Taking Mine (23 page)

“Not even for the money?” His face gives away his doubt.

“There’s no way.”

Justin releases his hold on me and stalks away before coming back. “Taylor was pushing the idea of you going first.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know. I think we should talk with Kip before we decide anything.”

“Okay, yeah,” I say, nodding. “That sounds good.”

“Trust me, okay? We’ll figure this out.”

WHEN I WALK INTO THE KITCHEN,
Kip takes one look at me and knows something is very, very wrong. When Justin follows in right behind me with an equally serious expression, it only makes it worse. Kip automatically takes a seat. He already knows he needs to be sitting for whatever we are about to tell him.

“Did you know?” I wasn’t planning on my words coming out as harsh as they do, but my mouth has plans of its own.

“Lilly.” Justin says my name in a warning tone.

“Did I know what?” Kip releases the bandana tied around his neck.

Justin looks to me, asking if I’d rather him speak first.

I nod.

Justin pulls out a chair for the both of us. Once we’re settled and he feels like I’ve calmed down, Justin speaks. “We have strong reason to believe that the cars we’re transporting for Jimmy are a cover-up.”

This gets Kip’s attention, prompting him to sit a little straighter. “What do you mean?”

“We’re transporting weapons and drugs.” Justin pauses, taking in Kip’s reaction, trying to gauge whether or not Kip had any inkling of the sort. The level of shock and anger that resonates in Kip tells us it’s safe to assume no, he had no clue. “Specifically,” Justin continues, “cocaine.”

Kip’s eyes explore mine, looking for confirmation. “How do you know this?”

“We went back to the shipyard and took apart the Italia. We found police-issued guns packed in fleece bags in both doors and the cocaine in the trunk.”

Kip sits back in his chair, looking from me to Justin before standing. He paces much like Justin and I both did when we discovered the drugs. It seems to be a common reaction.

“Taylor knew,” Kip states after a moment.

“That’s what Lilly assumed. We wanted to talk to you before we did anything.”

“Nothing,” Kip says, sitting back down.

“But Dan and Ethan—”

“I know. I’ll figure something out before then. For now, stay away from the shop and Taylor. Don’t tell anyone.”

“There’s something else you should know,” Justin says. “Jimmy had someone working for him before. There was already a car in storage when we dropped off the Italia. We couldn’t get in it, but I think it’s safe to assume we’d find the same.”

There’s a long pause before Kip replies. “And it’s safe to say whoever was working for him before isn’t working for Jimmy anymore.”

“Not likely.”

“Okay.” Kip looks to me. “Pack up some stuff and stay at Kaley’s until I say otherwise.”

I’m already rolling my eyes, ready to argue, when Justin says, “She can stay with me.”

Justin’s words stop not only me, but Kip, who gives Justin a look of disbelief.

“Kaley lives uptown, and I’m right across from the school. I can keep an eye. It’d make me feel better about the situation.”

“Make you feel better?” Kip says, his voice tight with indignation. “This isn’t about you. This is about keeping my sister safe, and the last person who should be protecting her is the punk who goes for joyrides in stolen cars.”

Justin’s temper flares. “With all due respect, I’m not the one who got her involved in this fucking shit in the first place.”

I leap from my seat to stop Kip’s advancement on Justin, placing a hand on his chest. “Stop.” He ignores me and tries to navigate around my small frame. “I said stop.” My voice makes him pause, but he doesn’t pull his attention away from Justin.

Justin runs his thumb over his lip, giving away his nervousness. “I’m sorry. I’m out of line. I know you’ve done everything you can to supply for Lilly, and that’s admirable. My biggest concern is that Lilly is safe. I’d never want to lie or deceive you in any way, and I don’t think it needs to be said that she stayed with me the past weekend.” Justin rushes on, not wanting to dwell on his last sentence. “Regardless, it’s not my decision; it’s Lilly’s.”

It’s not a statement to Kip, but a question for me. Would I rather stay with him? We’ve literally been together for three days, barely a minute more, and he’s asking me if I want to move in with him. It would be temporary, but it doesn’t lessen the amount of pressure it puts on me…on us. He’s looking at me as if he’s torn between understanding my hesitancy and his desire for me to say yes.
Impossible
. I shake my head as I look away. He can’t care for me that deeply.
Three days,
I repeat to myself.

“What do you want, Lil?”

Justin’s voice is unsure, possibly with a hint of fear, either of what my answer will be or the level of vulnerability he just allowed me to see. The question in itself represents something much larger than him asking me where I'm planning on staying.

“I’ll stay with Justin,” I say to Kip, watching the tension fade from Justin’s features. “But only until we know everything is okay.”

Kip gives me a quick smile, his blessing of sorts. “Okay. I’ll let you know when I do.”

He gives Justin a nod of acknowledgment that Justin returns, and leaves the room. Silence descends on us and I busy myself, pushing in the chairs to the table, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Lilly,” he says.

I hum an acknowledgment. I’m stalling and he knows it. He stops my fiddling with a hand around my waist. His chest presses against my back as he places his lips on the curve of my neck.

“It’s okay, you’re scared,” he says against my skin.

“Everything will be fine. Kip’s always taken care of everything.”

“Not that,” he says, spinning me toward him.

I know he’s referencing his feelings.

Or maybe it’s my feelings.

Whatever. It’s all the fucking feelings in this damn kitchen.

I let my forehead fall on his chest so I don’t have to look at him. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I focus on his breathing and the steadiness of his heart underneath my touch. He’s so calm, like talking about this doesn’t affect him.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

I huff in amusement. “Of course I don’t. You’re going to say whatever the hell you want to anyway.”

