“Like you are,” I explain, “Like Olivia and Willow. She is. She is because she ismine.”
“Does she know that?” It’s my brother who asks.
“Not yet,” I sigh, stroking back her hair, “But she will.”
“Need I remind you that Dean was shot only a few days ago,” Malakai continues, “This will keep happening. We all heard what Kurtis had to say. Richard has a mark on her and if she’s hiding something, it’ll only come back to bite us all.”
“She has a mark on her!?” Savannah gasps.
“I need you all to fuck off,” I growl from between gritted teeth, “I’ll handle it.”
“You need to tell her,” Killian grips my shoulder, “Maybe if you give her your story, she’ll give you hers.”
I laugh silently. Un -fucking-likely.
I don’t see any of them out, not that they expect me to. What can they expect from a man who has chosen solitude as their main way of living? But since Sloane, since she’s been in my house, looking after my daughter, sealing her presence into the walls and into the fabric that binds my soul, I have found the isolationfar too cold. I’m craving the warmth, but only if it is from her touch.
I continue to stroke her hair as she remains sleeping on the couch until Lily begins to fuss in the swing chair Sav set her in. Leaving Sloane, I go to my daughter, touching her gently on the cheek before I head to the kitchen to ready her bottle and wash my hands.
In all of the chaos, I haven’t once thought of Seline or where she might be. She is of no importance anymore, and there is no way she’ll ever have access to Lily again. I’m not against second chances until the choices that are made put my daughter at risk.
With her bottle ready, I head back to the lounge, but Lily isn’t where I left her. Sloane holds her, cradled in her arms, as she sings a lullaby to her to help soothe her.
“You’re awake,” I stop short.
But she just shrugs simply and looks to the bottle in my hand, “Can I take her to bed tonight?”
She’s still pale, her eyes bloodshot, and I can see the tremor in her body, the very slight quake that belies her fear. “Of course. Are you staying again?”
“You need help.” She turns back to my daughter, so I cross over to her and hand her the bottle. I watch her, trying to figure her out, but the puzzle just isn’t coming together. She sits on the couch and positions Lily, guiding the bottle to her mouth.
“Sloane,” I lower onto the couch beside her, “I need to talk to you.”
“You have questions,” She sighs, “I see them all over your face.”
“I do,” I admit.
“How do I know I can trust you?” She flicks her eyes to me, the color of them so intense right now they look almost neon.
“You don’t,” I force myself to remain still, curling my fingers into my palm so I don’t reach for her. “A truth for a truth.”
“My secrets keep me safe,” She replies.
“I will keep you safe,” I vow to her.
“Too many people have said that to me, and they’ve always let me down.”
“That’s because they aren’t me, Butterfly.”
Her lips tip up at the sides in some kind of soft smile. “A truth for a truth, then.”
There’s a resigned tone to her voice, like she’s exhausted and every word is a physical exertion, tugging her down.
“I’ve never claimed to be a good man, Sloane.” Her eyes lift to mine, a knot forming between her brows. “I’ve done bad things, criminal things that would frighten you if you knew them.” As if the blood is still there, her eyes drop to my hand, where the splatter of blood was. “I continue to do bad things because that iswhoI am. But I would never do bad to you.”
“Who are you really, Dean?”
“I work for an organization that hires mercenaries out to the rich. We own killers, Sloane, release them to the world for money. I have hacked government databases and wiped entire records clean. I can get into anywhere, can be anyone online, and I do that for the men I call family. The basement, it is my base, where I live and breathe.”
