Page 26 of Take Me to Church
Cody slaps me on the shoulder, seeming like his normal, laid-back self even though I’ve just delivered him a dead man in a car that needs to be dismantled. “No worries. We’ll get it handled.”
I return his shoulder slap, reminding myself I would do the same thing if he showed up and needed my help. No questions asked. “Thanks.”
I turn to help Lydia from the car, but she’s already out, her purse clutched close as she scans the large storage space. “What is this place?”
“Just a warehouse. We offer temporary storage options to businesses.” Cody continues to act like this is just any other day.
He thumbs over one shoulder in the direction of his office. “You can go hang out in the air conditioning. Watch some TV.”
Lydia shifts on her feet, expression uncertain as she looks between me and my brother. “No thanks. I’ll stay here.”
Cody shrugs her rejection off. “No problem. If you change your mind, you know where it is.” He tips his head toward the back of the building. “I’ve got some inventory to check while we wait for extra hands. I’ll be back in a few.”
I watch his back as he strides away, the guilt in my gut digging deeper. Cody’s one of us that has the most to lose. A pretty wife he adores. A son and little girl who follow him around the renovated firehouse he calls home. My inability to come up with a better way of handling Rodney could ruin it all.
Lydia taps me on the shoulder, dragging my focus away from just how much I may have royally fucked up. She lifts her brows like she’s waiting for something.
“What’s wrong?” I automatically rest my clean palm on her back, intending to guide her away from the car. “Did you change your mind? You want to go stay in the office?” I sound hopeful and I am. I don’t want her here to see just what I’m capable of.
The things I can do.
Lydia shakes her head at me, mouth pressing into a frown. “I’m not going to change my mind.” She turns to the car, lips flattening even more. “This is my fault. The least I can do is—”
“This isn’t your fault.” I reach up with the hand clean enough to touch her, sliding my fingers through the softness of her hair as I tuck it behind one ear. “I should have known you wouldn’t just stop looking for help when I told you no.” I saw how upset she was. The panic. The fear. The desperation. “I should have known you wouldn’t stop until Myra was safe.”
Lydia almost seems to smile, her expression surprisingly soft. “How could you have known? The last time you saw me I was a little girl who was afraid of everything.”
I slide my fingers down the length of her hair, unable to stop myself from continuing to touch her. “I’ve gotta admit I never would have expected to be here like this.” I tip my head toward her. “With you.”
Lydia’s lower lip pinches between her teeth and I swear her cheeks barely pink up. “That doesn’t surprise me.” She glances down. “It’s probably hard to think of me as anything besides the little girl who followed you around all the time.”
Not as hard as it should be.
I give her hair a gentle tug, bringing her focus back to me. “You still seem to be following me around.”
Lydia’s jaw drops in mock outrage. “You’ve been literally following me everywhere for four days, so I’m pretty sure I’m not the one who’s the issue this time.”
I’m not surprised to discover Damien spilled all my secrets. He’s always been the most social and charming of my brothers, and having a family of his own and walking the straight and narrow has only made it worse. He’s completely comfortable with his life now that there’s nothing to hide and assumes none of us have any secrets we want to keep either.
But some of us do. Some of us are still lingering at the edges of our old world, keeping one foot in even as we pretend it’s behind us.
“I didn’t want you to get hurt.” I sigh, wishing so much of this could be different. “I knew Rodney would come after you and I wanted to make sure someone was there when he did.”
Lydia studies me for a minute and I can almost see the gears working in her head. “What if it wasn’t you that was there when he showed up?” Her eyes lock onto my face, watching me intently. “What if Damien was the one who was there?” Her eyes shift to the car before coming back to me. “Would we still be here?”
Part of me was clinging to the hope Lydia was as sweet and innocent and naïve as I initially expected, but it’s seeming more and more like Damien is at least a little right. Like maybe Lydia is more comfortable in this world than I thought. “Possibly.” I feel a little bad outing Damien like this, but he didn’t seem to feel too guilty doing it to me. “Except his clothes would cost more to replace than mine.”
Lydia’s eyes slowly drag down my front, fixing on the half dry circle of blood soaked into the fabric of my black T-shirt. “Oh my God.” Her hands go to the hem, yanking it free of my jeans to drag it up my chest. “Are you hurt?”
Her warm touch slides across my abs, skimming against my skin as she searches for the injury she believes created the stain.
I should tell her I’m fine. That the source of the blood is stuffed into the backseat of the car about to be shredded. But I can’t bring myself to stop her. “I don’t know.”
Lydia continues to search my middle, making unhappy sounds as she worries over me. Her concern is just as addicting as her touch, and I hold my breath, soaking up every second.
“I can’t tell what’s yours and what’s not.” She looks around the warehouse. “Where’s the bathroom?”
Again, I should tell her I’m fine. That the only injury I’m currently facing is to my conscience. Instead, I point toward the office. “Over there.”
