Page 107 of The Next Lie
“Nash and Ever were part of it.” I step into the closet, careful to leave space between us. “We noticed you packed light.”
“I came here to kill a man, Shiloh. I didn’t exactly plan outfits.”
“I know.”
“I had a duffel bag.”
“I know.”
“And you all just decided to…” She gestures at the closet, but her hand wavers before she drops it. “What? Fix it?”
“No.”
She looks at me then, eyes wet and suspicious.
I keep it simple because anything prettier will make her retreat.
“We just wanted you to have what you need.”
Her mouth twists. “That’s all?”
“Yes.”
“You bought me an entire closet full of clothes, Shiloh. I just needed…some jeans. A few T-shirts.”
I open and close my fist. Look at the clothes. Back at Reva. “Damnit, Reva, we bought you an entire closet because you were living out of a bag in a house full of people who keep telling you to stay.”
She looks away.
“Nash noticed first,” I say. “He didn’t say anything, because Nash was raised by portraits and stick-in-the-muds, but he noticed. Ever checked your sizes because he is offensively practical. I shopped because if those two had done it, you would own twelve black shirts, cargo pants, and possibly a lifetime supply of thongs.”
That almost gets me a smile.
Almost.
“This was on our list,” I say. “Along with security, training, answers, and keeping you from running directly into the nearest death trap.”
“This is sounding like a complicated list.” She snaps those infernal rubber bands on her wrist, but the lines on her forehead are beginning to smooth out a bit.
“You are a complicated woman.”
Her fingers curl around the sleeve of the sweater. “It feels like a big deal, Shiloh.”
“It’s only a big deal if you make it a big deal.”
She turns on me, and the tears are closer now.
“It’s kind of a big fucking deal, Shiloh.”
My mouth closes.
She swallows. “I have spent my whole life being grateful for whatever version of safe I was given. Cal gave me a home, so I didn’t ask why it had so many locked doors. He loved me, so I didn’t ask why he bothered. He protected me, so I didn’t ask what he was protecting me from.”
Her voice shakes, but she keeps going.
“And now I’m here, and all of you are doing the same thing in different clothes. Taking care of me. Moving pieces around. Making decisions. Buying me a closet so I can stay somewhere no one has actually asked me if I want to belong.”
I feel that one under the ribs.
