Page 93 of Creeping Lily
“Titan,” he says finally, voice low and certain.
The name settles between us like a loaded gun—dangerous, solid, impossible to ignore. I turn it over silently on my tongue, a name that feels like it belongs to someone forged in secrets and shadows.
Titan.
Like the Titans of myth—mighty, unstoppable, carved from the kind of power the world feared. The man with the beautiful name steps back and tells me he’s brought breakfast. But I barely hear him. His name is stuck in my head, looping over and over. My lips move soundlessly, testing it, tasting it. Titan. Titan. Titan. Strong like one. Built like one.
“How long have I been here?” I ask as I take the seat across from him. The table between us is set with takeout containers—eggs, pancakes, avocado smash. A feast. I don’t even know where to start.
“Three days,” he says.
“My mom and grandma are strict about contact. Every two days, without fail. If I miss a check-in, they’ll send a search party.”
He sets his fork down, finishes chewing, and wipes his mouth with a napkin. Even that small motion feels deliberate—precise.
“I’ll let you call them,” he says, and the ease of it catches me off guard.
When he pulls my phone from his pocket and places it on the table, my pulse kicks up. I hadn’t even thought about it, had just assumed I’d lost it when he dragged me off the street. My eyes flick from him to the phone and back. It can’t be as simple as him just… giving it to me.
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch.” He picks his fork back up. “I trust you won’t do anything stupid.”
“Your faith in me is… weird,” I say, brows knitting. “You’re really just going to let me call?”
“After breakfast,” he says, taking another bite.
When I finally make the call, Mom’s disappointment is clear. She’s upset I’m not coming home for spring break. Grandma Josmooths it over, saying Mom will be fine and that there will be other breaks. Surprisingly, she doesn’t press for details—doesn’t even ask why I changed my mind.
I hang up just as Titan reappears from the hallway, pulling a fresh black Henley over his chest. It clings to his body like it was made for him. His mask is still in place, but without the hoodie, I can see the dark waves of hair brushing the back of his neck. There’s something almost otherworldly about him—half man, half shadow.
Titan in all black is dangerous to look at. I’ve never had enough time to truly study him before, but now I see the way he moves—fluid, unhurried, every motion grounded in strength. He’s not just fit. He’s built like a fortress.
He heads to the fridge, pulls out two sodas, and hands me one before cracking his own. I watch as he tilts his head back, the column of his throat working with each swallow. When his eyes drop to mine, I decide to stop dancing around it.
“You killed that woman,” I say quietly, my voice steady even though my heart isn’t.
His gaze doesn’t waver. For a long moment, he just stares at me from behind the mask, and I wish to God I could see his face.
“I killed them both,” he says at last, blunt and unshaken.
The words hit like a punch to the ribs. My breath stutters. “You’re a monster.”
“Ask me why.”
I stay silent. I don’t want his excuses.
“Ask. Me. Why.”
Something in his voice tells me he won’t drop it until I give in. So I do. “Why?”
“Larry and Sheila Shine have spent years exploiting children,” he says. “They trafficked kids on the black market. The ones who survived their torture chamber, anyway. There are sixbodies buried on their property that we’ve recovered so far. At least thirty-five others are missing, and we know it’s them.”
My skin prickles. The room suddenly feels colder.
“So you killed them?”
“They would’ve kept going. There’s no justice system that was going to stop them.”
