Keeping Lily (Disciples 1)

“How’s Jeanie and Alicia doing? Alicia still planning on heading to that ivy league college?”

“Yeah, she is trying hard to make sure Jeanie and I have no retirement money left, I swear.”

Laughing, I say, “Well, if she needs help getting into Yale let me know. I know a couple of their board members. I should be able to get her in and lessen some of that financial burden.”

Nodding his head, he says, “I will.”

Getting into the vehicle, I look to Andrew as I rub my hands. The Explorer looked much better when I came out of the building. “Good job.”

“Thanks, Lucifer. Where to next?”

“Let’s wait for Simon to come out, then downtown.”

We sit there for only a couple of minutes before Simon comes out of the building, zipping his winter coat up. Walking over to our vehicle he comes up to my window.

Rolling it down, I say, “Meet me downtown at Fifty-Three for breakfast, after you get the shit set to be cleaned here. I’m fucking starving. Then we need to go to a club on forty-eighth street I’m looking into buying.”

“The strip club? What’s it called, Lucky Tails?” he asks.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” I say, smiling.

“Fuck, how many strip clubs can a man own?”

8

Lily

Dropping the kids off for school is a surreal experience, and really drives home the point that I no longer have any control of my or my children’s lives.

Since I can’t open the back doors from the inside of the black sedan, I have to wait for Peter to open them for us like he’s some kind of fancy chauffeur.

It’d be more fitting if he was dressed up as a prison warden.

We drop off Adam first. There are a few looks as we pull up to the curb and Peter comes around to let us out. This is a nice school but it’s not that nice. We’re upper-middle-class around here, not Wall Street.

Adam is only in kindergarten but he hates being babied so I stay in the car and just watch him until he disappears through the school’s front doors.

Usually he’s in a rush to get inside and meet up with his friends before the first bell, but today he pauses in front of the doors and glances back, his little face pinched in concern. It makes him look so much older.

I hate it.

I know he knows something is going on, and he’s too smart not to figure this out on his own eventually. If I can’t get us out of this mess today, I don’t know what I’m going to tell him.

How do I protect him from this?

I wave from within the car but I’m not sure he can see me. Eventually, one of his friends comes up and slaps him on the back, drawing his attention away. I release a little sigh of relief as they walk into school together. At least in there I know he’s safe.

Evelyn, on the other hand, is only four and I have to walk her up to the doors of her preschool.

I feel every eye of the mommy clique turn on us as we pull up.

Peter opens the door for Evelyn and me. I step out and some of the mommies are gasping. Yeah, I look like a hot mess so I just ignore all the stares and rush her inside. I help her hang up her coat and put her lunch box away.

After hugging her goodbye, I press a kiss to the top of her head and tell her to have a good day.

She hugs me back and tells me cheerfully, “You too, mommy.” Before turning around and skipping off to play with the toys.

Peter is waiting for me when I walk back out. Standing in front of the back door, his eyes narrow at me and he crosses his arms over his chest as I eye the group of mommies standing near the entrance.

I could walk up to them, join in the conversation. Let them question me about the car and driver. Maybe drop a few hints…

No, no, it wouldn’t be right to drag anyone else into this mess. Besides, who’s going to believe me? I’m not sure I’d believe myself.

With a sigh of resignation, I lift my chin into the air and walk back to the car, climbing in. Peter shuts the door behind me and without my children with me the sound is so much more ominous.

Silently, he drives me back to my house and there’s already a moving truck parked in the driveway.

Shit.

Again, I have to wait for Peter to open my door, and he follows close on my heels as I walk up to my house. All the doors are open, letting all the heat out, and there’s another beefy guy in a suit hanging out in my kitchen.

“James,” Peter rumbles and nods his head at the man.