Willing Captive

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

Homecoming

 

 

 

 

 

Lily

 

 

 

 

 

My heavy head pounds.

 

And the yelling doesn’t help.

 

“You are out of your f*cking mind! Do you know that? You couldn’t have waited like I asked? Nooo.” That sounds like Rock.

 

“You think you could wait if it were Boo?”

 

I know that voice.

 

My body breaks into goosebumps and I bury myself further into the covers of my bed, listening.

 

Silence, then, “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Been too long already. Couldn’t wait.” Pause, then, “Couldn’t.”

 

Rock barks out a humorless laugh, “Yeah, you did real good, buddy. Your girl just fainted in a cemetery!” He claps, “Bravo.”

 

Silence.

 

A long silence.

 

He says quietly, “I just couldn’t wait to see her, man. She’s all I think about.”

 

My heart pounds.

 

He sounds so dejected. There are so many things I need to ask. I need answers. I’m confused and still very much mourning him, even though he’s here.

 

My mind is elsewhere. Left the building. Gone.

 

Slowly, I get out of bed without making a noise and creep down the hall. When I get there, I hear Nox ask, “Where’s Boo?”

 

Rock replies on an exhale, “She didn’t want to come.”

 

Wow. That hurts.

 

I love Boo.

 

He adds, “Too hard, man. She couldn’t say goodbye again. F*cked her up last time. Cried for weeks.”

 

Shit. That hurts even more. But I get it. I was the same.

 

Nox calls out, “I know you’re there, baby.”

 

Busted.

 

My heart palpitates. I’m worried. And nervous.

 

He says softly, “You take your time, princess. I know this isn’t easy.”

 

Clutching at the corner of the wall, I close my eyes, and swallow hard. Giving myself an internal pep talk, I straighten and walk out into the kitchen-slash-lounge-room-slash-dining-room.

 

What? My apartment is small, okay?

 

My heart stops at the sight of him.

 

He’s real.

 

And hurt.

 

Sitting on my crappy secondhand sofa, he reaches to the right of him for his cane and stands, smiling softly.

 

My stomach flips.

 

I missed that smile. I saw that smile in my dreams every night for six months.

 

I thought that smile was dead.

 

My body trembles. Completely overwhelmed, I cover my face with my hands, and burst into tears. Nox moves to come to me, but Rock beats him to it with, “Don’t worry, man. I got her.”

 

Rock wraps an arm around my waist and holds me steady while I cry. Wiping at my tears with shaking hands, I look over at Nox. My breath hitches. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

 

Gripping his cane so tightly his knuckles turn white, his face pained, he shifts from foot-to-foot. And just like he used to, he says something so perfect that I shiver. “I promised I’d come for you.” Still standing, he asks quietly, “I’m sorry, babe. Do you mind if I sit?”

 

My head clears, and I notice his hand on his cane is shaking as if he can’t hold himself up any longer. I nod and he sits back, breathing heavily.

 

All that from standing a few minutes?

 

Placing my hand on Rock’s at my waist, I squeeze and he releases me. Suddenly stronger than I’ve been in an age, I walk over to sofa and stand in front of Nox. He whispers, “Hey, Maude.”

 

Biting my lip to hold back my smile, I whisper back, “Hi, Hank.”

 

It’s slightly awkward. It feels like I’m stuck in a dream. But my heart kick-starts after six months of hibernation.

 

He doesn’t move to touch me and I’m grateful. Too much is happening right now.

 

I take a moment to search him.

 

This Nox is not the same Nox I grew to love. There’s something missing from this Nox. I can’t tell what yet, but it almost looks as if he’s lost a part of himself. A part of his soul.

 

There is scarring all over his hands and some on his face and neck.

 

He looks tired. And defeated.

 

His hair is long now. So long, that he runs his hand through it to keep it out of his eyes.

 

Those eyes.

 

I remember those eyes.

 

As if he hears my mental thoughts, he looks up. His icy-blue eyes meet mine and I inhale quickly.

