Lilly

By Jacqueline M. Sinclair

When a traumatic event leads to more devastating news, Lilly Marie knows it’s time to return to her mother’s home and figure out how to say goodbye. The last thing she expects is for Justin Hayes to walk back into her life as quickly as he’d walked out. She's not sixteen anymore but the man still causes feelings inside her she can’t fight. While she struggles to keep him on the fringes of the chaos, her logic gives way to lust and Justin discovers the truth. The more he learns the more determined he is to stand by her side, fully understanding that even as their love grows, her life fades and their time will again come full circle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jacqueline M. Sinclair
• Release date: Sep 27, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370573851

Jacqueline M. Sinclair

Jacqueline grew up in the rural southeast and is the youngest child of a large and rowdy family. Reading was an escape when there wasn't much else around to do. She loves everything from classical literature to true crime and everything in between. With her two children grown and gone, she's surrounded by a menagerie of adopted pets and a two-legged thief who refused to give her heart back after a night of karaoke. With a day job and a dream job, her writing is a steamy combination of real life and seeking to answer the age-old question of what would happen if...and then characters come along and completely derail the plan. Letting them have their say provides plenty of sleepless nights and an endless combination of coffee and wine, but she hopes you enjoy their stories.

Book preview

Jacqueline M. Sinclair

I’ve got the guts to die. What I want to know is, have you got the guts to live?

Tennessee Williams, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

Lilly

© 2014 by Jacqueline M. Sinclair

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and events are products of the author’s imagination and any similarity to true events is purely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Lilly and Isabelle walked out, side by side, giving a nod of thanks to the security guard that held open the door.

You up for that manicure today?

Pausing at her car, Lilly could feel the vibration of her cell phone in the pocket of her tailored jacket. She let it go to voice mail, keeping her attention on her best friend.

As awesome as that sounds, I still don’t feel well and Fridays kick my ass. I’m going home.

Isabelle grinned. I never thought a cushy desk job at a bank would get the better of you, Lilly.

When Lilly offered a halfhearted smile at the jest, Isabelle’s face grew serious. She leaned against the car, her arms relaxing from the weight of her briefcase. Things aren’t any better, are they, Lil?

Sucking in a deep breath, Lilly shook her head. Nope, they’re getting worse.

Lilly watched as compassion softened her friend’s features. I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but something has got to give.

Her phone buzzed again. Isabelle caught the sound of the vibration and pulled Lilly into her arms. You call me if you need me.

Lilly chuckled. The only thing I need is some peace and quiet.

The women exchanged goodbyes and Lilly climbed behind the wheel of her Camry. She pulled out her cell phone. Six missed calls from David. It rang again. So much for peace and quiet.

Ignoring it, Lilly laid the phone on the passenger seat. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with her husband. Even before his promotion he’d been toeing a line that made her nervous. Today she felt run down, achy, and unwell. She certainly wasn't up to pacifying his ego. She needed to go home, run a bath and soak her ass in the tub.

Starting the car, she left the bank and headed for home. The phone continued to vibrate, a voice mail would buzz and the cycle would start again. Maybe something’s wrong. Against her better judgment, Lilly answered.

Where the fuck have you been? he slurred.

He was fine.

I’m leaving work.

An immature snort echoed from the phone. I’ve called your office at least six times. You aren’t there.

I said I’m leaving work. I’ve been talking to Isabelle. Now, I’m in the car.

His frustration was unreasonable. Lilly tried to pinpoint when it started, the accusations, the attitude, and the drinking. It all snuck into her life with such subtlety…she pushed the thoughts from her mind. This was the road their life had taken and she couldn’t change the destination on her own.

My head hurts. I’ve been coughing all day. I think I have a fever. I’m going home and rest. She wasn’t in the mood to argue and she told him as much.

You’re such a lazy bitch.

Lilly held the phone far enough away that his screeching didn’t ring her ears. She needed to hear what he was saying, the venom he spewed. A change was on the horizon and she needed every ounce of poison to soak into her psyche, to bleed into her heart and drown out the excuses, the apologies, and the blame.

I will eat early tonight. His tirade continued. "I’m going to Mark’s to prepare for the MetLock presentation tomorrow and I will eat before I go."

Lilly felt her resolve slipping. Why didn’t you just eat at the bar?

Same reason I don’t get ass at the bar, I have a fucking wife.

Lilly wanted to disagree on the first account, but knots of stress formed in the pit of her belly. When did David become this stranger? The pressure of his work had destroyed the loving man she’d married. Alcohol fueled his inadequacies and perpetuated his destruction. The higher he climbed, the further he fell.

David would never admit it. In his mind, his promotion was evidence of his success. He was unstoppable. This MetLock account…it was a multimillion dollar fund and it would be his first score as an account supervisor. Lilly knew his presentation was flawed. It was mediocre, at best. He couldn’t get organized, he couldn’t concentrate. Now that he didn’t have a team to rely on, his sanity hemorrhaged from every weak crevice it could find. The alcohol, and she suspected other women, were just a part of it.

I’m not cooking. I suggest you get something on your way to Mark’s house.

I’ll be home in twenty minutes.

The line went dead. Lilly tossed her phone back in the seat. Fuck him. Stressed or not, she wasn’t going to be treated like a housemaid.

She rubbed her fingers across her forehead, trying to tame the stressful ache building in her temples.

Rush hour traffic in Charlotte was atrocious. Lilly spent forty minutes on the freeway leaving downtown. By the time she got home, David was pacing the floor.

You just don’t listen, do you?

Lilly refused to point out that she just got home. Leftovers are in the fridge if you’re desperate.

She had to step to the side to maneuver around him, meeting his gaze as she passed.

What took you so long, anyway? he asked.

Lilly wanted to laugh. I’ve been sitting in traffic. Not exactly what I wanted to do on a Friday afternoon.

She needed to talk to him about separating, but now was not the time. Getting him sober enough to have a conversation would be a challenge, but she knew it was time to go.

Rifling through a drawer in the kitchen, Lilly found a book of matches. She could feel David watching her as she walked to the dining room table, pulling two scented oil lanterns closer. We’ll see about ‘midnight serenity.’

You’re going to let me starve?

Feeling beat down by his lack of compassion, Lilly turned to him, her hand on her hip. David, I’m not cooking, that’s that. She pointed to the refrigerator. Leftovers.

He was in her face before she had a moment to think, the stench of alcohol overwhelming her senses. Trapped between her irate husband and the table, Lilly reached her arm between them, trying to create enough space to regain her liberty.

"Do not fucking push me," he yelled.

In a sweeping move his hand was around her throat, the force propelling her backwards. The momentum ripped her feet from under her and she landed on the table with a crash. The impact forced the air from her body. The lanterns splintered under her weight. She could feel the glass grinding into her scalp as she fought to fill her lungs. His fingers cinched around her throat even as the oil burned her wounds like salt. He drew back his fist.

Lilly ceased her struggle. Unsure if anger or defeat reflected in her eyes, she was sure rage burned in her gut. She hoped with all that she