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Words failed me. Overwhelmed, I pulled her close and kissed her, trying to say everything I couldn’t put into words.

Thank you. I love you. I’ll always protect you.

After a few more photos and exploration, we made our way toward the Upper West Side. It was nearing lunchtime, so after a quick bite at a small bistro, I led Lilah toward Museum Mile.

The hours passed in a blur of colors, most prominent being the blue of Lilah’s eyes. They were filled with excitement and joy; far more captivating than any of the paintings or sculptures surrounding us. As we made our way over to the Guggenheim, we stopped to watch a street performance. Lilah was smiling as the troupe flipped over each other to a loud beat. I scanned the crowd out of habit when something caught my eye.

Trying to remain calm, I focused on the man standing across the promenade, not watching the performers, but instead focused on Lilah. His eyes shifted, meeting mine, and I froze. Is that Crow? Before I had a chance to really look, he was gone. It couldn’t have been him. The man I saw had short hair, just a dark shadow matching the beard he wore. His nose was crooked, scars marring the left side of his face. It looked nothing like Crow, yet his eyes, for the split second they met mine, looked hauntingly familiar.

As fast as he appeared, he was gone, disappearing into the heaving crowd of people navigating the busy area. Lilah gave a loud yell beside me, clapping as the dancers did their final stunt…A front flip over three of his friends. Looking down at her happy face, her plump lips and flushed cheeks, I shook off any thoughts of Crow.

This was about Lilah, about our relationship. I wasn’t going to let anything ruin it, including myself. The sky started to darken, but both of us were buzzing with adrenaline from the action packed day.

“You hungry, love?” I asked as we strolled the streets nearing the hotel.

“Always,” she said, resting her head on my shoulder. My arm was around her, holding her close to my side, not risking anything getting between us.

“There are a few places around here. What are you in the mood for?” I asked, mentally running through the list of restaurants I had Googled.

“Could we…This is gonna sound silly, but I don’t want anything fancy. I just want a real New York pizza. With garlic knots,” Lilah replied, her face flashing with hesitancy, as if she had said something awful.

“That sounds perfect.” I mimicked her sentiment from the morning. We ducked into a small pizzeria, the smell of garlic and cheese making me salivate. We split a plain pie and garlic knots, giggling and looking through pictures of the day as we ate. Never could I have imagined a moment like this…That I would have a woman like Lilah with me.

No more holding back, no more preparing for disaster. I wasn’t protecting Lilah. I was protecting myself, and it was only hurting us. It was time. I’d lay myself bare and make sure she knew exactly what I was. If she still accepted me, then I’d seal her to me. From now until forever.

Chapter 20

Scythe

The elevator ride up to the room was filled with anticipation. I slid away from Lilah’s body, needing a minute to breathe, gather my thoughts. Confusion and hurt washed over her face at my retreat, and I hated myself. There was a ding, letting us know we made it to our floor, and I grabbed Lilah’s hand, hauling her toward our room. Once inside, I froze after the door closed behind me.

Where do I begin? How do I make her understand…A buzzing in my ears started, and my chest felt tight. Lilah was standing in front of me, looking unsure, but so fucking beautiful. She trusted me, told me about her ex, her childhood. The least I could do was reveal my darkness. Give her one last chance to escape while she was still clean.

“My dad. He wasn’t a good man,” I spit out, the widening of her eyes her only reaction. She nodded slightly, encouraging me to continue.

“He was a liar and a cheat. He beat my mom, beat me—hell, anyone who was smaller than him.” Lilah took a step toward me, gently taking my hand and guiding me to sit on the side of the bed. She sat next to me, her eyes on my face, the full power of her focus making my gut churn.

“Everything he touched turned to shit, or he corrupted it. His dad was no different. Neither were my uncles and cousins. As much as I hated him, I believed him. So I didn’t really try to fight destiny. Just redirect it,” I said, and her eyebrows raised. I cupped her face, memorizing it.

“Fighting…Killing was easy. Doing it for the brothers was even easier. If I could save them from that burden, that was my way of saying fuck you to the old man. Made me feel in control, that I was siphoning out the darkness that grows inside of me in a way I chose.”

“Eliot…” She started to talk, but I interrupted, determined to get through it.

“Before I met you…I had never even tried to be with a woman. Not wanting to be like my dad, not wanting anyone to have that type of control over me or my body.

“And with you…I couldn’t risk it. The idea of tainting you with the blood on my hands. My violence bleeding all over you. I couldn’t bear it,” I explained, the words harder to get out than I cared to admit. Her hand reached out, gently tilting my face so she could see me.

“Have you ever considered that maybe it became a self-fulfilling prophecy? Your father wanted to hurt you. He knew you were a better man than he was. He put that thought in your mind, made you believe you were destined to become a monster. Instead of waiting for it to happen, you embraced it. You became that thing you were afraid of, but not in the way your father meant it.” I frowned, not quite following.

“You kill people. Torture them. You don’t mind doing it, from what I understand, but it’s always for a reason. You’re not beating your helpless wife and child. You’re responding to attacks on the people you love. You’ve become the person who could fight your dad. You became the man you wanted to be at that moment.” How can she look at me like that? How can she stand to be near me after everything I just told her?

“Lilah, I don’t think you understand.” She climbed into my lap, her face above mine, her hair dropping around us.

“Do you expect me to become a drunk housewife whose only contribution to society is my last name? My days spent at useless functions, tolerated by a steady dose of pills and expensive champagne? Should I have stayed with Kyle, taken whatever else he would have meted out, because that’s what my parents did? And what their parents did before them? What they expect me to do?”

At the mention of Kyle’s name, I snapped, my hands going to her hips, gripping her against me.

“Don’t. Don’t say shit like that,” I said, swallowing at the portrait she was painting.