Page 43 of Lily In The Valley
She pulled back enough to look me in the eye. “I want to hold onto peace a little longer.”
Her words hit me in the damn throat. I knew how hard she fought for that stillness. Order. Stability. Knew how many yearsshe spent carrying her parents’ mess. Knew how rare it was for her to say out loud that she wanted something gentle.
“Okay,” I said, massaging her scalp. “We’ll stay put a little longer.”
On the driveto the airport, she leaned into me, threading her fingers through mine, resting her head on my shoulder as I drove the SUV through the canyons and brush-lined roads. She stayed curled under my shoulder as we waited for TSA to process our passes. I could feel her slipping into something foreign for her. Trust. Stillness.Me.
We didn’t talk much in the terminal. She read from her Kindle, taking small sips of water every now and then. The brightness of her eyes and soft giggles sent warmth spreading through my chest. I let her bask in it. Being carefree.
At the gate, we boarded early. She curled into the window seat, asked for a ginger ale, and a pack of mixed nuts, then promptly dozed off on my shoulder. I watched her sleep for most of the flight. Eyes fluttering. Lips parted. Like she’d finally put her armor down.
And I’d never felt more protective in my life.
We landed in Houston to the usual wave of humidity and the sound of someone’s baby wailing two rows up. Kelly stretched beside me and smiled, lazy and warm.
“Back to real life,” she said, not unkindly.
“We’ll bring the peace with us.”
She bumped her shoulder into mine. “Look at you being emotionally evolved.”
“Just how you got your degrees, I been studying, too,” I said, adjusting her carry-on over my shoulder. “Only difference is, mine is a doctorate in Kelly Reid.”
She didn’t respond, just reached for my hand. She kept my hand in hers as we reached the departure terminal. Before we exited the building, she stopped me.
“I’m going to run to the restroom really quick. It’s going to take us forever to get home from Hobby.”
As she walked away, I pulled out my phone, powering it on.
That’s when I saw them.
Eleven missed calls.
Six texts from Zay.
Three from Nessa.
My stomach dropped before I even tapped the screen. A kind of dread that sinks its teeth in before your brain catches up.
Zay
Call me ASAP. It’s important.
Khalil. Emergency, man.
It’s Charisse. Don’t say anything to Kelly.
Just call me ASAP.
Don’t say anything to Kelly.
Please.
Just bring her to the hospital.
My fingers moved before I could think. I hit Zay’s name. He picked up on the first ring, voice low and raw like he’d been fighting tears or a storm, or both.
“Yo,” I said, stepping a few paces away. “What’s going on?”
