Page 27 of Jack

“Don’t care,” Jay grumbles.

“Come on, brothers. Let’s go for a ride.” Hendrix stands and leads the way to the parking lot.

Getting my cousin out of here is a good idea. I still wanna know what’s going on with him. It’ll have to wait, though. Jay’s a very private person.

“I hear you brought an angel,” Bankz says to Shepherd when we reach our bikes.

“Yeah.” Shepherd tosses a leg over his bike.

“She’s with Mom,” I add.

“She’s still here?” Bankz pauses before putting his helmet on.

“Yeah.” Coty snickers and grins at me. “From what I hear, she may not leave.”

Hendrix reads between the lines and snaps his head toward me. “Really?”

I don’t say yes. I don’t say no. I can’t say anything. I can’t get close enough to Lily to figure out what’s going on. Thankfully, none of my brothers makes a joke right now.

Bankz nods once. “Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help her.”

“Thanks, guys.” No more needs to be said. A ride would help clear my head, though. “Let’s ride.” I look over my shoulder at my cousin. “Lead the way.”

For the next two hours, we roam the back roads of the county. I let the wind and pavement soothe my troubled spirit. Riding with Jay and our brothers is the best medicine I could hope for. Still, more times than not, my mind drifts to the beautiful angel I’ve silently sworn to protect.

Chapter 12

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Lily

After helping Nanny clean up the kitchen, we spend the rest of the day relaxing around the house. And when this woman relaxes, she relaxes. She suggested a few things I could do before she settled down in a comfy chair by the fireplace. There’s no fire going. It’s not that cold.

Nanny hasn’t asked for my story or the details about what happened Sunday night. She can probably figure everything out from whatever Nina put in that file. I thought she would bring the subject up since it was just the two of us here. But nope. Not one word. She sat quietly in that chair, reading and answering emails and texts. The only thing she’s gotten up to do is make coffee. The stuff has to run in her blood. I’m not complaining. It’s in mine, too. I finally saw the yellow bag ofGevaliacoffee when she made the last pot. I’m definitely investing in this brand.

“Did the clothes fit? If not, I can get you some more.” Nanny closes her book and lays it on the table by her chair.

This is the first she’s spoken in hours. Usually, when I get coffee, she just looks up and smiles. I’ve been sitting on the couch for half an hour reading a magazine I found in the kitchen.

“Yes, ma’am.” I tried on everything in the suitcase like she asked. “You knew exactly my size. You didn’t have to get me new clothes, though.”

I tried to give her a few items back this morning when I noticed they still had the store sales tags on them. I was expecting her to just loan me a few things from her closet. Nearly every item in that suitcase is brand new.

She places her hand against her chest. “I may have picked some of the items up at the store, but I didn’t actually buy them. Ariel’s Angels has a private closet called Ariel’s Attic. We do fundraisers throughout the year to help fund it, and some of our friends donate new and gently used items.”

Friends? She means people who know what they secretly do. Some of the women they’ve helped have probably contributed to this closet. Now that I know about it, I’ll be one of them once I’m on my feet again. I was grateful the panties and bras were new and still in their original packaging. Everything else, I wouldn’t have minded if those were gently used.

“The suitcase and everything in it is yours,” she adds.

Wow. That suitcase is huge. It’s packed with clothes and way more accessories than I need to start over. It makes me wonder just how much is given to Ariel’s Attic.

“Thank you.” I’m not sure if I’m ready to talk about the serious stuff, but I take a chance anyway. “Why do you do all of this? It’s more than just rescuing women.”

She wraps one hand around the other on her lap and watches me for a moment. “We weren’t able to save our daughter. We were all losing our minds. So, we gave our grief, anger, and our‘what do we do’moments an outlet before they consumed us. In honor of Ariel, we save as many women as we can. Helping these women start over lets little pieces in us heal for a while.”

“Ariel was like me.” The pain in her eyes makes me feel horrible for asking.

She presses her lips together and nods. Finding strength and bravery, she pulls out of thin air, her eyes meet mine. “Yes, Ariel was a victim of domestic violence.”

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