Page 119 of Beneath the Surface

Since Chase and Lee don’t have a landline, and I didn’t want to call from their cell phones, I’ve decided to just surprise him, and hope that he’s there when I arrive.

But Ineedto see him, not only because I miss him, but also because what Masondid for all those women, the way he brought down his father to bring them justice, has my body craving drugs in a way that it hasn’t in years. It was triggering, in a way I didn’t expect it to be. But it also lessened my anger toward him, knowing that while he lied to me—while he broke my heart, my trust in him being a good man was on point.

Bad men don’t bring down pedophiles.

Bad men don’t lift up survivors and help them find their peace.

The thought of driving into the heart of Sweetwater has my nerves severely on edge, jitters racing through my veins like horses, but I know that if I don’t face my fear, it will eventually overwhelm me. I can’t avoid it forever.

Sam and Anna are babysitting Chase, so now is the perfect time.

I’m pulling off the highway and onto the exit ramp when the gas light comes on, so I make a pit stop, my stomach souring when I realize I only have three dollars to put in the tank.Shit.Hopefully it will be enough to get to his place and back home.

My cheeks flush even though there’s no one around to witness the embarrassment, and worry nags at my gut, wondering what I’m going to do for cash. I feel like a freeloader as it is, and I refuse to stay and mooch off of Chase and Lee for much longer. Especially since Lee and I haven’t had an honest conversation since the first day I arrived.

Sighing, I unbuckle my seat belt and open the door, glancing up at the pump number before I walk inside. As I reach the door, a tingle shoots up my back, something screaming at me to turn around and go. My steps falter, hair swishing against my face as I look around, but I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. Just two other cars, and the butt of a cigarette, still smoking on the sidewalk.

Brushing off the eerie vibes, I make my way inside to pay. There’s no one at the counter, and after a few minutes of waiting, I search for a bell or something to ring.

Does anybody even fucking work here?

Finally, a woman walks to the front, adjusting her red and yellow shirt and smiling at me. “Sorry about that, you walked in right at the shift change.”

I grin, the icy chill still lingering at my back.

Paying for the gas, I walk back to Lee’s car, the sound of the beep as I unlock the doors loud in the air. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I flip around again, scanning the area.

Nothing.

Get it together, Lily.

While the gas pumps, my fingers scratch at my wrist, anxiety eating through my muscles until there’s nothing left but bone. My heart jumps when someone slams their car door.

I don’t like being here.

It was stupid of me to come.

Getting back in the driver’s seat, I glance in the rearview mirror, reaching over and locking the doors when I get that shiver skating up my spine again.What the hell?

I shake it off,again, and continue my way to Derek’s. I’m excited to see him, knowing that it will help ground me. He’s never been one to mince words, and he has plenty of experience in talking me off the ledge.

Pulling into Derek’s driveway, I frown, my heart sinking at the fact that his car isn’t here, but I decide to try the keypad, see if it’s still the same as before. I can wait for him inside, I doubt he’ll mind.

Excitement winds around my chest at the thought of surprising him.

Walking to the front door, I grip Lee’s keys tight, the pink pepper spray holder jostling against the side of my hand.

I try the combination.Beep.

Smiling as the door opens wide, I waltz inside, immediately sighing a breath of relief. This place felt like home when I had no place to call my own.

I walk down the hallway and through the living room, my fingers dusting over the fireplace that houses pictures of Derek and his family through the years. My steps falter, my forehead wrinkling as I come across a framed photo of me, my pregnant belly the size of a watermelon, my head thrown back in laughter. My stomach clenches as I pick up the frame, my finger tracing over my face. I was so broken back then, and somehow, this picture I’ve never seen catches the very moment that I found my purpose.Being a good mother.

The craving for the high fades away, replaced with reinforced steel, this photo reminding me that I willneverdo to my baby boy what my biological mother did to me. I’m touched the photo is here, and I make a mental note to ask him to send me a copy. I’ll carry it around for whenever I’m feeling weak.

The front door creaks open, and I smile, excited that he got home so fast. I move to place the photo back on the ledge, but freeze when I hear a voice behind me.

“Look who it is.”

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