Page 67 of Creeping Lily
And maybe that’s what gnaws at me most—that this silence feels less like peace, and more like a warning.
“Bentley…” My voice is tentative. “Who else knows about what happened that night?”
He stops. Looks at me. Hesitates. “No one. Why?”
“You said three of the four men are dead. You’re the fourth. That’s not a coincidence, Bentley. Even you know that.”
His lips press into a hard line. “No, it’s not.” His steps are measured as we start moving again. “Aside from my family—my parents, my brother—the only other person who knew was the doctor who examined you.”
“Oh my God, Bentley. The doctor?—”
“He’s dead. Heart attack. Last year.”
I stumble over my next step, the weight of it all pressing on my chest.
“You don’t think it’s strange? That everyone involved is?—”
“Dead?” he finishes for me. His voice is heavy, like the word costs him something to say.
I stop walking entirely. “Where’s your father?”
Something sharp flashes in his eyes. “Why are you asking about him?”
The suspicion in his tone hits me like a slap. “You thinkI’mthe killer?” I whisper.
“It’s not that I think you are,” he says, voice steady but laced with something darker. “But if anyone had the right to be…” He trails off, the rest unspoken—but I hear it anyway.
I’m too stunned to answer.
Because in Bentley’s world, justice and vengeance are the same thing. And the most dangerous thought of all is the one I can’t shake?—
He doesn’t just think the killer is close.
He thinks he’s doing it for me.
34
TITAN
My obsession with Lily isn’t just a problem—it’s a plague, eating through every bone, every thought, every drop of blood in my body.
It’s wrong.
God help me, it’s perfect.
She belongs with me. No—she belongstome. And the sooner I prove that to the world, the sooner I can stop tearing through life like a wrecking ball. Because without her, that’s all I am—pure destruction looking for something to burn.
The pizzeria’s neon sign bleeds red across the wet pavement, throwing the street into a feverish glow. I stand across the road in the shadows, face hidden, hoodie drawn low, the thin veil of my mask clinging to my skin. Through the big front window, I can see her—my Lily—sitting across from him.
Another man.
If it wasn’t enough that I’ve had to tolerate Justin Collins sniffing around her, now there’sthisone. And I’ve barely finished dealing with Patrick McCordy—removing that parasite from her orbit—when this new contender shows up like he’s got a right to breathe her air.
My fists curl tight, the bones in my hands aching. I watch them with a stare that could peel flesh from bone.
She’d be better off with me. She’d be safe with me. I know she feels it—that thrum of electricity every time I’m near enough for my breath to brush her skin. I haven’t had the chance to get closer than that… yet. But my time is coming. I can feel it in the marrow of my wicked bones. Lily Snow will fall into my lap, whether the world likes it or not.
I’ve been drawn to her since the first time I saw her—drawn like a starving man to a lit window. That smile. That laugh. The way she walks into a room and rewrites it.
