Page 82 of Beneath the Surface

He wouldn’t justleave.He promised.

“But I wanna pway now!” Chase screeches, hopping through the living room.

I lean over, massaging my temples, trying to soothe away the pulsing between my eyes. “I’m gonna grab some medicine and then we can go, okay? Do you need help with your shoes?” I ask.

He shakes his head, the ball pressed up against his red and blue Spider-Man tee. “Nope. I got ‘em.”

I smile at him and walk down the small hallway into our cramped bathroom, the light flickering as I open the medicine cabinet, grabbing the Excedrin. Normally, I stay away from medicine, anything that numbs pain is a slippery slope, but every once in a while I cave, knowing the migraine will incapacitate me if I don’t get it under control.

“Okay, baby boy, are you ready?” I holler, moving back to the living room. I open my mouth to speak again but my words cut off when I realize Chase is nowhere in sight.

“Chase!” I yell, my heart banging so fast it’s liable to burst through the center of my chest. My eyes scan the living room, noticing the front door is ajar.

I run toward it, my fingers jamming into the doorframe as I pass the threshold and look for him. My stomach is in knots, my breathing choppy, panic squeezing my insides. But then I see him, skipping after his ball across the road. My heart shoots to my throat when I see him approach two men, and I sprint down the staircase to chase him across the street, terror gripping me from the inside out.

Chase turns around, grinning wide when he sees me. “Mommy!” he yells, waving me over.

I pick up the pace, desperate to get him away from strangers.Who are these guys?And what the hell are they doing standing in an empty parking lot behind the bushes?

My vision blurs, eyes laser-focused on my baby boy. On making sure I don’t lose sight of him for a second. As I close the gap, relief trickles through my veins, and it’s only then that I look up.

I stop short, feet stumbling and my lungs squeezing tight. Anxiety shoots up my middle, lodging into my throat and expanding until I’m sure if I tried to speak, it would explode out of me in a guttural sob. I put my hand out, silently urging him to come closer.

He runs over and slams into my legs, wrapping his arms around my knees, and my rigid body sways but stays locked in place. Tears burn behind my eyes, my nostrils flaring to try and ease the heavy ache in my heart as I stare into a face so similar to mine.

So similar to my son’s.

My brother, Chase.

“Lily.” His voice is a whisper, but it’s enough to break the dam, and I swallow the pain that’s surging through my insides.

How did he find me?

I have no clue how I’m supposed to react. I wasn’t prepared. I haven’t planned. My fingers scratch against my wrist, nerves wringing tight, twisting until they’re about to snap. Iwantto run into his arms. Iwantto tell him how much I’ve missed him. How the little girl inside of me went missing when I did, and how for the first time I can feel her coming back to life.

“No, this isMommy.”

I smile down at my son, hoping like hell that the way my heart slams against my ribs doesn’t show on my face.

“That’s right, baby.” I smooth his hair from his forehead.

Sucking in a deep breath, I look back up and I meet my brother’s gaze.

“Hi,” I mumble.

His eyes gain a glossy sheen, his jaw muscles tensing.

“Hey, Lily. Long time.” A voice to Chase’s right steals my attention and I glance over, taking in the charming smile and hypnotic green eyes of Jackson Rhoades. My brother’s best friend. He’s seemed to have only grownmorehandsome over the years, and my heart stutters when I realize if he’s here with Chase that means they’re still as close as ever. Jealousy flares along my edges, knowing that life went on as usual in Sugarlake without me.

Still, even through the twinge of envy, my mouth lifts as I soak him in. Jackson’s always had an effortless charm that exudes from his pores, the way a rainbow breaks through stormy clouds.

“Hi, Jax.” I smile.

His eyes move to my son while mine float back to my brother. Chase is frozen in place, his brow furrowed, gaze bouncing from me to my baby boy. The scar through his left eyebrow is still as prominent as it was when we were kids, and a pang of hurt slices through me, remembering how he got it.

From protecting me.Like usual.

He doesn’t speak and familiarity lights up my insides at the brooding. Some things never change.

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