Chapter One
The apartment was stifling hot, one of the many downsides of living in a crappy neighborhood that had been earmarked for gentrification, since the time gentrification was first invented. Lily’s tank top was already soaked through with perspiration, and the few strands of rich chocolate-brown hair that escaped her ponytail were stuck to her face as if with glue. Gluey, sticky sweat. For once she was glad that the denim cutoffs she wore were threadbare and full of holes. Even the minuscule amount of ventilation that provided helped.
Each of the three fans they owned was set to full blast, but all the whirring blades did was simply push the heavy, hot summer air around. Even Mr. Calabash, Lily’s beloved stuffed animal, looked as if he was sweltering in his plush skin. The tattered bison had been repaired so many times over the years that it resembled a Franken-animal, but Lily couldn’t part with it. It was the only thing she remembered her father giving to her.
The air conditioner was only on when Rey was home, to save on electricity. With only Rey’s paycheck as a security guard coming in for the next two months until the new school term began, they had to stretch every dollar.
The bruises that Rey had left on her arm were finally fading. That had been his response to finding out that she’d paid for coffee when she hung out with her one remaining friend, Lucie. It didn’t matter that this was the one time Lucie let her pay, after all the times Lucie picked up the tab. It only mattered that Lily and Rey shared the same checking and credit card accounts. Which meant that the only expenses were the ones that Rey approved of. The residual ache in her arm from where she tried to block Rey’s fist was the latest reminder.
She looked at her phone, thinking of Lucie, and sighed. It was only four-thirty. Her best friend would be at work for another hour at least. Lily wasn’t friends enough with her co-workers to call just to shoot the breeze, not that she could with her limited phone plan minutes anyway. She stuck the phone into her back pocket, a useless weight for the time being.
For the thousandth time, Lily missed working with the kids in the kindergarten where she taught. Or having any work at all to occupy her time. The summer camp in the rec center nearby wasn’t able to hire her due to budget cuts, and Rey wouldn’t let her apply for a job at a sleep away camp, because then he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on her. Or would miss her. He used the phrases interchangeably. It meant the same thing: she was trapped.
Lily had loved that feeling of protectiveness once, until it became a form of captivity. With nothing but time on her hands today, she wondered when her world had gotten so small, so isolated from anything that Rey didn’t approve of.
Maybe it was when her mother died of cancer, after months of the illness taking over both their lives. Rey was her rock during that time. He took care of everything, made all the decisions about details that she was too numb to. He held her hand as she honored her mother’s request toDo Not Resuscitate, and stayed with her until that terrible long, flat beep of the last machine was finally turned off.
Maybe it was when he stood by her side at the funeral, as relatives she didn’t know gave her their vague condolences, and friends came by to pay their respects. Friends she had lost touch with, while her life revolved around the ending of her mother’s. An orderly parade of people exiting her life.
Just like her dad.
Maybe it was when she numbly agreed to have Rey pack up her meager belongings and move in with him, to his apartment kitted out with exactly what you would imagine someone with anOther Than Honorablemilitary discharge to have for decorations.
That was slightly more than two years ago.
Lily was so grateful to have his strength to cling to at first, as she found new purpose in living, teaching preschoolers their first attempts at reading and writing, especially if English was their second language. In the neighborhood the school was in, she was often the only person who gave them consistent encouragement and loads of caring attention. In providing them with hope for a brighter future, the kids saved her life.
Lily would do anything to help kids.
The beatings started later. The first times he was drunk, and apologized profusely afterwards. He was under stress from his various jobs, the security one hanging by a thread, his boss always on his case. She could understand that. He would weep while folding her bruised body into his muscled arms. Didn’t she know she was his everything? He would die without her. And she would end up believing somehow that if she did a little better, tried a little harder, loved him a little bit more, that it wouldn’t happen again.
She kept trying, as her world slowly closed in around her.
In the few days since the school term ended, she’d cleaned the apartment from top to bottom, twice already. The stovetop was gleaming, the bathroom disinfected to such a point that surgery could be performed there. The sink was filled with soaking pots and pans that she would restore to their shiny, fresh-out-of-the-box condition, even though she had bought them second-hand years ago.
She had even made sure all the batteries and the first aid supplies in both their go-bags were up to date. Rey had insisted on their being prepared for emergency evacuation, and laughed at having a katana as a wall decoration. Just like inThe Walking Dead, he would be prepared for a zombie Apocalypse. If nothing else, it made a safe place to keep her photos of her mother, a fading photo of her father and her 5 year old self, and her cherished letter from the great state of Colorado, stating that she was qualified to teach early childhood education. Unfortunately that letter she worked so hard to get would be gathering dust in her go-bag for the rest of the summer.
She had considered volunteering at the library, but the gas or bus fare would suck up funds. It was too hot to bake, one of her favorite hobbies, and there was only so much TV she could watch, or paperbacks to read in the sweltering heat. No internet, since Rey took his laptop with him and her phone was the most basic model she could afford.
Lily sighed. She hated being idle. If she was going to read, she might as well do it while at the laundromat about five minutes away by car. She’d grab one of the latest mysteries from one of her favorite authors that Lucie had lent her, and hopefully find a cool enough spot to lose herself in a whodunit while the machines completed their cycles. She was lucky to have similar tastes in books as her friend Lucie. In fact, they were so similar that Lucie jokingly referred to her as “the sister from a different mister.”
They looked enough alike, with their wavy chestnut hair, warm brown eyes and dimples that deepened whenever their lush lower lips curled into smiles. They even dressed the same, since Lucie would give her clothes that she claimed she couldn’t -or wouldn’t- wear any more. With Lucie’s love of shopping, she made it seem like Lily was doing her a favor by taking them.
Rey probably allowed her to keep Lucie as a friend because he made Lily sell off the more valuable castoffs.
She had enough change set aside for two loads, lights and darks, so she started to sort through the hamper—a fancy name for the cheap plastic trash bin that had been repurposed to hold their dirty clothing. In this heat, and Rey’s almost daily workouts, it was unsurprising that the piles of soiled clothing grew like a bag of popcorn in the microwave.
At last she reached the bottom of the hamper, and it moved easily as she leaned in. It also seemed to butt up against something soft behind it. Perhaps a towel had fallen there?
Lily tilted the plastic bin forward and reached for it. Not a towel. She frowned slightly as she pulled out a canvas duffel bag, roughly the size of one of Rey’s shoe boxes. It was black, and completely unfamiliar. The bag was also stuffed halfway with something light.
Maybe it was something Rey was using for his workouts — sometimes he met up with some ex-Army buddies for pick up games.
That must be it. She started to unzip it, to see if there was anything that needed laundering inside, and then she’d be ready to go.
Except there weren’t socks or compression sleeves inside.
Her fingers froze, as disbelief flooded her system. She forced herself to continue pulling down the zipper, as her mind kept refusing to believe the input from her eyes.
