“I had good reason,” she said, her hackles rising to the challenge. Her mouth tensed against mine, denying me the entry she thought I wanted. I just wanted to breathe her air, to draw her into my lungs and hold her there for as long as possible.
“There is never a reason to run from me. Iama monster, Isa.I always will be, but I’myourmonster.” I paused, letting the truth of those words calm the harshness of Isa’s mouth before I dragged my lips against hers lightly again. “What I can tell you is that I lived most of my life in a way that my mother’s death felt pointless. What exactly did she die to protect? Another murderer? But one way or another, she led me to you.”
She shook her head, denying the pretty words, but I needed to hold on to them. To grasp some kind of meaning to my mother’s death. It made her murder easier, took away some of the lingering pain that came with her memory. “As sweet as the thought may be, that isn’t possible.”
"My father tried to drown you on the anniversary of my mother's death," I laughed lightly. "I think we are far beyond the notions of impossibility. She knew you needed me, and that I needed you. She brought us together."
"Careful, you might sound like a religious zealot if you keep discussing notions like that," she teased, letting me draw her into my arms. Her head touched my chest, resting against the brands that marked my skin from the way of life so ingrained in me that I didn’t think I would ever be able to separate. Her touch brushed against the edges of the wounds that marked my skin as hers, her claim on my flesh undeniable and total.
"I don't need God when I have you,mi reina. You're my religion," I murmured softly, kissing the top of her head. She didn’t respond, only the slight hitch in her breath confirming that she’d heard me. I held her as she drifted off to sleep, resisting the urge to run my fingers over the painful name scrawled into her flesh long after she’d fallen into slumber.
The answers we needed would come at a cost. I wouldn’t let her be the one to pay it.