His head jerked up, and from the look on his face, I knew I’d pressed a soft spot. ‘No. I don’t get my mum to cook for me, and I don’t ask Lillian to drop meals off for me either. They do that on their own.’
I should have stopped there, but I didn’t. I had a strange sense of satisfaction from knowing that I’d riled him up. Still, I dropped my voice to a whisper. I wasn’t brave enough to be an outright smart ass.
‘They must feel you need the support.’
His words came out as icy as his glare. ‘No. Some people feel the need to force their help onto others whether or not they need it. I don’t need them to do anything for me, and I only accept what they offer because it makes them feel better. You, on the other hand, need Lillian’s help.’
He got me. I completely lost that one against him.
I held his gaze until my hurt and anger made my heart flutter to that crazy rhythm again. I looked down at my plate so he wouldn’t see me struggling to steady my breathing.
The screech of his chair as he pushed it away from the table broke the silence. I refused to look up, but in my peripheral vision, I saw that he’d stood. Hobbling around, he put his plate into the sink, then headed toward his bedroom.
‘I’m going to bed,’ he said.
I kept my head down, afraid he’d see how much he’d hurt me, and begged he’d walk away before he saw my glazed eyes. But he just stood there.
‘I’m taking you to the library first thing in the morning,’ he said finally.
Maybe I’d imagined it, but that time, his voice didn’t ring with the same asshole melody it usually did.
I heard him walk away and let the first tear drop. When I heard his bedroom door click shut, I made my decision.
I was going to get as far away from Billy as quickly as I could. I would be gone well before the six weeks was up.
Even if it killed me.
5
Him
Lillian had come over on her way to work, bringing with her multiple containers of leftovers. She’d said it was because Lucy was staying over, but she obviously didn’t know how little Lucy ate. Like always, she’d brought enough food for eight grown men.
It was just after eight thirty a.m., and Lucy was still in her bedroom. Lillian hesitated outside her door, debating whether or not to knock and check in on her. Deciding not to, she walked into the kitchen to interrogate me instead.
‘Did it go well last night?’ she asked.
‘Yep.’
‘Did she eat?’
‘Yep.’
‘Were you nice to her?’
I stared into my coffee mug and tactfully avoided answering by taking a long, slow sip. Lillian arched a disapproving eyebrow at me and folded her arms across her chest.
‘Billy!’ she squeaked through a strained whisper. ‘I asked you not to get how you get with her.’
I swallowed what I really wanted to say and inhaled a composing breath instead. ‘You lumped two people who don’t wanna be lumped together—together. Considering that, it went well.’
She pouted her lips, and I expected her to have a go at me. To my surprise, she smiled. She wrapped her arms around my back, so I got a whiff of her overpowering perfume as she squeezed me into the kind of hug Mum usually gave.
But then her body shifted, and her weight fell heavier against me. I felt the gentle hiccupping of her chest and knew she was crying. My heart broke. I pulled her in tighter, and she squeezed me like she’d crumble if my arms weren’t carrying her. She didn’t need to say it; her guilt was smothering her at that moment, and she was searching for something to soothe the pain.
Jade was always there—in the background. She was behind everything Lillian had done over the last twelve months, why she worked so hard, investing everything she had into her job, into the people she cared for. It was why her husband had bailed.
If I saw that asshole now, I’d knock the fucker to the ground.
She pulled away and looked up at me with tear-drenched, red eyes. ‘Are you planning on taking her out today?’
I cleared my throat so she wouldn’t hear how much it hurt for me to see her like that. ‘Yep. To the library.’
She gave me a small, appreciative nod. ‘I’ll pop back tonight and see if I can catch her then. Will you tell her I came by to check in on her?’
‘Sure.’
She started to walk away, but I caught her arm. ‘Are you okay? Do you need anything?’
She sighed. ‘The nights are a little lonely. I have Mum, but it’s not the same. I’ll be okay.’
