Page 116 of Only for Him
I lean forward, just enough for her to feel the weight behind my next words. “You can’t promise me their loyalty. If you try to, it’ll be a lie. We’re well past lying to each other.”
The air between us crackles, each word straining against the current of our conversation. Something flashes in her eyes. Not fear. I know what fear looks like on her: I know it intimately, the shape of it, the taste. This is something else.
Guilt? Doubt?
“Do you trust my judgement or not?” Giselle says, laying her fork down like a line in the sand.
Fuck.That’sthe question, isn’t it? The one Rosa keeps asking each time she looks at me and the one keeping me up at night.
I shouldn’t, because trusting the wrong person is a thousand times worse than not trusting the right person.
But I clearly fucking do. I trust her enough to give her a glimpse of my past. I’ve trusted her with my fingerprints. I’ve trusted her not to scream when cornered. I’ve even trusted her to accompany me on a mission.
I’m even trusting her now to keep her end of the bargain and stay here, with me, rather than running off as soon as my back is turned.
I’m about to respond that it’s not that simple when her expression suddenly fractures, throwing me off guard.
Whatever’s happening in her thoughts, it’s hurting her.
It’s enough to stoke something else: protectiveness. The need to eradicate anything that causes her suffering, even her own mind.
Because seeing her like this?
I feel like I’m being fucking tortured.
I want to reshape her into something that cannot be hurt, because I don’t know when it happened, but at some point her pain became mine.
Unlike my own pain, which I’ve forced into submission,herpain is venom in my veins. It stirs and tears and howls as it courses through me.
“What’s wrong?” I lean in closer, compelled to push her. But I don’t have to.
She wants to walk into my fold. Her eyes are plaintive as they surrender to me in some new, devastating way.
“You’re right,” she whispers. “We’re past lying to each other. So I’ll be honest with you: the law has never been able to offer me what you have.”
Shit.
Hearing her admit that is fuckingeverything.
All the hollow places inside me temporarily fill with light. It’s uncomfortable and embarrassing and I don’t deserve it.
“I know that, little viper,” I murmur, hungry for more. “But I want to hear it from you. What is it that you want? What is it that you know only I can give you?”
Her gaze drops to her plate, candlelight catching whatever turmoil brews inside her. I want to drink every cracked edge she gives me.
“Vengeance,” she says, quiet, like she’s still hoping to keep it secret from herself.
I’ve known that since the start.
But for her to finally say it aloud like this?
It feels like a prayer. A-fucking-men.
And Iwillgive her vengeance. I will give her everything she’s ever asked for, and some things she doesn’t yet know she needs.
Like the gift I’ve been holding in my jacket pocket, beside my heart.
She’s earned them.
