Page 64 of Can't Stop Watching
"I won't if you don't want me to." He meets my eyes directly. "Your call. But the offer stands."
The most fucked-up part? I'm actually considering it. For a split second, I imagine Mr. Colton experiencing even a fraction of the fear he put me through. The humiliation. The helplessness. My stomach twists with a savage satisfaction that scares me.
"I can see you thinking about it," Dane says softly. "It's okay to want him to suffer, Lila."
I pull my hand away. "No, it's not. That makes me just like him."
"Bullshit." Dane's voice is sharp now. "Wanting your abuser to face consequences doesn't make you anything like him. It only means you want justice."
"And what would it make you?" I challenge. "Some vigilante who beats up people for revenge?"
His jaw tightens. "I've done worse for less noble reasons."
That stops me cold. The casual admission of violence in his past shouldn't surprise me—he was a Marine, for God's sake—but hearing him say it so plainly makes something sink in my chest.
"Look, I don't need you to..." I trail off, unsure how to finish.
"Save you? I know." His expression softens. "You've already saved yourself, Lila. Getting away from there, building a new life, not letting that bastard destroy you—that took more strength than anything I've ever done."
Damn it. How does he do that? Just when I think he's this terrifying badass, he says something so unexpectedly perceptive that it knocks me sideways.
"I just..." He pauses, searching for words. "I want you to know you have options. That you're not alone in this anymore. Not if you let me."
I blink hard against the sudden burn in my eyes. No one's ever offered to fight my demons before—literally or figuratively.
I shake my head. "Um, let's talk about something else."
"Yeah, sure." Relief flashes across Dane's face, like he's grateful I'm not running for the door after his whole vigilante justice offer. Which, honestly? Still processing.
He sets our water glasses on the nightstand and slides back under the sheets. When he opens his arms, I hesitate only a second before tucking myself against him. His body radiatesheat like a furnace, and I find myself melting into him despite my better judgment.
"For what it's worth," he murmurs into my hair, "I do know how to behave in civilized society. Most of the time."
I snort against his chest. "Could've fooled me, Mr. I'll-Break-His-Kneecaps."
His laugh rumbles through me. "I was thinking something more creative, actually."
"Oh my God, stop." I smack his chest lightly, but I'm fighting a smile.
We fall silent, his fingers drawing lazy circles on my shoulder. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat under my ear is hypnotic. When was the last time I felt this... safe? Not just physically, but like I could actually let my guard down?
It should terrify me that the person making me feel this way is a man who casually offered to assault someone for me. Instead, I find myself thinking that for the first time since Mr. Colton, I'm with someone who might actually understand the darkness I carry—and not run from it.
Just as I start drifting off, encased in warmth and post-sex and deep-confession exhaustion, Dane's voice vibrates through his chest beneath my ear.
"Thank you," he says quietly. "For telling me about him. About what happened."
I mumble something incoherent against his skin, consciousness already slipping away.
"I know what it's like," he continues, fingers still tracing patterns on my shoulder. "To carry something like that. To have it shape everything you do, even when you think you've moved past it."
My eyes flutter open. The vulnerability in his tone pulls me back from the edge of sleep.
"There's a lot about me, about my past, that I want to share with you, too" he says. "Things I don't talk about. Ever." His chest rises and falls with a deep breath. "I will. In time. If you want to hear it."
I should say something meaningful, something that matches the weight of his words. Instead, my sleep-drunk brain goes with: "As long as you're not secretly a terrifying alien under all this hotness."
His soft chuckle rumbles against my cheek. "No promises."
