Page 52 of All the Ugly Things
I paced the room like a caged tiger whose first meal in days waited just outside. I was with her last night. I was rewarded with timid smiles, slightly crooked, and quiet conversation that was about nothing but sugary sweet and enticing all the same. I’d had the ability to keep her safe and protected at my grasp and let her have her way.
I could have followed her to ensure she got home okay. Had even considered it.
Now I had to sit back and do nothing? It wasn’t in my DNA.
“She made it clear she wouldn’t say who attacked her and if you notice how she’s walking slowly, slightly hunched, protecting one side, what we see aren’t her only injuries. So maybe stop yanking her around in your anger.”
“That’s it?” I threw my hands in the air.
“Someday she might trust one of us to tell the truth. And when that happens, she’ll have my full support. Until then, my job is to earn it.”
I hated it when he made sense. I made a face that said as much and the old man grinned up at me. It had the power to rile me up and calm me down all in one twisted motion.
“Did she ask you about anything?”
“She asked how much I looked into her.”
“What’d you tell her?”
“An answer that seemed to pacify her enough for now.”
“We could—”
“No. She’s curious enough to come back. If she knew, she’d flee and never give us this opening.”
He was right. I didn’t blame him. But the more I was around her, the more I wanted her in ways I shouldn’t. Having a gaping wound festering with lies and secrets wasn’t how I operated, with women or business.
“I hate this.”
“I know.”
She stepped back into the room, head down, straight to her chair. Without any fanfare or recognition I was in the room, she sat down at the seat, flipped through sheets in the file in front of her. I stood at the windows, memorizing the location of every mark on her face, every bruise, every scratch from the smallest to the largest.
Someday, I would learn the name of the man who did this, hunt him down, and pay him back one hundred-fold.
I stood still while Lilly and Dad walked through the papers. She questioned everything, proving not only her intelligence, but her distrust.
Today had not gone how I’d anticipated seeing her. After last night, with the cupcakes and the quiet conversation and the enjoyably simple time, I’d expected to walk in and see her the same.
Instead, I was met with a coldness that didn’t warm while she and Dad talked. Occasionally, she glanced at me and quickly looked away. I swore once or twice there was a faint blush on her thickly made-up cheeks, giving me intense pleasure.
“You studied auto mechanics when you were…” His voice trailed off and Lilly barely glanced at him. She was head down, scanning another opening. My feet ached to take the seat next to her so I could see the ones that grabbed her attention.
“You can say prison. It’s just a word.” She said it so matter-of-factly, my dad chuckled.
“When you were there,” he continued. “You studied that. Did you enjoy it?”
“I enjoyed the sun on my back when we could open the garage doors, but it wasn’t horrible.” She gave him a wry look, that spark of her true personality that hadn’t been completely stolen from her. “Why? Do you take care of vehicles, too?”
“No.” He laughed quietly and then coughed into his hand. “Excuse me. No, we don’t have cars here. Was there anything about it you liked?”
“I don’t know if enjoy is the right word because nothing was enjoyable in there, but the cars and the engine and learning how everything worked together came easy to me.”
“What about blueprints. Have you read those?”
“Nothing more than floor plans and that was only out of boredom.”
“Floor plans?”
