“Are you going to tell Kip?” Justin asks.
“That there might have been someone working for Jimmy before?”
He nods.
“No. I don’t want to worry him. He stresses too much as it is.”
We come to a stop sign and Justin pulls me into a kiss, holding my face between his hands. “You have such a good heart.”
My heart skips. It’s tender in a way that I surprisingly need. To be told I’m good inside. That through it all, I’m an okay person. I give him a tight-lipped smile in return. It's scary that I suddenly feel lost. It's not normal that a compliment makes me doubt myself.
“You do.” Justin’s words pull me back to the feel of his hands on my cheeks and his breath on my lips. “You may not see it,” he says, touching the small space above my heart. “But I do.”
I’ve never ever questioned myself before, but confronted by the reality someone thinks highly of me, I'm very sure I'm not sure at all. I've never made excuses or blamed people who are better off. I've just been reacting to my environment. Right? But maybe I’ve been wrong. It’s the thought that I have never bothered to study myself in the first place, to look inside and figure out who I am.
Maybe I don't have a good heart.
TODAY IS ALMOST LIKE THE FIRST day back from fantasy land. Other than going home to check in with Kip and picking up our packages from Taylor, we’ve spent every waking second of the weekend together. And when I say together, I mean together.
I spent the majority of class daydreaming, a permanent blush permeating my cheeks. I’d be more put out by it if I weren’t in a constant stage of bliss. It should scare me that he’s so good with my body, a woman’s body, but then again I could care less how he gained such skills as long as he continues to use them on me.
Justin beams when I meet him in the courtyard, and I’m positive my expression matches.
“I was thinking we could skip class today and go somewhere,” he says. “Got anything you need to stay for?”
“Where are we going?”
“The shipyard. I want to get a better look at the cars.”
“Isn’t that kind of risky? How are we going to get in without being noticed?”
“The entire place is crawling with people. No one is going to second-guess what we’re doing.”
“What about Jimmy? I’m sure he doesn’t want us snooping around.”
“Exactly.”
I understand Justin’s skepticism. Everything inside of me is saying something isn’t right about this entire deal, and for that exact reason, I don’t want to dig any deeper. If we dig and find something, then all the money could disappear right before my eyes. How long do I want to stay ignorant?
Apparently not long enough to leave Justin to do this alone.
The shipyard is teeming with people. Half the workers are wearing yellow hard hats. I’m not sure what determines who wears one or not, but it kind of makes me question my safety as large cranes pass containers high above our heads. Justin’s right when he said no one will give us a second glance as we beeline it to our destination.
Justin hands me a duffel bag filled with tools he thought we might need as he spins the combination into the lock. He pulls it and it doesn't give. He tries again only to get the same result.
“The combination isn’t working. This is a different lock. They changed it sometime since we left.”
He bends down to get a closer look at the lock and starts to slowly spin the dial, eyes closed as he concentrates. He spins it one way until he feels what he's searching for and then starts in the opposite direction. It takes a few fails before he gets it right and the lock pops open.
“Where did you learn to do that?” I ask, equally impressed and skeptical.
“My mom kept a lock on the medicine cabinet,” he says, pulling open the door. “Dad never showed a particular interest in pharmaceuticals, but she didn't want to risk it if he ran out of liquor before she got home.” He walks over to the Italia and reaches under the tire wheel. “They took the key.”
He pulls the duffel from my shoulder and digs through it. “I brought an air wedge, but I don't know if the alarm will sound...”
Just out of curiosity, I pull the door handle and it clicks open.
He raises an eyebrow. “Or that works, too.”
I slide in the passenger seat. “So, what are we looking for?” I routinely check under and behind the seats, coming up empty.
Justin kneels outside the door next to my feet and begins unscrewing the door panel starting with the lock mechanism. It pops off, and he slowly, carefully pulls back the plastic and leather panel. He squeezes his hand inside the metal interior of the door.
“I feel something, but I can’t reach it.”
He pulls his hand out and I reach mine in. “A bag? Feels like canvas or something.”
“Can you get it?”
I tug, and the pack falls farther into my hand. I wrap my fingers around it the best I can and yank. I get enough of the fabric pooled through the hole that I can see a zipper.
“It’s a gun.”
Justin looks up at me. “Can you get it?”
As carefully as I can, I pull the gun out of the bag. Cautiously, I open the chamber and check for ammo. I drop the clip and hand the gun to him.
It takes me a moment to realize he’s looking at me. The gun is stilled in his hands and he’s smirking. It’s like he finds me cute. “What?” I ask self-consciously.
He shakes his head, returning his attention to the gun. “Looks like it’s police issued. The serial number has been scratched off.”
The black metal catches the light as he turns it over. It’s the same type of gun that was used to kill my dad. The last thing he saw was the black barrel in the hands of someone who was supposed to protect him.
“Lilly.” My name reverberates inside my head. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I force a smile. “I just really hate guns.” I stick my hand back in the bag and feel another object. “I think there’s more. The bag takes up the entire door.”
