Page 30 of Sheltering Lily

“Shut up,” Stout snapped, “or I’ll put a bullet in you that’ll shut you up for good.”

I gave a nod of understanding. I’d gained the knowledge I needed. They wouldn’t hesitate to shoot, but that was all they had in their arsenal. And they were witless. They hadn’t even taken the precaution of securing my hands with duct tape.

My size alone should make them nervous. I was taller than both of them, and in the time since I’d left the service, I’d lost none of my muscle mass. But they were choosing to underestimate me, and that was fine with me. Their mistake.

Another mistake was the assumption that their guns would protect them from me. I didn’t need a gun to subdue them; my training had taught me plenty of ways to incapacitate an enemy. I just had to make sure Lily was safe first. I could get the guns away from them and keep myself from being shot, but there was still a chance one of the guns could fire while I was securing it—and I wasn’t going to risk Lily potentially being in the line of fire. I needed to know where she was first.

“Keep an eye on him while I look for Lily,” Stout barked at ponytail guy.

I slouched in the chair, watching Stout from under the brim of my baseball cap, as he opened the bathroom and closet doors.

“You here, Lily? It’s John. I’ve come for you,” Stout called out in a singsong voice, making me cringe. Reaching into the closet, Stout pulled out one of Lily’s coats and held it up to his face. He took a deep breath before tossing it on the floor and walking across it. My muscles went rigid with the effort of holding myself in place. When I got my hands on Stout…

Stout swung the bedroom door open, calling, “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” and waited a beat before stepping inside. I was fully aware that Lily might be concealed in there, but I bided my time, readying myself to move at the slightest sound. I angled my head just enough to surveil the ponytail guy. He was looking nervous, and the gun hung from his limp hand. It would be so easy to take him down…but no, I couldn’t risk him getting off a wild shot.

“Lily?” Stout said. “You shouldn’t be hiding yourself from me. I don’t like that, and you want to please me. Lily! Come out, now!”

A gasp and grunt came from the bedroom, rocketing me to my feet. My guard had half-turned toward the sound. Sensing that this was my best opportunity, I lunged at him. The man spun and squeezed off one shot—toward me, thankfully, rather than toward the bedroom—before I took him to the floor, knocking the gun clear. With brutal efficiency, I subdued my opponent. In seconds, ponytail guy lay unconscious on the floor. I did a quick search of his body, seeking other weapons. I tossed aside a second gun and a hunting knife before rising and heading for the bedroom.

A white-faced Lily stepped over the threshold, clutching a clay sculpture in her hands. She leaned against the wall.

“Stout?” I asked.

“On the floor.” She lifted a shaking hand and pointed into the room.

I went through the door and grinned when I saw Stout stretched out face down on the white carpet. The man groaned, starting to revive and push himself off the floor. “No, you don’t.” I smashed my fist into Stout’s jaw, ensuring that he wouldn’t get up. I was tempted to pound on the guy, give him the punishment he deserved for harassing Lily, but I held back. I’d let the legal system sort this mess out. My best guess was that he’d gotten mixed up in something much bigger than simple harassment. Whatever it was, I hoped that it meant he’d get put away for a long time.

I grabbed Stout by the shirt collar and dragged him into the living room, putting his body next to his accomplice. Since—unlike them—I was no amateur, I stepped into the utility closet and grabbed a roll of duct tape to bind the men’s hands and feet together. Neither of them was moving.

When I straightened from my task, Lily was watching me, her hazel eyes huge, her lips trembling. I went to her and drew her in for a hug. After no contact between us for days, it felt so right to have her against me. I closed my eyes and held her, loving the way she melted into me.

“I was so scared when I realized Stout and his buddy were prowling around,” she whispered. “They must have been waiting for me to get home after my class. I should have realized…”

“Shush,” I said into her hair. “You took him down. He can’t bother you anymore.”

She laughed weakly and quipped, “Art saves the day, I guess.” She tilted her face up to mine, and I wanted to kiss her in the worst way. I almost thought she was asking for my kiss, but I hesitated and the moment passed. “When I heard your voice, I knew it would be okay. That gave me the courage to fight him.”

“I better call the police to come get these guys.” I loosened my hold on her and stepped back.

“Wait, you’re hurt.” She gripped my left wrist, her eyes on a bleeding gash on my forearm. “Was that the shot I heard?”

“Must have been.”

“Don’t you feel it?” she asked, keeping her hold on me.

I shrugged. With the adrenaline pumping through me, I hadn’t noticed the wound until she brought my attention to it. I took stock of it. The traces of gunpowder told me that it was definitely from a bullet, but I’d had far worse in my time in the Navy. And if I had to choose between a bullet having a close call with me or her, I’d pick me any day.

“It’s fine,” I said, dismissing the injury. It was starting to throb, but not enough to bother me.

“No, it’s not,” she insisted. “You’ve got to get treatment.”

I wanted to think her words were driven by love for me, but I rationalized that she would say the same to anyone. She cared about others. That was in her makeup as a person.

“All right, but we should call the police first,” I said, pulling my phone from my pocket and dialing 9-1-1. While I was speaking with the dispatcher, I caught her hand and held it, not wanting our re-established connection to disappear.

16

LILY

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