“Bas, there are washcloths on the shelf. Can you grab one?” she called out as she rinsed my hair a second time.
“Here you go,” Bas said roughly, handing it through the opening in the curtain.
If I hadn’t been so foggy, if I hadn’t kept picturing the hole in the back of that man’s skull, if I could’ve forgotten the sneakers he was wearing, I probably would’ve been embarrassed to be naked in the same room as my mom and boyfriend. Instead, I was vaguely grateful that I could just stand there, my arms dangling at my sides, as my mom washed the blood away with one of the pink washcloths she’d had for about a million years.
When she was done, she called Bas again. He helped me out of the shower and wrapped a towel around me. He used another to dry my hair and then my legs and arms. Once I was no longer dripping, he led me to the bedroom, swinging the bathroom door shut.
Auntie Rose must’ve come in while we were in the bathroom, because two sets of clothes were laid out on the bed. One had jeans, and the other had sweatpants. In a daze, I grabbed the sweatpants and pulled them up my legs. Bas grabbed the matching sweatshirt and pulled it on over my head, only pulling the towel away after I was fully covered.
His hands were shaking.
“We’re back,” my dad announced from the hallway, opening the door a fraction. “How’s it goin’ in here?”
“Mom’s in the shower,” I replied, my voice scratchy.
He pushed the door fully open and stepped inside. “This is a much better look,” he teased carefully. “Baggy sweatsuit. You should always wear that.”
I tried to smile, but it just wouldn’t come.
“Your glasses still in the bathroom?” he asked.
“Shit,” Bas mumbled.
“I’ll grab ’em,” Dad said. He opened the bathroom door and slipped inside.
The shower was still running.
He brought my glasses back out to me, then grabbed the clean clothes from the bed. “Take her out to the main room, yeah?” he asked Bas quietly. “We’ll be out in a little bit.”
“You sure?” Bas asked, glancing at the bathroom door. “Lily—”
“I’m sure,” Dad said. He kissed my head and went back into the bathroom.
The next few hours were a blur. Grandma Brenna sat next to me on the couch, rubbing my back. Nova got me coffee and then later some tea she said would help me sleep. Auntie Rose was silent, but she was never far away. She pulled a comb out of her purse and gently combed out my wet hair.
Bas didn’t leave my side. Titus and Cian and Rumi and Otto and about fifteen others came over to talk to him, but they always kept it brief. My cousins each touched me, like they were reassuring themselves that I was in one piece. Mick crouched by my knees and wrapped his hand around my ankle as he spoke to me quietly. Rumi leaned down and wrapped his arms around me, giving my hair a soft tug. Otto held my hand while he spoke to Bas. On and on it went, each man stopping by to check on us.
At some point, I must’ve fallen asleep because in the middle of the night I woke up in an unfamiliar bed. My heart raced for a moment until I realized that Bas was sitting next to me. He was on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.
“Where are we?” I asked, rolling toward him.
“Spare room.”
“The club has a spare room?”
“Apparently.”
“Oh.”
Things were much clearer than they’d been before I fell asleep, and I wondered where my parents were. They wouldn’t have gone home, I knew that much. Had Gram ever come to theclubhouse? I wasn’t sure why she’d stayed behind. I didn’t need more coddling than she did—she was the one who’d had to shoot the man. I’d just followed commands like a puppet.
Bas let out a rough sound, his breath shuddering.
“I’m okay,” I reminded him. “I’m not hurt.”
He didn’t answer.
“It scared me,” I continued, because I wasn’t really sure what else to say. “But it was over really quick. I walked backward from the front door to the kitchen, and then Gram shot him. It was less than five minutes. Three, probably. Maybe not even that.”