“Can you get another one?” After a few minutes of maneuvering, I manage to free another gun exactly like the first. Justin repeats his examination of the gun and hands them both back to me. “Put these back. I’m going to see if I can find anything in the trunk.”
“What if the alarm is on?”
He reaches under the steering column. “I’m hoping that if I use the emergency lever it won’t sound.”
“Well, that sounds super smart. Let’s pull the alarm and just hope it doesn’t go off. Stolen guns aren’t stored inside of it or anything.”
Her ignores me but winces as he pulls.
Nothing happens. The sound of the trunk releases, and we let out a collective breath.
Justin walks around to the front of the car. “Holy fucking shit.” The words out of his mouth and the alarm behind them send ice through my veins.
Please don't be a body, please don't be a body, I repeat as I look over the hood. Justin has both of his hands laced on top of his head, staring at whatever is in the cargo space. His eyes meet mine and I know whatever it is, it's bad.
It’s staggering. Plastic-wrapped blocks of cocaine are stacked in every inch of the space.
“They’re transporting cocaine,” he says.
“How can Taylor have let us do this?” I say, unbelieving.
“You think Taylor knew?”
Taylor’s insistence to take Jimmy’s offer, the repeated reference to the money, all the times he brushed off significant details.
“He had to,” I answer.
Justin inhales a large breath. “We’re middle men. Someone working with Jimmy drops a car somewhere and we transport it here. We’re not actually stealing anything.” He paces with his hands on his hips before stopping next to the Corvette.
“What do you think happened to whoever put that car here?”
He tugs on the door handle, but it’s locked. “I do
n’t know, but we should probably keep this between us.”
“No way. Dan and Ethan are making a run this weekend. I can’t not tell them.”
“And how do you think Taylor’s going to take that? Hm? I don’t think whoever he’s doing business with is going to suddenly take no for an answer.”
An ache forms between my brows, and I press the heels of my hands to my forehead to suppress the headache building. “I can’t let them go in blind. Dan’s got a family. I’m sure a judge would totally overlook arms and drug trafficking.”
“Hey, hey, hey.” Justin places his hands on my shoulders to stop my panicking. “Breathe. Let’s get our stuff together before we jump the gun. Do you have any inclination if Kip knows?”
I scour my brain. The only thing that sends a red flag is his insistent need for me to carry a gun. “I’m not sure. He couldn’t. There’s not a chance in hell he’d let me be a part of this if he knew. Or anyone for that matter.”
“Not even for the money?” His face gives away his doubt.
“There’s no way.”
Justin releases his hold on me and stalks away before coming back. “Taylor was pushing the idea of you going first.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know. I think we should talk with Kip before we decide anything.”
“Okay, yeah,” I say, nodding. “That sounds good.”
“Trust me, okay? We’ll figure this out.”
WHEN I WALK INTO THE KITCHEN, Kip takes one look at me and knows something is very, very wrong. When Justin follows in right behind me with an equally serious expression, it only makes it worse. Kip automatically takes a seat. He already knows he needs to be sitting for whatever we are about to tell him.
“Did you know?” I wasn’t planning on my words coming out as harsh as they do, but my mouth has plans of its own.
“Lilly.” Justin says my name in a warning tone.
“Did I know what?” Kip releases the bandana tied around his neck.
Justin looks to me, asking if I’d rather him speak first.
I nod.
Justin pulls out a chair for the both of us. Once we’re settled and he feels like I’ve calmed down, Justin speaks. “We have strong reason to believe that the cars we’re transporting for Jimmy are a cover-up.”
This gets Kip’s attention, prompting him to sit a little straighter. “What do you mean?”
“We’re transporting weapons and drugs.” Justin pauses, taking in Kip’s reaction, trying to gauge whether or not Kip had any inkling of the sort. The level of shock and anger that resonates in Kip tells us it’s safe to assume no, he had no clue. “Specifically,” Justin continues, “cocaine.”
Kip’s eyes explore mine, looking for confirmation. “How do you know this?”
“We went back to the shipyard and took apart the Italia. We found police-issued guns packed in fleece bags in both doors and the cocaine in the trunk.”
Kip sits back in his chair, looking from me to Justin before standing. He paces much like Justin and I both did when we discovered the drugs. It seems to be a common reaction.
“Taylor knew,” Kip states after a moment.
“That’s what Lilly assumed. We wanted to talk to you before we did anything.”
“Nothing,” Kip says, sitting back down.
“But Dan and Ethan—”
“I know. I’ll figure something out before then. For now, stay away from the shop and Taylor. Don’t tell anyone.”
“There’s something else you should know,” Justin says. “Jimmy had someone working for him before. There was already a car in storage when we dropped off the Italia. We couldn’t get in it, but I think it’s safe to assume we’d find the same.”
There’s a long pause before Kip replies. “And it’s safe to say whoever was working for him before isn’t working for Jimmy anymore.”
“Not likely.”
“Okay.” Kip looks to me. “Pack up some stuff and stay at Kaley’s until I say otherwise.”
I’m already rolling my eyes, ready to argue, when Justin says, “She can stay with me.”
