Page 95 of Creeping Lily
I meet her gaze, already knowing where this is headed.We’ve danced around this fight before, never quite letting it catch fire.
My eyes drift down, taking in the shape of her in those tight jeans—the sweep of her hips, the line of her waist. Lily has that kind of beauty you don’t see anymore, the kind that belonged to old Hollywood actresses. Timeless. All curves and confidence, even when she’s trying to hide it. She pulls the cardigan closer, like it can shield her from my stare.
This is the same woman who let me kiss her. Who didn’t flinch when I breathed her in. Whose pupils widen when I look at her a certain way. She should hate me—after what she’s seen, she should want nothing to do with me. But she’s still here. Which means I need to tread lightly.
She holds my gaze without flinching. No fear. Just that same quiet challenge she’s been building since she first set foot on campus. She’s come a long way, but she’s not at the finish line yet.
“Want to go catch a movie?” I ask, smirking to make sure she knows I’m mocking the suggestion.
Her arms tighten around her body like she’s locking herself in. The look she gives me could cut glass.
“How long do we have to stay here?”
“As long as it takes, Lily.”
“As long as what takes?”
Her anger comes fast, sharp enough to make me raise a brow. Lily Snow is beautiful when she’s angry. But angry and bored? That’s when she’s dangerous—and she doesn’t even know it.
We’ve just goneanother round about me being a murderer.
Lily can’t let it go—what she saw, what I am.
I can see it written all over her face. She’s trying to figure me out, digging for some tragic backstory that explains why my head is so screwed up. Fine. Let her believe that if it helps her sleep at night. Better for her to think I’m broken than to accept the truth—that maybe I’m just a monster because I choose to be.
“I didn’t choose my path,” I tell her. “The path chose me.”
She doesn’t get it. She probably never will. She’s never felt that kind of hollow, all-consuming loss. Never had someone she loves ripped away and been forced to keep breathing while the world moves on.
“There are always choices, Titan,” she says.
“Not when the justice system fails,” I counter. “Not when closure is just a word they throw at the families of the dead. Not when the verdict is ‘not guilty’ and the guilty walk free. Not when the powerful are too connected to ever see a prison cell.”
“Without laws, corruption is everywhere,” she argues.
I scoff, sharp and bitter.
“Laws? You mean the same ones that let murderers slip through on technicalities? The same ones that hand convicted rapists their freedom just so they can go out and destroy more lives?”
She flinches at the heat in my voice, but I don’t stop.
“For every wrong we manage to right, there’s still the shadow of what can’t be undone. Yeah, it’s a win when we give families closure, but it’s never enough. They’ll never get their loved ones back. Closure isn’t a finish line, Lily—it’s a road you crawl down for the rest of your life. Trust me. I know.”
Her voice drops to a whisper. “What happened to you?”
I tilt my head, pretending I don’t understand. “What do you mean?”
“What happened to you? Why are you like this?”
“The monsters came.”
Her brow furrows. “Monsters?”
I want to tell her. I want her to see the truth—how the monsters crept in, slow and silent, until they owned me. How they poisoned my reality, rewrote my future, and dragged me off the path I was meant to walk. But she wouldn’t understand. Most people don’t.
So I keep it to myself, repeating the words in my head like a prayer:The monsters came.
Then I give her the version I want her to have.
