He’s not wrong. And the truth and his vow crack my chest open, leaving me exposed.
I shake my head, staring at the floor, my soul intent on sharing a fear I’d never willingly approve. “You’re going to hurt me.”
In a flash, he’s stooping before me, his hands on my thighs. “First of all, it took every ounce of willpower I had not to touch you because you are and have always been the most stunning creature I’ve ever seen. But you’re sick, and I need you to know that this is more.”
He flings his hand toward the boxes. “And you know what I think about your goddamn lists? I think you focus on all the small shit so you don’t have to focus on how rough things are with your mom and sisters, or how you killed someone, or how you have a whole family of people at La Lune Noire from theseedy underworldwho would do any-fucking-thing for you.”
“Don’t psychoanalyze me.” I don’t even know why I say that when he’s right on the nose.
“I’m not psychoanalyzing you, and I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve never fought for anyone like this, but I already know you’re my person—the one I’ll fight for until my dying breath. Today, when I thought …” He clears his throat. “I went to the hospital because Rena was in labor, and—”
“Rena’s in labor?” I gasp.
“It stopped.” He pauses, and something like nervousness shadows his features. “But I was surrounded by my family, and I wanted you there, needed you there.”
I grapple with that for what feels like forever before I formulate my response. “Rena’s in labor, you have the Fourth of July tomorrow and the employee festival the day after that, and you’re here?”
“Of course.”
Of course? He really is trying to break me.
“I’m not pressuring you, Tess, or expecting anything in return right now. I just thought I should be clear about where I was at. Makarov gets here in a couple of days—”
“Makarov is coming here?” It’s impossible to mask the terror in that question.
“I’m handling it, and I’m moving you into La Lune Noire. You’re safe, but I know things are hard with your family. I didn’t want you to doubt any of what I said the other night.” He leans forward and presses his mouth to mine with the sweetest of kisses before he rises, but there’s a heaviness cloaking him. “It’s okay. Just rest and munch on a few crackers while I get you some heartier food.”
Before he’s out of the room, he peers back over his shoulder. “Do you ever scream?” When my forehead creases, he elaborates. “When you’re angry, do you ever just scream?”
What an odd question.
“I live in an apartment, work in a resort that caters to the trigger-happy, and have a family who already doubts my sanity, so no. I veer toward quiet fury.”
A muffled guffaw wafts from him as his gaze floats between that box with my lists and me. “You’ve mastered that. But you should try screaming. It’s like dancing. Or sex.” He smirks with that lazy charm of his before subduing it. “Sometimes, you need to release that fury from your body as much as from your mind.”
“I’ll remember that,” I whisper, touched by how invested he is in my well-being.
“I’ll make sure you do.” He twists farther to face me, his gaze so intense that it needles my flesh and so much more. “My world is as much another’s dream as it is their nightmare. But I wouldn’t change a thing. I’m drawn to that duality. There is no part of you that doesn’t captivate me. You don’t have to hide your darkness or your dreams, Tess. Both will have a home with me.”
With that soul-stirring pledge, he goes on his way, but he’s barely beyond the doorway when it all slams into me. Everything he said. Everything that had happened these last few weeks. Years. Everything that was right in front of me at my parents’ that day, when I was pleading with Violet.
“I showed up for you that night. I have always shown up for all of you. But who shows up for me, Violet? You know, you’ve all treated me like a heathen for years, and I have never once asked that. I’ve been here, welcome or not. But who shows up for me?”
“Obviously, he does, so go home, Tessa.”
Violet meant that as an insult, but she was so right.
His words are beautiful, but his actions are breathtaking.
“Maddox?”
He peeks his head back in. “Yeah?”
“You want to know why you were on my list every month?”
He nods, wandering back into my room.
“Because I couldn’tnotthink about you. No matter what, you were always on my mind, and I …” I stand and make my way over to him, but I keep my hands to myself. “It didn’t make sense to write you down. Those lists are for petty things that irritate me, to let them go. Not big ones. And since I thought everything you did was for control, which is a sore spot with me, you should’ve been one of the biggest. But I wrote your name down every month to force myself to remember why I shouldn’t think of you beyond that because it was a struggle not to. Because I’d always thought about you, long before I called you that night.”