His chuckle vibrates through my cheek, and I find the courage to look up through his laughter. “Lilly, I…” He stops for a moment, and I can hear him swallow before he continues. “I’ve asked you to trust me multiple times.”

“You have.”

“I need you to trust me when I say my feelings for you are genuine. I know the only person you’ve ever really trusted with all your heart is Kip—”

“That’s not true. What about Kaley? Or, hell, Taylor? If I hadn’t trusted him, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“But only to an extent. You’ve never told Kaley about what you do, and you’ve always been skeptical of Taylor’s choices.” He tugs on a lock of my hair. “You barely trust yourself. You’ve always trusted Kip to decide for you, and I understand it. I do.”

He just pointed out a major character flaw in me that I’ve never even noticed before. It’s a small revelation, but it’s also not. I don’t trust anyone. Not really. It wasn’t an active choice or a conscious decision; it was a survival mechanism. I keep people at arm’s length because the truth of the matter is, I don’t know how to make decisions for myself. I haven’t had to.

Since as long as I can remember, Kip has prepped me for everything in life. He taught me how to read, ride a bike, and get my first job. He’s the one who enrolled me in college. He asked me what I thought I’d be interested in, and the next day I had a packet full of college applications sitting on my bed, ready for me to pick from. I filled them out, handed them back to him, and he sent them off. When acceptance letters started rolling in, he picked the best university that offered me a scholarship and was close by.

It’s not like I’m incompetent. I’ve always fared well in school and worked hard to make good grades. I’m the only girl my age who knows how to change her own oil and rotate her tires. But I’ve never had to make any major life decisions outside of what Kip has done for me. And I trusted him enough to do that. That’s more than I can say for myself.

“That’s why when you told me you would put your life in my hands, it made it that much harder to stay away from you. I don’t deserve you, Lilly. I know that.” I attempt to cut him off, but he silences me. “Just trust me when I say that I don’t. But also trust me when I say that I will give anything to make sure you’re happy.”

Kip’s footsteps bellow through the house. No doubt a warning on his behalf to let us know he’s approaching.

“Lock up when you leave, yeah?”

“Sure.”

We watch him pull out of the driveway before we confront each other. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

He smiles, amused by my speechlessness. “I’ll wait in the Jeep until you’re ready.” He places a quick kiss on my forehead and walks out, leaving me with the mess of feelings he doused me in.

I walk to my room and pull out a spare backpack and begin folding clothes. I’m a few minutes in when I find myself opening and closing dresser drawers repeatedly and doing the same to my closet door when I realize that my wardrobe only consists of blue jeans and cotton t-shirts. In the bathroom, I do the same, looking through the medicine cabinet for anything I may need. Toothbrush, hair ties…tampons.

Should I bring tampons?

I count the days in my head and decide no. I shouldn’t be there that long, and nothing screams overly attached like stocking his bathroom with feminine hygiene products. I pack a few more items I think I’ll need and walk down the hall to the kitchen. I leave my keys hanging on the wall by the refrigerator, just in case Kip needs them for anything, and a thought occurs to me.

Opening the fridge, I smile.

When I finally climb into the Jeep, Justin gives me a strange look. “You okay? What took so long?”

Pulling the leftover pizza slice out from behind my back, I shove it into his face, laughing as it sticks.

He peels the pizza away, and a hefty amount of marinara and cheese remains with a pepperoni slice dangling from his chin. He holds the pizza in both of his hands, staring down at it with one eye open, dumbfounded.

“Gotcha,” I say, pointing a finger gun at him.

He licks his lips, a smile finally appearing. “Okay, I’ll give you that one,” he says, wiping the sauce from his one eye smeared shut. “I didn’t see it coming.”

I shrink back, suddenly scared of retaliation.

“No, don’t worry, you’re safe for now. When I do get you back, you’ll least expect it.” He takes a bite of the pizza, mostly just dough, and puts the jeep in gear. “You’ll have to sleep at some point.”

THE MICROWAVE DINGS
and I retrieve the carton of noodles. It’s a little after midnight. I’m pulling an all-nighter for Whitticker’s test tomorrow and I need fuel. Watered-down processed noodles is my obvious go-to. It was that or leftover pizza and, for the love of food, I am tired of pizza. I never thought I’d see the day that pizza would make me nauseous, but that day was a week ago.

Staying at Justin’s comes with its advantages and disadvantages. The lack of home-cooked food is definitely a disadvantage. I can make fajitas and sandwiches and that’s about it. Kip does most of the cooking at home because he hates fast food. Unsurprisingly, I find I’m spoiled in that department. Actually having to find food when hungry is a chore all in itself. Having to concoct something that takes longer than three minutes to cook is enough for me to decide I’d rather not eat.

Feeling like a study break is in order, I resume my position on the couch and flip to a rerun of Family Feud, turning down the volume so it doesn’t wake Justin up. I’ve learned he’s a light sleeper and an awfully cheerful morning person. Those two traits combined are hard to get used to when I’ve only ever shared a space with Kip, who's super quiet. Every footstep Justin takes sounds like he’s Godzilla, stomping everywhere he goes. If I don’t wake up to him trying to get in between my legs, which is almost every morning, then he’s trying to tickle me awake. Imagine the worst possible way to wake up: that’s it. I read somewhere that tickling serves no purpose other than to help build a bonding experience between two individuals, which I think is hilarious because it makes me want to commit murder at seven in the morning.