AllFreeNovel
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Lilly sits in the middle of her bed, facing away from the door. Her laptop is open to the right of her, and what looks like hundreds of printouts and notes are scattered on her white duvet. Two of our old family photo albums are in front of her.
My blood runs cold.
FUUUCK!
I’m starting to understand what this is about. Fuck, crap, fuck. I rake my hands through my hair, which prompts Lilly to turn, and I notice her headphones.
Her eyes widen, followed by her expression changing to wariness. I’m sure she wants to know what I’m doing here. Heck, I almost wish I hadn’t come. The first piece falls out of my once nice, solid barrier toward Lilly.
Shit.
After what seems like an eternity of us staring at each other, she softly says, "Hi?"
Chapter Five
Earlier,I decided to search our old family photo albums for the mystery couple. The old albums are all in my parents’ room upstairs, and we rarely go up there unless it’s an emergency. Not that we’re not allowed to; it just happens to be that way since everyone usually congregates on the first floor during the day, and Mom and Dad are only upstairs at night.
The king-size bed is to the right between two large windows. Across from the door, on the opposite wall, is a small sitting area with a short bookshelf. The doors to the massive walk-in closet and bathroom that Mom had completely remodeled upon buying the house are to the left. The entire room is mid-century modern. Chic and classy, but still cozy. Mom has phenomenal talent in arranging a room. Stepping into their closet, there is another wall of shelves that holds old photo albums and important binders and files. It feels like I’m violating their privacy, but I quickly shake the thought—I need answers.
I’m comparingsome of my notes again when something moves in my peripheral vision. My heart immediately beats in my throat since IassumedI was alone in the house. But there is Rhys, standing in the middle ofmyroom.
What the—?
I stare at him. He hasn’t been in here in years. I’m confused. "Hi?"
"Hi." Is that reluctance in his voice?
Instead of asking the obvious—what is this mess on my bed?—he points at my phone. "What are you listening to?"
Is he for real?
"Uh, Freedom Call?" My answer sounds more like a question.
"Which album?"
What. The. Heck? "Legend of the Shadowing."
"‘Tears of Babylon’ or ‘A Perfect Day’?"
Why does he care? I used to listen to this album on repeat for months, but I didn’t think he’d remember my two favorite songs. I try to hide my irritation. "‘A Perfect Day.’"
The corner of his mouth tilts up. I haven’t seen that directed at me in forever, and something inside of me flips in a somersault—a sensation that I used to experience all the time until heleftme.
"You always made me listen to that one when we were sparring with Spence."
I bite my lip, stopping the grin that wants to spread across my face. "I didn’t think you’d remember."
I don’t like this and try to compose myself. With my change in demeanor, his smile falters. His next words are spoken so softly that I think I must hear him wrong. "I would never forget that. Itwasa perfect day."
I’m speechless. We have barely spoken in years. Hehatesme.
Rhys realizes his blunder and schools his features. The mask I’ve seen for years is back in place. He nods toward the chaos on my bed. "So...what’s all this?"
I glance down, as if confirming everything is still here, and back up at him. Enough with this game; I’m too exhausted. "Why are you here?"
"I’m worried about you."
I snort sarcastically. "Yeah, right. You haven’t given two shits about me in years."
