Page 67 of Lilies from Hell

I giggle when I see the shape of my feet. Come to think of it, they look like elongated hands, but they’re still very pretty.

“Hello!” Grace says, looking up at them and waving her hand in the air.

“The red-haired one disrespected the law and insulted us. I think she at least deserves something.”

“That’s not—”

“Excuse her,” he interrupts. “She seems to have a problem with authority and obedience, even though she wants to be a lawyer.” His voice is calm and his eyes have a hint of danger to the officers. They back away looking at each other with a fear they try to mask with a serious tone.

“Okay. You can take them both,” one of them says irritably, walking to the car. Then he takes some keys out of the glove compartment and unhandcuffs Grace and me. “Let’s go, Justin!”

“I hate Saturday nights,” the one named Justin mutters as he disappears in the car with his partner on the other side of the road.

“How are we supposed to get back now? Walking?” Grace blurts out of nowhere, waving her arms.

“Take her home. I want her safe,” he murmurs to one of his men without taking his eyes off me.

“Thanks, but no need. We can go back on our own,” Grace says firmly as soon as the words leave her mouth a young man grabs her and tosses her into the van, grimacing in disgust as he hears her scream close to his ear. “You fucking jerk. I’m not a sack of potatoes.”

After the van drives off, the others also disappear, leaving me alone with him. Considering that the three of us have known each other for years and that our families are also friends, I know she’s in good hands. Besides, for some strange reason, he likes her. Maybe because she knows how close we are.

“This is what you understand by behaving? And why are you barefoot?” he finally murmurs, looking at my feet with a displeasure that I don’t like. My feet are very pretty. Many people have told me so. So why the frown?

“And what are you doing wearing shoes?” I retort with a smile.

He ignores my words with a snort before opening the passenger door of his car. I want to know what his feet are like.

“Get in,” he says, nodding toward the passenger seat, drawing my attention away from his lips.

“You don’t have to drive me, I know how to get home.”

“Get in the car, Lena.” His words are rougher now.

In the end, I sit down, remembering what happened the last time I dared to piss him off. Although, on second thought, maybe it’s not such a bad idea to do it again. My arse doesn’t hurt anymore and I’m really craving that pain now.

He quickly gets in next to me, and I bite my lower lip as a way to focus my attention on the pain my teeth are causing and not on my memories. Before starting the car, he fastens my seatbelt, making sure it’s tight. He then gets closer and I notice some red stains on his black shirt.

“I think… Your… Your shirt,” I murmur hesitantly, pointing to the stains.

“I ate a burger and some ketchup dripped on it,” he says, making me frown. The way he says ketchup doesn’t sound right to me.

“I could use a burger now,” I whisper ignoring the sudden tingling sensation in my stomach as I remember his angry face from earlier and Liam’s last words. All my thoughts that had been planted in my head are soon forgotten when I realize we’re not following the path to my house.

“Where are you taking me?”

“I’ll take you to the apartment. It’s not far from here.”

“I thought you were taking me home,” I say, frowning.

“I could, but it’s not that late and your parents are still awake. I don’t think it’s a good idea for them to see you arrive like this,” he replies, pointing at my feet.

“Hmm. True,” I murmur, wondering how he knows what time my parents go to bed. Although it wouldn’t be difficult to guess, considering how much time he spends at my house with my father. “You didn’t tell me you were back,” I say, pouting. He tenses his jaw without taking his eyes off the road.

“I texted you, but apparently you were too busy with your friend to see my messages or my missed calls.”

“Sorry, I didn’t see them.” That’s all I can think to say, unable to hide the smirk on my lips or take my eyes off his mouth as it moves with each word.

He looks at me sideways for a moment before shaking his head and snorting in resignation. He might as well be a bull with all that snorting.