 

Stepping a little closer, I move between his legs, holding his gaze all the while. His eyes flash before they turn soft. Reaching up, he takes hold of my hand and mutters, “Hey baby.”

 

My heart beats faster. Warmth encases my entire body. It’s a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time. It feels strange and unfamiliar.

 

Letting go of his hand, I reach up and hold his face in my hands, and really search.

 

My hands cup his cheeks and he swallows hard, shutting his eyes tightly. He breathes deeply before exhaling softly. When he opens his eyes again, I see only one thing there.

 

Love.

 

The smile that forms on my face is huge. I utter quietly, “There you are.”

 

His eyes crinkle, and he says softly, “Baby.”

 

Oh my god.

 

It just hit me like a chair to the face.

 

This is real!

 

I’m not dreaming. I’m not crazy. Nox is here!

 

He came back for me. Just like he said he would.

 

Stepping back a moment, I look back at Rock, and say to both of them, “I’m really happy, guys. Really happy.” They both smile. I add, “But I need answers.” My breath hitches, and my eyes burn. “Because I don’t know if I can get past this.”

 

Rock nods in agreement while Nox runs a hand over his face. I don’t think I’m going to like what I hear.

 

Rock starts, “We never lied to you, Lily. We thought he was dead.”

 

Okay. Good. Well, not good, but at least I know they didn’t lie to me on purpose.

 

Nox rubs a hand at the back of his neck in restlessness. “I know you need to know, so maybe you can sit down for this. It’s kinda long.”

 

Moving to sit at the opposite end of the sofa, Nox looks hurt that I want to be so far away from him. It’s still so unreal. I’m nervous and scared. All I really want to do is jump onto his lap and kiss him until I can’t remember the last six months.

 

He starts, “Okay. When the first explosion went off, and the windows were blown out, I saw something in the backyard. That’s why I told you to go with Boo. And when you finally did, I made my way out there, and realized it was Jett Harrison.”

 

Nodding, I tell him, “Terah told me he had shrapnel all over his body.”

 

Nox agrees, “Yeah. He was cut up pretty bad.”

 

“She said he died from it.”

 

Both Rock and Nox shake their heads.

 

I’m confused. Terah wouldn’t lie to me.

 

I’m about to ask the question when Nox says clinically, “I killed him.”

 

My body breaks out in goosebumps, and I suck in a quick breath. I exhale, “Oh.”

 

Looking down at his hands, he plays with a finger nervously. “He was there. In the back, all cut up. Gun in hand, ready to shoot. In pain, as he was, he didn’t see me coming. I picked up a shard of glass, and ran it through him.” He lifts his head. “Not sorry I did it.”

 

Neither am I.

 

Rock adds, “That’s when the rest of the explosions went off. The house started collapsing, and…” He trails off and looks at Nox.

 

Nox continues, “And it got me. Rafters collapsed on me. I don’t really remember much after that.”

 

No. That’s not good enough.

 

My face must convey this, because Nox explains, “The only person who knew I was alive was Mitch. And he didn’t tell anyone. Not a soul, babe.”

 

“Why?” I’m starting to dislike this Mitch.

 

Nox looks me in the eye. “Because it was bad.” My eyes turn sad. “He didn’t know if I’d make it. I spent almost three months in an induced coma due to my brain swelling. My injuries were extensive. I have minor brain damage. I don’t remember or react to things like I used to. I’m still doing daily physical therapy.”

 

He blinks a moment, as if he forgot what he was saying.

 

And it breaks my heart.

 

Scooching closer to him, our knees touch, and I slide my hand into his. I prompt, “You’re still doing physical therapy?”

 

Looking embarrassed, he shakes his head. “Yeah. I’ve wanted to see you from the second I woke up. But I couldn’t, babe. If I could’ve, I would’ve.” He grins, “Learning to walk again is hard.”

 

Oh shit.

 

I whisper, “I’m sorry, honey.”

 

He smiles a megawatt smile, and suddenly I’m pissed. Gripping his hand tighter, I move even closer to him and turn to Rock. “So Mitch just decided to plant his DNA and fake his death?”

