Page 55 of The Vow Thief
“You don’t have to worry,” Elliott continued.“I’ve hired someone to make sure he stays occupied. A woman who knows how to… redirect a man’s intentions.”
That got my attention.“You’re serious?”
“Always,” he said.“Lily’s fixation on Taylor is a liability. If he’s kept busy, the thread between them breaks faster. You know as well as I do that distance isn’t enough. Distraction is stronger.”
I let the words settle. It wasn’t morality that made me uneasy; it was efficiency. Elliott Thompson never played games he couldn’t win.
“Then I assume this woman understands the assignment?” I asked.
“She does,” he said.“She’s already en route.”
A small, dark satisfaction curled in my chest. Lily needed Matt gone. And if this woman could keep him occupied long enough for Lily to forget the fantasy, all the better.
“Good,” I said.“Because if he ever came back into her orbit, she’d burn the entire world to touch him again.”
Elliott’s voice was low, measured.“Then make sure she never gets the chance.”
“I intend to,” I said.
“Keep her busy, Macon,” he replied.“Idle minds make headlines.”
The line went dead.
I slipped the phone into my pocket and glanced up at the house. Through the second-floor window, Lily’s light was on. She was pacing. Talking to herself. Maybe talking to ghosts.
I should have left it alone, but I didn’t.
I watched her silhouette until the light went out.
Lily didn’t sleep easily. She fought rest the way she fought everything else, half out of habit, half out of fear that peace meant surrender.
I pushed out of the car, shut the door softly, and made my way up the drive. The night air was sharp, the kind that woke the body but dulled the mind. Inside, the house smelled faintly of cedar polish. I took the back stairs, less creak in the wood, fewer chances for her to hear me.
Her door was cracked. Typical. She never closed herself off entirely, not even when she wanted to.
I leaned into the frame, quiet, and watched her.
She was asleep, or close to it. The lamp was still on, throwing an amber glow across her face. Her hair was a mess across the pillow, her arm flung out like she’d fallen mid-fight.
Even in sleep, she didn’t look peaceful. Her brows were pinched, her lips parted slightly, her breathing uneven. Like her dreams were arguments she refused to lose.
Watching her, I could see the part of her no one else seemed to believe existed, the fragile, almost human piece buried under all that drama.
Elliott thought she needed control. I knew better.
She needed understanding. Someone who could see the storm and not run.
She shifted, murmuring something that sounded like my name.
For a second, she looked younger. Not the Lily who broke men for sport, but the one still trying to understand why breaking them didn’t fix her.
I slipped into the room and turned off the lamp, left her in the dim quiet, and stepped back into the hallway.
Control wasn’t about chains or commands.
It was about knowing when to leave the room.
Chapter 25 - J. Raines
