45. Max

Chapter 45

Max

L ooking around the barn shop, I feel a sense of pride in what we have accomplished here. It's rustic, which is putting it on nice terms, but it suits Lily, and I really hope she will love it. Pottering around, I make a few final adjustments - straightening a vase here, fluffing some flowers there. The morning sunlight streams through the windows, casting a warm glow over everything as I leave the barn and cross over to the shed close by. Rooting around, I finally find something that would be great for a sign. I take a couple of the slate tiles, leftover from when we had to get the roof fixed a couple of years ago, along with some paint and brushes and carry it back to the barn. Laying them out on the picnic table outside that has been here since we moved in. It's a little worn and weathered, but it adds to the charm. Popping open the paint, I give it a quick stir with a stick, and I carefully start painting ‘Forget Me Knot' on the slate in flowing script. My handwriting isn't the neatest. Mum always jokes I should've been a doctor, but I'm pleased with how it's turning out. As I work, I smile, imagining Lily's reaction when she sees everything we've done.

Just as I'm finishing up the admittedly very basic flower sketch in the corner, I hear the crunch of gravel under tyres. Looking up, I see Sam pulling in.

"Nice timing," I call out as he parks and hops out. "I've just finished the new shop sign. You can help me hang it."

Sam jogs over, eyeing my handiwork. "Not bad, Max. Didn't know you had it in you to be artsy."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Knightley."

He chuckles, clapping me on the back. "Well, come on then. Let's get this sign up before our Sleeping Beauty wakes."

Together, we hang the slate signs above the barn door.

Sam and I step back to admire the newly hung sign. It's not professional by any means, but there's a certain charm to its handmade quality that I think suits Lily perfectly.

"Not bad," Sam nods approvingly. "Though I think we should get her a proper sign made up eventually. Something more permanent."

"This will do for now. Did you make sure the notice was clearly visible at the shop?"

"Yep," Sam confirms. "Left a big sign on the door explaining the move and new location."

We head back to the house, trying to be as quiet as possible as we go to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Sam opens the fridge, pulling out some eggs and bacon. "Might as well cook breakfast while we wait for the lovebirds to wake up."

I nod, grabbing a frying pan from the cupboard. As Sam starts cracking eggs into a bowl, I suddenly get a bolt of anxiety that Lily will hate us for this.

"Do you think we did the right thing?" I ask quietly. "Moving everything without asking her first?"

Sam pauses, considering. "I think so. Those alphas showing up changed things. We need to keep her safe."

"I know," I sigh. "I just hope she sees it that way too."

"She will," Sam says confidently, turning back to the cooker. "Lily is smart. She'll understand we're doing this out of love."

As the bacon sizzles, filling the kitchen with its mouthwatering aroma, a moment later, Lily appears in the doorway, wearing one of Jack's tees, her hair adorably mussed from sleep.

"Morning, beautiful," Sam greets her with a warm smile.

"Morning. Something smells good."

I cross over to her, pulling her into a gentle hug and kissing the top of her head. "How did you sleep?"

"Like a rock," she admits, leaning into me. "It was the crash from the adrenaline." She glances around and swallows, trying not to show us her fear.

"You're safe," I murmur, tightening my hold on her. "I'm going to get Clive to take a look into these Trials. These contracts are dodgy at best. If we can get a class action going, we can hopefully shut it down."

She gulps. "What does that mean?"

"A class action? It means we get together a group of people who have been harmed, traumatised, or otherwise disadvantaged by the Trials. They work barely inside of what is legal if that. We can do this."

"Sounds expensive. I don't have any money?—"

"Don't worry about that. Clive will dig around pro bono, and if he thinks he can win, he will take it on and just take a cut. Whoever is truly behind this show needs taking out."

"If it were that easy, why hasn't someone already done it?" she whispers.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "It's not easy, but it's not impossible either. Think of it like organised crime. A mafia of sorts. People know about it, but they don't talk about it."

"Like Fight Club," Sam states as if Lily has any idea what that even is.

Judging by her consumed expression, she doesn't. "Fight Club?"

"Film with Edward Norton and Brad Pitt. It's awesome. We can watch it later. I have it on DVD."

"Okay," she whispers, still looking nervous and unconvinced. "I hope you're right. I hate that omegas have to go through what I did and worse. I was a lucky one."

"We'll make sure of it," Sam says firmly, flipping the bacon. "Now, how about some breakfast? You must be starving, seeing as we skipped dinner." He gives her a lascivious wink.

A blush creeps up Lily's cheeks, but she grins and pushes her fears aside. "Famished, actually."

As we sit down to eat, I can see Lily's mind working, a slight frown creasing her forehead.

"Everything okay?" I ask gently.

She starts as if pulled from deep thought. "Oh, yes. I was thinking about the shop. I should probably head back soon to open up and maybe pack up some more of my things."

Sam and I exchange a quick glance, relieved to see Jack rush in like his arse is on fire so that we can reveal our big surprise.

"Hey," he says, looking around the table. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing yet," I murmur but look back at Lily. "There is something we need to talk to you about regarding the shop, though."

Lily's eyes widen slightly, fear flashing across her face. "What is it? Is everything okay? Did those alphas trash it?"

"What? No," I say, shaking my head. "No, the shop is fine. It's just... well, after what happened?—"

"Let's just show you," Jack says, taking her hand and helping her to her feet.

"Show me what?"

"Outside."

"I'm not dressed."

"No one will see you," I chuckle, gazing down at the expanse of her bare legs, her feet in fluffy slippers.

"Come."

"You're scaring me," she says as we lead her out the back door and into the paved yard that leads around to the barn.