‘Do you wanna go out sometime? Take your mind off shit.’
She offered a grateful smile. ‘I’ll be all right. Although I might come around one night for a game of chess.’
I scoffed playfully. ‘No chance. You always kick my ass at chess … buuuut, if it makes you happy, sure. Anytime.’
She laughed and walked to the front door. With a faint smile, she whispered, ‘Thank you,’ before clicking it shut behind her.
An hour passed, and Lucy still hadn’t come out of her bedroom. I sat on the sofa, tapping my finger impatiently and watching crappy morning TV. By ten o’clock, I started to wonder if she’d fled through the night. Now that I thought about it, not a single noise had come from her room all morning. Not the sound of water running from her ensuite, nor the toilet flushing. Not the sound of footsteps against the floorboards. Nothing.
Shit. Lucy had left. I was certain of it. And if she’d left because of that comment I threw at her last night, Lillian would never speak to me again.
It had been an asshole moment—I knew that. I wasn’t proud of it, especially when she’d dropped her head down to look at her plate, and her lips had started quivering.
Panic thickened in my gut, and I reached for my crutch. Shuffling to Lucy’s bedroom door, I stood still and listened.
Nothing.
I pressed my ear against the door and held my breath.
Silence.
I tapped on it, then waited.
More silence.
I knocked again, and when there was nothing, I knocked a third time.
Fuck!
I swung the door open and nearly had a goddamned heart attack.
Lucy sat on the edge of the bed, her hands resting loosely in her lap, and her gaze fixed on the ground. She wore shoes and the same clothes from yesterday; those hideous purple sweatpants and the pink t-shirt that made me think of my grandma. The bed linen didn’t have a single crease in it.
I inhaled a breath, and my heart settled. But something about how still she was made me uneasy. This girl could’ve been a ghost.
‘Why didn’t you answer when I knocked?’ My gruff voice pierced the silence, echoing in the space between us.
In a slow and heavy motion, she turned to look at me. Thick red lines puffed below her tired eyes, and her broken expression left a feeling I didn’t understand churning in my stomach.
‘Did you even sleep?’ I asked.
Lucy gave me nothing, not a head nod or any other acknowledgment that I’d spoken. Her stillness sent shivers up my back, and I squeezed my hand harder around my crutch.
‘Come on,’ I said. ‘We’re going to the library.’
Without a word, she stood and walked past me to the front door.
‘Do you want something to eat first?’ I asked.
The combination of dark circles under her eyes and her exhausted slouch made my skin tingle with an unscratchable itch. Without replying, she walked out of the front door and waited beside my car.
Her silence followed for the entire drive to the library. She did everything I asked of her—get in the car, get out of the car, follow me—all without saying a word. When we were standing side by side in the library, Lucy turned to face me. Even though she didn’t say it with words, her expression said it all—what in the world are we doing here?
Reading her thoughts, I shrugged. ‘I don’t know what we’re doing here either. But Lillian wanted me to take you p
laces. So go—look at books or some shit.’
The quiet inside the library amplified Lucy’s silence and the uneasiness I’d felt all morning. I had no doubt her behavior was a result of what I’d said to her last night. I knew my comment had hit a sore spot, but I never thought it would hurt her like this.
Lucy walked off. I headed in the opposite direction but watched her from across the aisle. She stopped at a coffee table that had magazines and newspapers scattered all over it. Her body stiffened. Reaching forward, she picked up the newspaper sitting on top. Her shoulders sank inwards, and her head dropped, leaving her hair to dangle across her cheeks. Her shoulders hitched with every one of her irregular breaths—in and out, up and down, fast, faster, then slow. She clutched onto the newspaper, and her knuckles turned porcelain white. I hopped closer to her, grateful that the carpet muted the sound of my crutch as I approached.
Over Lucy’s shoulder, I saw her face plastered all over the front page of the newspaper she was reading. From the lack of blond regrowth in the photo, I gathered it must have been taken shortly after the accident.