 

The air in the room changes. I don’t know what I just said, but it’s obviously a touchy subject.

 

Nox clears his throat. “No, princess. He didn’t plant my DNA. It was there, in the house.”

 

My brows furrow in confusion.

 

Nox lifts the right side of his pants leg.

 

Looking down, I cover my mouth with my hands and gasp.

 

My heart races.

 

Closing my eyes, I bury my face in my hands and sob. I stutter through tears, “I- I- I’m sorry, honey. So sorry.”

 

His arms come around me, and pull me to him. I wrap my arms around him, and bury my face in his neck. “So sorry, babe.”

 

He rubs my back and explains gently, “It’s not that bad. It could’ve been worse. Prosthetics are actually pretty advanced these days. It took a little while to get used to, but I’ve got the hang of it. My body’s just weak from being in a coma, and I need to build up my strength again. The brain damage…that’s something they don’t know about. It varies with every case. I’m really just a little forgetful.”

 

Without thinking, I pull back and blurt out, “We need to move. This place isn’t big enough for both of us, and you’ll need room to do PT. I’ll see if we can find a house to rent or something. Okay?”

 

His brows rise in shock. Then his face softens. Placing his forehead on mine, he asks, “You wanna live with me?”

 

It takes everything I have not to karate chop him for asking such a dumb question. I probe, “Do you love me?”

 

Without hesitation, he answers, “More than anything in my life.” He confides, “It was so hard in recovery. So many times I wanted to give up. Give in. Every time I told myself I couldn’t do it anymore, I thought about you. And how proud you’d be of me for doing it, even though it was so f*cking hard.”

 

My eyes close, and I breathe deeply, trying desperately to control my emotions. I say softly, “I am. I’m so proud of you.”

 

Then my body reacts on its own accord. Leaning forward, I very softly press my lips to his. His hands slide up my neck and into my hair, tangling his fingers through it, deepening our kiss.

 

Elation. Pure joy.

 

Someone coughs.

 

Shit. I forgot Rock was here.

 

Standing, he smiles, “If you guys are good, I have to get back.”

 

Turning to Nox, then back to Rock, I stand and make my way over to him. Already waiting with open arms, I all but run into his hug. He holds me tight and rocks me from side to side. I whisper, “Thank you, honey. Thank you so much.”

 

He kisses my hair. “Anytime, babe. Love you.”

 

Kissing his cheek, I utter, “Love you, too. Tell Boo I miss her. And- and that it hurts me, too.”

 

Rock breathes deep. “He’s got a bag full of clothes by the door. I didn’t know how today was gonna go, so…”

 

He trails off, and I whisper, “This is one of the best days of my life.”

 

And he beams.

 

Releasing me, he walks over to Nox who struggles to stand. Rock helps him. They man hug, but it’s not awkward or short. They grip each other tightly for a few seconds before Rock releases him and says, “Don’t give her too much shit, man. If I hear you’re giving her trouble, I’ll take care of you myself.”

 

Nox laughs. “Yeah, you might have to come get me when she gets sick of my ass.”

 

And even though it sounds like a joke, I know it isn’t. It breaks my heart. Where did the confident, assured man I loved go?

 

My heart tells me he’s still stuck somewhere in the rubble of the safe house.

 

I think it might be right.

 

Walking Rock to the door, I wave him off before turning to my man.

 

He sits on the sofa looking uncertain and almost shy. Smiling softly, I tell him, “Right now, there’s no place I’d rather be than in bed with you.” His eyes flash. I ask, “Wanna get some sleep with me?”

 

Reaching for his cane, he takes his time standing. Walking over to him, I wrap my arm around his waist and hold him close. The hand holding the cane shakes slightly and it makes my heart hurt. We walk down the hall to my room, and I help him out of his jacket. When I move to undo the top button of his jeans, he pulls my hand away and almost barks. “No.”

 

And it shocks me. So much that I step back from him with a hand on my chest.

