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Not today, though. Today, Lily Anna is quiet and thoughtful, though she doesn’t seem unhappy. Her hands cup my face and we stare at one another intently as the sunset colors the sky above us in shades of orange and red.
“You love me, don’t you, Dexter?” she asks softly, and I find myself nodding.
I do love her. I would protect her at any cost. She’s not just the love of my life. She’s a prize I will take care of with pride, love and longing.
“Say it,” she begs, and my lips part to tell her what she wants to hear.
“I love you, Lily Anna Oakes.”
“I know you do,” she whispers, making me groan out loud.
She never says it back. It’s the little game she plays, constantly testing me to see how much of myself I’m willing to give her and pushing back when I try and get her to do the same.
“We should head back to the house,” I mutter. “My parents will be waiting.”
“Just a moment longer,” she begs, curling up against my body. “I just want another minute with you.”
It’s so hard to deny her when she gets like this.
Over the past year, I’ve found myself getting more and more attached to my fiancee. She’s as sweet as she is wicked, and I’m falling for every one of her charms without regrets. I’m unapologetically in love, and grateful that the love of my life, the most fascinating inhabitant of this strange town, is my wife-to-be.
Suddenly, an ear-piercing scream cuts through the scene. I get up, my brows furrowing as I look toward the house. Lily Anna wraps herself around my body, her hands reaching places that would usually excite me, but I’m preoccupied now, my eyes on the house in the distance.
“Did you hear that?” I ask her, and she shakes her head. “It sounded like a scream.”
“I didn’t hear anything,” she purrs, her hands wandering down my front and toying with the buttons of my shirt.
It takes everything in my power to gently pry her hands off me.
“Come on, we better go check what’s happening back there.”
She gets up grumpily, and I tell her to leave the picnic blanket and basket for the maids to clean up after. I take her hand and lead her away from our spot in the gardens. The large willow tree blocks our view of my house, but when we round the corner, I see it.
There’s sm
oke billowing from the top of the house, like something out of a sick, demented fairytale. The otherwise-perfect view of our beautiful house is spoiled by the huge cloud of grey smoke coming out of the attic.
“Lily Anna!” I pull her against me. “You need to get help. Run to the driver. Go!”
She stares at the scene unfolding before us with her eyes wide open, then clings to me, muttering, “I’m scared!”
I don’t want to admit it, but I’m terrified, too. I take her hand and we start running toward the house, my heart beating faster than ever. The screams get louder and louder as we near the house. It’s a sound I’ll never forget – one that will haunt me for years to come, though I don’t know that yet.
We reach the house to find the maids running around. I push past the throngs of people and run up the stairs to the attic. The hallway up there is filled with smoke and I start choking and coughing, grabbing the passing butler by the sleeve.
“What the hell happened?” I demand.
“We don’t know,” he says, glancing at Lily Anna. “We need to get you both out of here.”
“Are my parents in there?” I ask, fearing the answer as Anders’ eyes lock with mine.
“Master Booth, it’s… I’m afraid…” he stammers, and I know they are.
“Take Lily Anna away from here and call the fire department,” I demand, pushing my fiancee toward him. “Make sure nothing happens to her. I trust you, Anders. I don’t want a hair out of place on her.”
Anders’ eyes lock with mine and he gives me a curt nod. He seems to understand there’s no point in arguing with me, because there’s not a chance in hell I’m coming with them. Lily Anna begins to wail, and Anders pulls her after him, down the grand staircase.
I reach the door of my mother’s atelier through the smoke. It seems to be coming from that room, and so are the screams. The atelier’s door has a small glass window at the top, but my attention isn’t on that. I try the door handle and curse out loud when I burn my hand with the hot metal.