I caught the headline: “Amnesia woman hit by car still has no family come forward.”
My muscles seized.
I edged as close as possible and read what I could over her shoulder.
A young woman believed to be between eighteen and twenty-four remains nameless after nearly four weeks. No one has yet come forward to identify the woman who suffered a head injury and memory loss after being struck by a drugged driver near Railway Square. Police are investigating …
Her breathing grew labored, erratic. When her shoulders began to hitch in sweeping waves, I stepped in.
‘Let’s go home. I’m getting hungry.’ The last thing I felt like was food, but it was the best excuse I had to get her out of there.
She didn’t flinch, just continued to stare wide-eyed at the article as if she hadn’t heard me. Her fingers curled around the paper as if they were glued in position.
I reached over and pried the newspaper from her hands.
Her head flicked up, and she looked at me with heart-wrenching sadness in her eyes. ‘I don’t have a home.’
A lump like charcoal formed at the back of my throat, and I swallowed. ‘Come on,’ I said, ‘you must be starving by now.’
The heaviness of her silence weighed the drive home with a tension I couldn’t cut. She stared out the windscreen, her shoulders crumpled in toward her chest, her eyes blank. I chucked the radio on loud, but her silence seemed louder.
I pulled into my driveway and shuffled out of the car, expecting her to follow. But she didn’t. Hopping up the four front steps, I left the entrance door open and waited for her in the living room, but she never came inside.
With a grumble, I made my way back to my car and swung Lucy’s door open. ‘What are you doing? You can’t sit in the car all damn day.’
Her gaze was still focused out of the windscreen, but I knew she wasn’t looking at anything. One tear dropped, sliding down her pale cheek, over her chin, and soaked into her pink t-shirt. She spoke so quietly I nearly missed what she said.
‘Out of millions of people, I don’t matter to even one of them. Not one person is missing me from their life. Not one.’
I clenched my jaw shut and rubbed my forehead. The heartbroken look on her face twisted my stomach into a tight knot.
I exhaled a fiery breath, slammed her car door shut then made my way to the driver’s side. ‘We’re getting outta here. I’m taking you clothes shopping.’
She swung around to face me, her cheeks soft and her eyes wet. ‘I don’t have any money.’
I turned the ignition. ‘No shit.’
Confusion settled across her face as I threw my arm over the back of her seat, looking out the rear windscreen to reverse out of the driveway.
‘I don’t know when I’ll be able to pay you back.’
‘You don’t need to pay me back. I don’t expect you to.’
I backed the car into the road and spun the steering wheel to straighten it, where I stopped a moment to look at her.
A mixture of gratitude and uncertainty flickered in her eyes. ‘Why are you doing this for me?’
There was no way I could tell her the truth—that I felt sorry for her. So I lied.
‘Because it’s probably as hard for me to look at you in those clothes as it is for you to wear them.’
Her lips rose into a small, broken smile, and something tickled my stomach. Whatever it was, I ignored it, speeding down the street and changing the conversation instead.
‘Lillian came by to see you this morning.’
‘I know. I heard her.’
I threw Lucy a sideward glance. I wanted to ask why she didn’t come out of her room, why the bed appeared unslept in, and why she was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. But I didn’t.
‘Lillian is so beautiful,’ Lucy added after a pause.
‘Yeah, she cares a lot about others.’
She shook her head. ‘That as well. But I meant physically. She has such beautiful hair, her smile is so warm, and she has the most amazing curves in all the right places.’
‘Please don’t talk about my sister’s curves in front of me.’
Ignoring me, she continued. ‘Her skin is perfect. Not to mention her big, round eyes, and those boobs—they’re a serious asset.’
I cringed, then gagged. ‘Okay, you really need to stop talking about Lillian like that. Now.’
I turned the car toward the shopping strip not far from home, and something crossed my mind. I flung Lucy a quick glance. ‘Are you a lesbian?’