Justin’s words stop not only me, but Kip, who gives Justin a look of disbelief.
“Kaley lives uptown, and I’m right across from the school. I can keep an eye. It’d make me feel better about the situation.”
“Make you feel better?” Kip says, his voice tight with indignation. “This isn’t about you. This is about keeping my sister safe, and the last person who should be protecting her is the punk who goes for joyrides in stolen cars.”
Justin’s temper flares. “With all due respect, I’m not the one who got her involved in this fucking shit in the first place.”
I leap from my seat to stop Kip’s advancement on Justin, placing a hand on his chest. “Stop.” He ignores me and tries to navigate around my small frame. “I said stop.” My voice makes him pause, but he doesn’t pull his attention away from Justin.
Justin runs his thumb over his lip, giving away his nervousness. “I’m sorry. I’m out of line. I know you’ve done everything you can to supply for Lilly, and that’s admirable. My biggest concern is that Lilly is safe. I’d never want to lie or deceive you in any way, and I don’t think it needs to be said that she stayed with me the past weekend.” Justin rushes on, not wanting to dwell on his last sentence. “Regardless, it’s not my decision; it’s Lilly’s.”
It’s not a statement to Kip, but a question for me. Would I rather stay with him? We’ve literally been together for three days, barely a minute more, and he’s asking me if I want to move in with him. It would be temporary, but it doesn’t lessen the amount of pressure it puts on me…on us. He’s looking at me as if he’s torn between understanding my hesitancy and his desire for me to say yes. Impossible. I shake my head as I look away. He can’t care for me that deeply. Three days, I repeat to myself.
“What do you want, Lil?”
Justin’s voice is unsure, possibly with a hint of fear, either of what my answer will be or the level of vulnerability he just allowed me to see. The question in itself represents something much larger than him asking me where I'm planning on staying.
“I’ll stay with Justin,” I say to Kip, watching the tension fade from Justin’s features. “But only until we know everything is okay.”
Kip gives me a quick smile, his blessing of sorts. “Okay. I’ll let you know when I do.”
He gives Justin a nod of acknowledgment that Justin returns, and leaves the room. Silence descends on us and I busy myself, pushing in the chairs to the table, avoiding eye contact at all costs.
“Lilly,” he says.
I hum an acknowledgment. I’m stalling and he knows it. He stops my fiddling with a hand around my waist. His chest presses against my back as he places his lips on the curve of my neck.
“It’s okay, you’re scared,” he says against my skin.
“Everything will be fine. Kip’s always taken care of everything.”
“Not that,” he says, spinning me toward him.
I know he’s referencing his feelings.
Or maybe it’s my feelings.
Whatever. It’s all the fucking feelings in this damn kitchen.
I let my forehead fall on his chest so I don’t have to look at him. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I focus on his breathing and the steadiness of his heart underneath my touch. He’s so calm, like talking about this doesn’t affect him.
“You don’t have to say anything.”
I huff in amusement. “Of course I don’t. You’re going to say whatever the hell you want to anyway.”
His chuckle vibrates through my cheek, and I find the courage to look up through his laughter. “Lilly, I…” He stops for a moment, and I can hear him swallow before he continues. “I’ve asked you to trust me multiple times.”
“You have.”
“I need you to trust me when I say my feelings for you are genuine. I know the only person you’ve ever really trusted
with all your heart is Kip—”
“That’s not true. What about Kaley? Or, hell, Taylor? If I hadn’t trusted him, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“But only to an extent. You’ve never told Kaley about what you do, and you’ve always been skeptical of Taylor’s choices.” He tugs on a lock of my hair. “You barely trust yourself. You’ve always trusted Kip to decide for you, and I understand it. I do.”
He just pointed out a major character flaw in me that I’ve never even noticed before. It’s a small revelation, but it’s also not. I don’t trust anyone. Not really. It wasn’t an active choice or a conscious decision; it was a survival mechanism. I keep people at arm’s length because the truth of the matter is, I don’t know how to make decisions for myself. I haven’t had to.
Since as long as I can remember, Kip has prepped me for everything in life. He taught me how to read, ride a bike, and get my first job. He’s the one who enrolled me in college. He asked me what I thought I’d be interested in, and the next day I had a packet full of college applications sitting on my bed, ready for me to pick from. I filled them out, handed them back to him, and he sent them off. When acceptance letters started rolling in, he picked the best university that offered me a scholarship and was close by.
It’s not like I’m incompetent. I’ve always fared well in school and worked hard to make good grades. I’m the only girl my age who knows how to change her own oil and rotate her tires. But I’ve never had to make any major life decisions outside of what Kip has done for me. And I trusted him enough to do that. That’s more than I can say for myself.
“That’s why when you told me you would put your life in my hands, it made it that much harder to stay away from you. I don’t deserve you, Lilly. I know that.” I attempt to cut him off, but he silences me. “Just trust me when I say that I don’t. But also trust me when I say that I will give anything to make sure you’re happy.”
Kip’s footsteps bellow through the house. No doubt a warning on his behalf to let us know he’s approaching.
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