Chapter 139
Chapter 139
Lily’s POV
My hands tremble, the phone still warm from Crew’s call, his fierce “I love you, Lil, I’m coming” echoing in my shattered heart,in the suffocating dark. I’m crouched in the woods, the cold seeping through my puffy coat, my ribs screaming from Dad’s kicks, my cheek throbbing where his fist landed, blood crusted at my lip. Mom’s beside me, her frail frame shaking, her face bruised, her eyes hollow with fear, her bloodied lip a mirror to my own wounds. The Long Island estate looms in the distance, a prison we fled, Dad’s rage—his “You’re a whore!” over my Vermont photos with Crew, his fists on us both—still a living nightmare. My bite on his head, my claws dragging Mom out, was a desperate rebellion, but now, hiding among the trees, his threat—“I’ll kill you!”—chokes me, fearful of a noose tightening. Crew’s promise, his driver on the way, is my only hope, his love a fire keeping me from breaking.
I turn to Mom, my voice a raw whisper, tears streaming down my bruised face. “Mom, Crew’s sending help,” I say, my words trembling, urgent. “His brother’s driver, Tony, is coming to take us to their house, somewhere safe. We just have to hold on.” My heart aches, my love for Crew—his fierce kisses, his cock claiming my virginity, his “You’re mine”—a shield against Dad’s wrath, but fear claws at me, the woods too quiet, every rustle a threat.
Mom’s eyes, wide and haunted, meet mine, her hand clutching mine, her voice barely audible. “Do you trust him?” she asks, her fear mirroring, her years under Dad’s fists—his slaps, her broken ribs—making trust a fragile thing. I nod, tears falling, my voice fierce despite the pain. “I do, Mom. Crew loves me. He’ll save us.” Her nod, small but real, is a spark, her faith in me, in him, a fragile bridge we’re crossing together.
I check my phone, my fingers numb, Crew’s text—Tony’s coming, black Escalade, you’re brave—a pulse of hope, but the wait is torture, each second a weight, Dad’s shadow a hunter closing in. I think of the photos—Crew’s bare chest, my lip-gloss kisses, our sleepy selfie after sex—exposed by Dad’s iCloud invasion, my love a sin he punished with blood. The necklace, my grandmother’s heirloom, is with Crew, a claim he wears, and I cling to it, to him, my heart screaming for his arms, his strength, his love to erase this terror.
A low rumble breaks the silence, headlights cutting through the dark, and my breath catches, panic spiking—is it Dad? I pull Mom lower, her gasp sharp, but the vehicle slows, a black Escalade, its door opening, a man stepping out, his voice calm, authoritative. “Miss Lily?Miss Mary? I’m Tony, Crew’s driver. You’re safe now.” Relief crashes through me, a sob tearing free, my body trembling as I stand, pulling Mom up, her weight heavy, her fear fading off.
“Mom, it’s okay,” I whisper, my voice urgent, guiding her forward, my ribs protesting, my heart racing. Tony’s eyes are kind but sharp, his frame imposing, a gun holstered at his side, a protector sent by Crew. “We’re going with him,” I say, my voice firm. Mom nods, her steps faltering, and Tony helps, his arm steadying her, ushering us into the Escalade’s warm interior, the leather seats a stark contrast to the cold woods, the locked doors feeling like a relieving sanctuary.
I sink into the seat, Mom beside me, her hand clutching mine, her tears silent but endless. Tony climbs in, the engine purring, and we pull away, the woods fading, the estate a distant threat. My heart’s still pounding, my body aching, but relief—sharp, overwhelming—floods me. Crew's promise is real, so is his love .
I fumble for my phone, my fingers shaking, and text him, my words a desperate pulse: Crew, Tony got us. We’re safe, in the Escalade, heading to your house. I love you.
I hit send, tears falling, my chest heaving, the weight of our escape, our survival, crashing down.
I think of Dad, his stitches from my bite, his “I’ll kill you!” a vow I know he means, his rage over my photos, my rebellion, a storm we’ve barely outrun. My body trembles, my bruises a map of his cruelty, Mom’s bloodied lip a reminder of what we’ve endured. I fought him, “You’re a monster!” a truth that freed us, but the cost—my swollen jaw, my cracked ribs, Mom’s broken spirit—is a wound I’m carrying. Crew’s voice—“You’re so fucking brave”—is a balm, his love a fire I’m clinging to, his driver’s presence a shield I trust.
Mom’s voice, faint, breaks the silence. “Lily, you… you saved me,” she whispers, her tears falling, her hand squeezing mine. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t…” Her voice cracks, guilt and love, and I lean into her, my sobs mingling, our pain shared, our escape a miracle.
“You’re here, Mom,” I say, my voice raw, my tears soaking her shoulder. “We’re free, because of us, because of Crew.” My heart aches, my love for her, for him, a fierce, burning thing, my fear still alive but fading, Tony’s steady driving a promise of safety.
I think of Crew, his fierce “I’m coming”, his plan with Billy, his house, a haven I’ve never seen but trust. I imagine his arms, his lips, his cock, his love erasing Dad’s marks, making me whole. The necklace, he claimed, is a ghost I feel, his “I love you” my strength. I glance at Mom, her face pale, her eyes closed, and vow to protect her, to fight, to never let Dad near us again. The Escalade hums, the road stretching, each mile a step from hell, toward Crew, toward safety.
My phone stays silent, but I know he’s coming, his love a fire I’ll meet, his strength my anchor. Dad’s out there, his rage a threat, but I’m not his anymore—I’m Lily, Crew’s, Mom’s, my own. I fought, I ran, I survived, and I’ll keep fighting, for us, for love, for freedom, no matter the cost, no matter the dark.