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“Yes?” His deep voice had a rumble to it, like the bass from the speakers in the car. He didn’t even glance at me but seemed to know I was there. Seemed to feel me. Seemed aware of his surroundings at all times—even when he was deep in thought.
I stepped farther into his study, seeing a large desk with a laptop and some papers. There was also a picture of Claire there, a school portrait, probably taken last year. Her hair was a lot shorter in the picture. “How are you?”
He kept his eyes on the window.
“Want me to pick you up an espresso—”
“You take care of my daughter—not me.” He turned in his chair, pulling his eyes off the window and putting them on me. “And I hate that question.”
“Why?”
“Because my answer is always the same.” His wide chest was powerful, covering the entire chair behind him. Each of his pecs was the size of a steering wheel. His greatest strength was his stare—the intensity could move mountains.
“Are you home for the day?”
“Yes.”
I felt the kick in my stomach, the overwhelming relief. “I told Claire I would take her out for ice cream after school if you’d like to join us.”
His stare continued.
“But if you have other things to do—”
“How was she this morning?”
I gave a shrug. “Quiet.”
He dropped his gaze, like a knife had plunged into his heart.
“She’ll be okay, Benton.”
He stared at his desk for a while before his hand rubbed his head, ruffling his hair. “The cut isn’t what kills you. It’s what happens afterward—when you bleed to death or die from an infection. She seemed well, but maybe I just pretended she was for my own sake.”
“I think she is well. It just reminded me…that’s all.”
He looked away. “Every time she sees an angel, she’s going to go through this.”
“That can happen with anything. If you got bit by a dog, you’d be scared of dogs. If you got hit by a car, you’d be scared to drive. It’s just a part of life. Doesn’t mean there’s something deeply wrong with her.”
He kept his eyes on the window.
“I know you’re worried, but she’s strong.”
His eyes flicked back to me.
“Like her father.”
When I finished preparing lunch, he came downstairs and sat at the dining table. Still in just his sweatpants, he never bothered to get dressed—not that I minded. Somehow, his nakedness made me feel more secure because I knew he didn’t need a weapon when he was a weapon himself.
I sat across from him and watched him dig into his food. With his arms on the table, he inhaled his meal, scarfing everything down as if he’d skipped breakfast that morning. His eyes were down most of the time, like I wasn’t even there.
I took my time with my food because I couldn’t just eat however much I wanted and stay trim.
He took a bite and chewed, his eyes lifting to meet my face.
There had never been much activity in my personal life. I worked a lot of nights at the theatre, so I didn’t have a lot of opportunities to go out and meet someone. I hooked up with a couple dancers, but those were short-lived flings. Relationships were rare, and if they did happen, they were short. Never even came close to living with a man. But now I shared my life with the man across from me.
And I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
Even if Forneus weren’t lurking in the shadows, it would be impossible to go back to a normal life as if nothing had happened. I’d probably have to move like Beatrice. Start over somewhere new, somewhere that wouldn’t remind me of all the horrors I’d witnessed. But even if I did that…I would never be okay.
Benton was the only thing that made me feel okay.
Now his eyes didn’t leave my face. “What is it?”
“What is what?”
“I can read your eyes.”
I’d never been with a man in tune with my emotions, who could read my moods and thoughts like he felt them pressed directly against his skin. Was he just good at that sort of thing? Or was it because of what we had together? “I just… I don’t know what I would do without you.” My eyes dropped before I finished talking because I regretted what I said before I even said it. The first time I’d seen him was in the theatre, desperately asking everyone about Claire. He was just a stranger then. It was hard to believe he’d ever been a stranger. Our lives were tied together so tightly that it seemed impossible we’d ever lived separately.
The silence reigned, along with the heaviness.
I kept my eyes on my food, still unable to look up and see his reaction. He was probably annoyed…just like he was with everything else. I had the strength to kill a Malevolent, to stand up to Forneus, to tape those papers on the windows of the church. But it took a lot more strength to raise my chin and meet his gaze.