 

Lifting his head, he takes one look at me, and closes his eyes on a sigh. “Been back an hour and I’m already f*cking things up.” Rubbing absently at his chest, he clears his throat and explains, “I don’t like people touching my leg. Or even seeing it. It affects me a lot. So much that I suffer anxiety.”

 

He looks ashamed and embarrassed. And my gut rolls from the sight of him.

 

My hand drops to my side, and I approach him cautiously. The vein in his temple throbs, and I know he’s likely freaking out. When we meet toe-to-toe, I lift my arms and wrap them around his waist, resting my cheek on his chest. I breathe him in.

 

Same smell. Same everything. Almost.

 

Memories flood back. Silently chuckling, I ask, “Remember when I got drunk?”

 

He barks out a startled laugh. “Yeah. I do.” He strokes my hair. “My little hussy.” And I burst into laughter.

 

Suddenly, the teetering wall of awkwardness is broken.

 

We hold each other, laughing, and I look up into his smiling eyes. My face falls, and I speak around my thick throat. “Thought you were dead.”

 

His smiling eyes turn troubled. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry I didn’t come earlier.”

 

Sniffling, I utter, “No. You did what you had to do, and I’m just grateful that I’ve got you back. I don’t care about anything else.” Reaching up, I cup his cheek, stroking his jaw with my thumb. “What I do know is that I never want to be without you ever again. So I’m doing something right now that I should’ve done when I had you.”

 

Stepping back from him, I kneel, and he chokes out a startled laugh. Smiling like an idiot, I ask, “Adam Christian Taylor, born March eighteenth, nineteen-eighty-four in White Deer, Texas. I love you, and I will spend the rest of my life showing you just how much if you agree to marry me. I want you for life. You were never a fling or something to pass time. You mean the world to me. And I would be honored if you would be my husband.”

 

Face void, Nox staggers back towards the bed, sitting, leaving me kneeling in the middle of the floor.

 

…Awkward.

 

He says, “Come here, Lily,” and pats his thigh.

 

A little hurt at his lack of enthusiasm, I pout and stay where I am. Giving me a firm look, he pats his thigh again and says, “I said get over here, Lily.” And it’s so much like the old Nox that I stand immediately, and move over to him.

 

When I’m a foot away from him, he takes hold of my wrist and pulls me down onto his lap. Immediately worried about his leg, I blurt out, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

And what he says next makes me warm all over. “Been hurting a long time. You can’t see this type of hurt, though. Broken hearts don’t mend easily. And you’re not hurting me right now, baby. But even if you were, it would hurt so sweet.” Turning to face him, I kiss his lips softly and sigh. He pulls back a little. “Also, I love that you love me enough to want to marry me, but where I come from, it’s a man’s duty to ask. And I love knowing that when I’m good and ready to propose to my girl, she’ll say yes. But I don’t have a lot left to give, so please give me this, and let me do it in my own time.” He leans into my hair and murmurs, “But it’ll come soon, baby. After all this, I know I can’t live without you.”

 

And just like that, my hurt pride shrugs and smiles while giving me a thumbs up.

 

My eyes crinkle, and I place a slow kiss on his cheek. I answer softly, “Okay, honey.”

 

He reaches into his pocket and smiles. “Good. Because this ring has been weighing me down for three months.”

 

My eyes widen, and my mouth gapes, as I watch him open the red velvet box.

 

The white gold ring is simple and elegant, with a row of baguette diamonds across the top.

 

Biting my lip, I squeak and he laughs while asking, “Delilah Flynn. I love you more than I thought possible. I want to live the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me.” Just about to answer, he adds, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be the man I was before. I just want you to know that, because I’ll understand if you don’t want a damaged man as a husband.”

 

Not even bothering to acknowledge that last statement, I bend down as he reaches up.

 

Our lips meet in a slow but deep kiss and I mutter against him, “I can’t wait to be Lily Taylor.”

 

I feel him smile against my mouth. Pecking my lips, he asks something that makes me go rigid. “Want to meet my mom?”

 

 

 

 

 

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