Chapter 117

Lily's Pov

I think I've a problem.

Pretty sure I'm in love with Crew Mancaster.

Maybe it isn’t love. Maybe it’s just a serious case of infatuation that’s perfectly natural, considering he’s the one who took my virginity. He’s very important to me. The one boy I can never, ever forget. The one who I will remember until I’m an old lady on my deathbed, my memories running through my mind, filtered, altered. Broken.

Except for that one boy. The one who I had sex with for the first time.

The rest of Saturday night is a haze. After round two, where we both made sure we came, he cuddled me close as we dozed off. We slept in each other’s arms, and when I woke up Sunday morning, he was tucked up behind me, his dick hard and poking me in the butt, his fingers between my legs, touching my pussy, sensitive skin.

He still made me come, and I returned the favor before we took showers and got ready to leave. We had breakfast so we couldn’t wait for long. The plane was ready to take us back to Manchester school.

Back to reality.

Once I'm in school, I went to my room, collapsing into bed and slept the afternoon away. I only woke up to my phone buzzing, the room was already dark since it was after five. It’s my dad, his name on the screen a cold fist around my heart. Panic spikes, my breath shallow, the memory of his threats—“I’ll kill you if you’re with a boy”—churning my stomach. I lied to him for the weekend, spinning a tale of volunteering at a charity home to cover my escape with Crew, and now he’s checking in, his control is like a suffocating shadow. I answer, my voice trembling, forcing a calm I don’t feel. “Hi, Dad.”

“You back at school?” His voice is sharp, suspicious, cutting through the line like a blade. “How was your little charity trip?”

“Yeah, I’m back,” I lie, my fingers gripping the phone, my heart pounding. “The trip was… good. We helped a lot of kids. It was nice for my birthday.” The words feel like glass in my throat, each one a risk, knowing one slip could unleash his rage, his fists, his venomous words—slut, whore—that have scarred me since childhood.

He grunts, unconvinced. “Better have been just girls, Lily. You know what I’ll do if you’re lying, if you were with that Manchester boy.” His tone is dangerous. I flinch, the memory of his last slap—my cheek stinging, my tears useless to hid start flooding back. “I’m keeping an eye on you.”

“It was just friends and they were all girls,” I whisper, my voice breaking slowly with tears pricking my eyes. “I promise.” I clutch the lie like a lifeline, praying he buys it, my body trembling with the fear of what he’d do if he knew I was with Crew, that I gave myself to him, that I love him.

Especially if he knows that I gave my virginity to Crew.

It would be the end of me.

End of seeing Crew.

End of attending Manchester School.

I will be locked up for life under his controlling rage.

“Good,” he snaps. “Don’t fuck up.” The line goes dead, and I drop the phone, a sob escaping as I curl into myself, the weight of his control crushing me. I’m safe for now, but the lie is a tightrope, and one wrong step could bring his wrath—on me, on Mom. I grab a cookie from my duffel bag ,a sweet remnant from Vermont, and devour it, the sugar grounding me as I slip back into bed, my mind racing, my heart aching for Crew, for the freedom and devouring it before I fell back into bed hoping I don’t get caught.

Now it’s Monday morning and another school day is about to start. At least it’s a shortened day—all week we get out at twelve-thirty because of the finals’ schedule. Today is the first and sixth period, so we get to kick it off with Fig.

God, I don’t want to face him, knowing what he’s done to June and I hope he gets arrested soon.

June. I've not been able to reach her. She deleted all her socials and I think she changed her number.

I don't blame her though. Fig really broke her when he drugged her and took her baby.

She really needs some time to heal and, I hope she gets back strong since our finals is almost around the corner.

I take a shower and blow dry my hair. Get dressed in my uniform. Tie my hair back with the ribbon, remembering what Crew said. How he wants to tie my wrists together with it one day.

My skin goes hot at the possibility.

I slip on my boots and am about to put on my jewelry when I realize something.

Where is my necklace?

I unpacked at one point last night and don’t remember pulling it out of my bag. I go to the bathroom and dig in my toiletries bag, but it’s not in there. I check my purse to see if I dropped it in a small pocket inside, but no. It’s not there either.

I remember taking it off. Leaving it on the nightstand at the hotel.

I don’t remember picking it up before we left.

Panic fills me, making it hard to breathe. My father is going to kill me. That necklace is a family heirloom. It was his mother’s original engagement ring, and it has so much sentimental value attached to it. If I lose it…I throw on my uniform jacket and my thick winter coat. Put the scarf around my neck and wore a hat before I’m leaving my dorm room and eventually exiting the building, a little earlier than usual.

I need to talk to Crew. Ask him if he remembers grabbing the necklace for me.

Anything is possible, right?

If he didn’t, I can call the hotel and ask if someone turned in a necklace.There are still good people in this world who would turn in a lost item. I’m sure of it.

Right?