Page 82 of Venomous Throne

Isabella tore her gaze away from the scene and met mine. “Ask what?”

“You wanted to talk.” I adjusted myself, sitting cross-legged beside her. “That means you have questions.”

I hoped I had the answers.

That pretty pink tongue darted out, wetting her lips. My blood heated in response.

“I just…wanted to clear something up,” she began.

I waited, knowing what was coming.

“I’m not a normal girl.” She laughed roughly, gesturing to the lawn below as if in explanation. “If you haven’t figured that out, you’ve got to be wondering about my situation.”

“I know what you are, Isabella.”

She stilled. “You do?”

I nodded. “And I’m not a normal man.”

She laughed again, and this time it was free from whatever tension laced her voice. “No, you most definitely aren’t.” Her smile grew. “But that’s why I like you.”

She liked me.

This adorable, brilliant creature who ran the streets better than any man liked me.

“But Jaxon…what are we?” Isabella held her breath, waiting for an answer I couldn’t even begin to know how to give.

“We’re like two ships, crossing in the night,” I offered.

“I thought so,” she sighed.

“Is that not good enough for you?”I can try. For you, I can try to be more.

“You said you can’t be my hero. You said you can’t be my anything.” She scooped her bent knees up farther, resting her cheek against them. “And then you came back. Are you…staying?”

Bloody hell, that tone. Filled with hope and anticipation. It had me giving an answer I didn’t understand, but I promised to fulfill. “Yes. As long as you want me.”

Her eyelids fluttered closed in relief. “That’s perfect.”

“You have to know that I will always protect you,” I insisted. “Always, from any threat. Even from myself.”

Isabella’s eyes popped open. She pierced me with that dark brown gaze. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not a good man,” I said simply.

She didn’t ask for an explanation. “Fair. But I don’t think I need a good man. I need therightone. And the more you’re around, the more I think that’s you.”

If only she were right about that.

A car slowed on the street, snagging my attention. It paused at the gate. From this angle, it was impossible to see who was inside.

“Merda,” Isabella hissed. “I have to go.”

I held out my hands, relishing the warmth of her touch. She scooted to the edge, flipped onto her stomach, and slid down. When her feet hit the overhang, she squeezed my fingers.

“Don’t be a stranger,” she said with a smile. “I do want you around. More if we can manage it. Just…things are difficult right now.”

“I understand.” I did.