“Youdid not kill those girls,” I say. “And you don’t get to sit here and tell yourself you’re dangerous when all you’ve done since the day we met is protect me.”
It’s too dark to see his expression, but I can hear his breath snag. I gently lift his hand and kiss his palm, right below his thumb.
“I’ve known hands that hurt,” I say, pressing his palm to my face. “I know when someone’s touch is only there to cause damage, but your hands have only ever saved me.”
He doesn’t move at all. I can’t even tell if he’s breathing.
“It makes me so sad you can’t see how incredible you are,” I say. “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”
“Eden…” He sounds embarrassed.
“There are so many things I like about you,” I say. “I like how you take care of every person on the team. I like that you think about everything you say before you say it, because it shows you really mean it. I like how seriously you take this job, how much you care about saving people, and how it’s more than just a job to you. I may not know everything about you, but I want to. The more I learn about you, the more I like you.”
“You can’t mean that,” he says.
“I do,” I say.
“I’m not a good person,” he says, and the words drive through me like a needle in my heart. “I’d kill anyone who tried to hurt my team again.”
“That makes you a good protector,” I say. “You take care of the people you love. Everyone would do that for their family.”
“I can turn my feelings off anytime I want to,” he says.
“But you choose not to,” I say. “That actually speaks more to hownotlike Billy you are, because you continuously choose to feel things.”
“I get so angry at the world,” he says, his voice so quiet I can barely hear him. “Sometimes, I get so mad I want to destroy it all.”
“Me too,” I say, because boy, do I understandthatfeeling. “But being angry doesn’t make you a bad person. You’re allowed to be angry.”
“I’m scared that I can’t feel arousal without someone else being in pain,” he whispers.
I choke on a harsh laugh. “Okay, now you’re sounding ridiculous. If that were true, you would’ve gotten turned on watching me in the glass trial.”
I can tell his mind is turning. I wonder if this is helping at all. It’s easy to hear someone else say positive things about you, but internalizing them is a whole other animal.
“Any violent images your brain comes up with aren’t coming from you,” I say. “Billy forced them onto you. You remember them because that’s all you know.”
He still doesn’t say anything. I consider my next words. Nico is pragmatic. I should put this in measurable terms.
“I wasn’t in pain when we kissed in the kitchen, and you said you wanted me then,” I say.
“So much,” Nico affirms.
But his voice is still distant. I can’t tell if he agrees with me, so I need to find another way to show him.
I shift closer until I’m sitting on his upper thighs, and I reach my arm around his neck and pull myself closer to him until our chests are flush.
“Eden, what are you doing?” he asks, sounding urgent and frantic.
I give him a tiny smile, which I’m hoping comes through in my voice. “I’m cold.”
CHAPTER 45
Morrow’s weakness was his certainty. He believed so completely in his understanding of human nature that he never considered he might be wrong. He saw what he expected to see and missed everything else.
—Case notes from inside Alan Morrow’s file, written by Donald Dellman
Nico doesn’t understand. I scoot closer until my chest presses against his. I take his arms carefully and guide them around me, one at a time, like I’m showing him it’s okay to touch me. His hands settle against my back, fingers splaying wide. I can feel the strength of him as he holds me, feel the way his whole body is wound tight like he’s holding himself back from crushing me against him.
