AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Why are you helping me?”
He blinks. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“You don’t know me. I showed up here out of nowhere, and you’re letting me stay. Why?”
“I’m not stupid, Lily. I can see someone has hurt you. You might not want to admit it yet, but you came to a complete stranger for help. I’m not going to turn you away. I don’t have much, but whatever you need to feel safe right now, I’ll do what I can.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. Unshed tears sting the corner of my eyes, and I blink furiously, not wanting to show any weakness in front of any man–even Harley.
“Get a good night’s sleep, Lily. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I step aside to let him leave, closing the door softly. My eyes wander around the room. There’s a small desk in the corner and a double bed with two bedside tables. The bedding is navy and there’s a distinctly male scent that settles around me as I lie back against the pillows and stare up at the ceiling.
I WAKE WITH a start. Sitting up, I look around the dark, unfamiliar room. My heart is racing, and it takes a moment to remember where I am. I’m sweating, having fallen asleep in my clothes, and I shuck off my leather jacket, fanning myself.
My mouth is dry, and I’m desperate to use the bathroom. I have no idea what time it is, but it’s still dark outside. I creep to the bedroom door, wincing when a floorboard creaks underneath me. Opening the door, I pause, listening to see if there’s any movement from anywhere in the house. It’s deathly silent.
I use the bathroom, pulling another face when the sound of the toilet flushing echoes around the silent house. I make my way down the hall toward the kitchen. The clock on the oven tells me it’s just after five. I flick on the light and search the cupboards until I find the glassware. The water helps my parched throat, and I fill myself another glass, leaning back against the counter as I drink it.
There are some photographs stuck to the fridge, and I move closer to get a good look. There are a couple of photosof Harley and Tom when they were younger with a beautiful woman with long dark hair–I assume it’s their mum. A photo of Harley with another dark-haired guy and a gorgeous blonde girl catches my eye–they look to be mid-teens. I wonder if she might be his “complicated” ex-girlfriend. There’s another picture of the three of them, along with two other guys who look slightly older, and one of Harley and the dark-haired guy with surfboards tucked under their arms. But there’s no other photos of Tom, or any that look like a father figure.
Feeling brave under the cloak of darkness, I creep across the hall to the living room. I find a lamp in the corner and switch it on for some light. Hanging above the mantle over the fireplace are two framed watercolour portraits. One is Harley, from the waist up, a surfboard tucked under his arm. The likeness is uncanny, almost as if it were a photograph that has faded over time. The detail is incredible, and it has me stepping closer. The other is Tom, arms crossed as he leans casually against a yellow Ford Mustang GT. In the corner of each is a small lily and the initials LB.
Beneath the hanging portraits are a range of framed photographs. The one on the end is the same woman I suspect is their mum. She’s stunning, with pale blue eyes that almost look grey. They’re different from the bright blue of Harley and Tom.
There’s an obvious gap next to her photo where another frame once sat. I wonder what happened to it. I move along, drinking in more of Harley and Tom at various ages. There’s a high school graduation photo of Harley with the same two people from the photos in the kitchen, but I can’t see one forTom.
A loud creek from behind me has me whirling around, my hand going to my chest as I suck in an audible gasp. Harley is standing in the doorway in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, the long tendrils of his dark hair falling over his eyes. He pushes it back off his face, blinking sleepily into the room.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep.”
“Me neither.”
“Is this your mum?” I ask.
His eyes drift over my shoulder to the frames behind me, expression unreadable. “Yeah.”
“She was beautiful.”
He smiles sadly, picking up the frame and running his thumb over her face. A heavy silence settles over the room. Harley’s grief is palpable, and I wonder how long she’s been gone. When I first laid eyes on him in Dukes a few months ago, he seemed like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He has the same look in his eyes now.
“How… how did she die?” I ask softly.
“Car accident.” His free hand forms a fist, and I watch as he grits his teeth.
“That’s horrible to have her taken so suddenly from you.”
“Yeah.”
“You look like her.”
“Thanks.” He clears his throat as he replaces the frame on the mantel and turns to face me with a pinched expression. “About before, in the kitchen–”
“Forget it. It was nothing.”Is anything I say the truth anymore?
“Right. Nothing.” Harley rubs the back of his neck. “Uh… I think I’m going to go for a surf. Do you want to come?”
