Page 46 of Creeping Lily
“Collins,” he calls just as my hand touches the door. I turn. He pauses—almost like he’s thinking better of what he’s about to say. “I’m not in the business of hurting innocent people,” he says finally. “Not unless they cross me first.”
Vigilante justice.
The phrase loops in my head as I step into the night. The cathedral behind me houses men who answer to no law, no court. Men whose silence isn’t bought—it’s enforced.
Turn on Goliath, and you don’t live to regret it. Neither does your family.
I knew all that before I stepped into their circle. And I still stepped in.
Because now Lily Snow is in it too.
And I don’t know whether that makes her safer… or already damned.
The night outsideis colder than when I went in.
Or maybe that’s just me.
The cathedral doors shut behind me with a low, final groan, the sound of a cell locking from the outside. My boots scrape over cracked pavement as I make my way to the car, my hands shoved deep into my jacket pockets—not for warmth, but to stop them from curling into fists.
Goliath doesn’t put this kind of heat on a random college girl. That’s not how they operate. Protection this tight, this relentless, is expensive. Resources like this don’t just get assigned—they’replaced.
Someone, somewhere, pulled strings for Lily Snow.
And it wasn’t her family. I’d stake my life on that. Hell, maybe I already have.
The obvious question—why—pulses at the back of my skull, steady as a war drum. There’s no romance in the answer, I know that much. Goliath doesn’t protect people out of the goodness of their hearts. The only “heart” they have is a safe filled with debts and leverage.
Which means Lily’s safety is an investment.
And investments always come with an expected return.
Is she a pawn? A bargaining chip? Or is she the kind of secret that could burn the whole city if it ever got out?
I play back the scene from earlier—her in her dorm, pale and small, eyes darting like a cornered doe. I remember the way she gripped my hand when we stepped inside, like the contact was the only thing tethering her to this world.
She doesn’t know she’s being watched from every angle. She doesn’t know she’s living in the center of a chessboard where pieces get knocked over every day.
And maybe—maybe she doesn’t need to know.
The car looms ahead, black paint swallowing the lamplight. I slide into the driver’s seat, grip the wheel, and sit there for a moment, engine off, listening to the slow thud of my own heartbeat.
The thing about Goliath is this: they protect what they want to protect, until they don’t. And when they decide you’re no longer worth the trouble…
No walls. No locks. No prayers will save you.
I start the car.
For now, Lily’s under their wing. But if they ever decide to clip hers, I’ll burn the whole damn society to the ground before I let them touch her.
24
LILY
Inever thought it could get worse.
Then my phone starts buzzing—low and angry—across the coffee table. It rattles against the wood like it’s trying to crawl into my lap.
Mom.