‘No. I can just appreciate a beautiful person when I see one.’
I narrowed my eyes, my attention still on the road. ‘How do you know you’re not, considering your, ah, amnesia?’
She didn’t miss a beat. ‘Are you gay?’
‘No.’
‘Well, how do you know you’re not?’
Flicking on my indicator, I slipped into the first parking bay I found and switched off the ignition. ‘I’ve just always known. But I don’t have amnesia.’
She shrugged. ‘Knowing something like that has nothing to do with what I remember. There are some things I just know. I can’t explain it, but there are some things I feel—like the knowledge is there—inside me. And knowing I’m into guys is one of them.’
Lucy’s gaze shifted over my shoulder and out the back window, and for the first time since I’d met her, a spark brightened her tone.
‘That shop looks like they’d sell jeans. I’d kill to get out of these purple sweatpants and into black denim.’
6
Her
Billy sat on a chair near the change room inside the tiny boutique store, looking awkward.
My life had been a unique version of hell over the last few days, and yet this place felt like a small slice of heaven. I could have thrown my arms around him with gratitude, but that would’ve meant touching him.
My happy bubble burst when I saw the price tags.
I sank into a deflated heap as I stood at the center of the clothing racks. Billy’s eyebrows furrowed, and he studied me from across the store, probably wondering why I’d suddenly stopped looking for something to buy.
‘Can I help you?’
The sales assistant, a youngish girl around my age with thick black liner under her eyes, offered me a fake smile.
I didn’t bother forcing a smile back. I was too busy thinking of a tactful way for Billy and me to get out of there without having to buy anything.
‘I just need a minute,’ I replied.
One minute turned into five, and I still hadn’t moved. Eventually, Billy shuffled up onto his crutch and hobbled toward me. ‘Can you just pick a few things so we can get outta here?’
‘I don’t want new clothes. I’m happy with the ones Lillian got for me.’
It physically hurt to say that.
He squinted at me with exaggerated impatience. ‘You’ll
be doing me a favor by updating your wardrobe. Now, please—just get a few things.’
His tone was like a hacksaw, but there was something different about his expression. I narrowed my gaze and studied him, noticing a subtle glimmer of sincerity in his eyes.
He was so damn confusing.
I glared at the ground, unable to look him in the face. ‘Thanks,’ I whispered.
The sales assistant got me. Without having to ask, she pulled out several pairs of jeans that fit me perfectly, clinging to me like denim should.
Slipping several dark-colored t-shirts from the racks, she held them against my body. ‘These are size small. But you’re really petite and pretty flat across the chest, so you’ll need extra small. I’ll see if I have any out the back.’
I wanted to tell her I was an adequate handful—that I’d tested it only yesterday—but Billy’s cheeks flushed red at her comment and distracted me.
Half an hour, three pairs of jeans and six tops later, the sales assistant stood at the register and announced the total cost. I wanted to sink through the ground. I couldn’t allow Billy to spend that kind of money on me, especially as I was needy enough.
I opened my mouth, ready to tell him I didn’t need any of it, but he threw his palm up in my face, tossed his credit card at the sales assistant, then hopped outside without a word.
I’d pay him back. I didn’t care what I had to do—I’d repay the entire four hundred dollars he’d spent on me.
Outside the shop, I could’ve been in another country. It wasn’t only the hustle and bustle of a vibrant suburb, but the smells, sounds, and … diversity. I stood on the pavement in my new black jeans and tee, staring around, wondering why everything felt so different.
‘A friend of mine owns a café a block from here,’ Billy said, gesturing down the road. ‘We’ll get something to eat there.’
I stared at the brace on his leg, the crutch under his arm, and at the uneven concrete path. ‘Wouldn’t you prefer to drive?’ I asked.
His expression turned to stone, and again, I knew I’d said the wrong thing.
Call me Lucy: An Enemies to Lovers romance Page 4