Page 26 of Hell to Pay

I held Lilah’s hand in the car, feeling sappy and domestic, wondering what the actual fuck was happening to me that just holding a woman’s hand could make me feel lovesick.

Maybe it was because we’d almost lost her. Maybe it was because we were settling into a dynamic that — finally — wasn’t hostile. Whatever the reason, I wanted it to continue for as long as possible.

I pulled up to the curb outside of Cassie’s and opened the door for Lilah, but when I reached for her hand, she shoved it in her pocket.

“Everything okay?” I asked, stopping near the door, out of the flow of pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk.

She nodded. “I just… There’ll be people in there I know. People who knew me in… in high school.”

And then I understood. Lilah couldn’t be seen holding my hand. Not here. Not when some of the people inside Cassie’s might have been on the receiving end of the pictures we’d texted to everybody in high school.

It was bad enough to be walking around town with one of the guys who’d leaked her nudes. How would it look if we were holding hands? I knew how the world worked. No one would be talking about what fucking assholes we were for doing what we did — they’d all be talking about Lilah, about how she must not have any self-respect.

My heart sank and my stomach twisted. This was what Lilah had been dealing with for the past five years. Not just her private shame but the shame of knowing that anywhere she went in Blackwell Falls, there might be someone who’d seen her naked.

No wonder she’d worked one town over. No wonder she’d barely left her apartment.

“Fuck.” I rubbed the corner of my mouth with my thumb and had to force myself not to pull her into my arms. “Fuck.”

She looked up at me. “I’m sorry. I just… I just can’t. Not here.”

She was everything.

Everything.

And we’d destroyed her.

No, that wasn’t right. Nothing could destroy her. She was too strong for that. But we’d come close. We’d made her fight for her life, and I would never, ever, fucking forgive myself for being the dumbass punk I’d been in high school.

My chest tightened with emotion. “You don’t have a fucking thing to apologize for. Not a fucking thing.I’msorry. So…” I drew in a breath, felt my eyes sting. “I’ll never be able to tell you how fucking sorry I am, Lilah.”

She nodded. “I know. And I know it might not seem like it, but that… well, that helps.”

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

“Would a shit ton of pastries help even more?” I was trying to lighten the mood, because I wasn’t entirely sure I wasn’t going to start bawling like a fucking baby.

Her smile was sweet and a little sad. A fucking gut punch.

“They can’t hurt.”

I reached for the door and opened it for her. “Coming up.”

Cassie’s was packed with students on their way to classes at Aventine and locals on their way to work. We took our place at the back of the line and a moment later the alarm on my phone went off.

I did a quick calculation. We’d be home in less than an hour. Plenty of time to take my first dose of insulin for the day.

20

LILAH

I stood uneasilynext to Nolan and looked around, a tight knot of anxiety in my stomach. I relaxed a little when I didn’t recognize anyone but Cassie Montgomery, owner of the coffee shop. We’d barely spoken in high school — she’d been tight with Daisy — but she'd never been mean either.

Now she was sitting at a table in the back of the coffee shop, talking to a man with dark hair and tattoos who looked big enough to squash me with his pinky.

“Weird to see Bram out and about in the sunlight,” Nolan said next to me.

I stared. “That’s Bram Montgomery?”

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