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I clasp her face in my palms, tilting her head back so she can look at me.
My Zoey is still there.
In her green eyes, I see the woman I’ve been fantasizing about for over a year now.
But seeing her dressed like this, like the little girl I tried so hard to protect back in the day, almost makes me feel as if I’m right back in that house, facing my worst nightmares all over again. The two versions of Zoey have somehow collided in my head, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.
This is so fucked up.
“Hey, hey,” she says, scrambling up to sit on my lap. “It’s me. It’s just me.”
“Little doe,” I choke out, pressing my temple to hers and holding her a bit too tightly.
Zoey doesn’t protest, letting me hold her close just so I can smell her scent long enough to remind me that I’m not that scared little boy anymore. No one can hurt me like that again, and I’m not powerless to protect her against the monsters that roam the Earth. I’m a grown man whose kill count is so high that there was no use in keeping count anymore.
I also remind myself that she’s safe, but now she wants to go back into the lion’s den.
For me.
“I can’t let you do this,” I finally utter, my voice shaking.
Ever so gently, she pulls my chin up and kisses me softly, lovingly, earnestly—everything we’re not.
“Look at me, Gray,” she orders, and like a fool who can’t deny her, I do just that. “I’ll be fine. You’ll be there with me all the way. Nothing will happen to me. I promise. I can handle myself.”
I start to shake my head, but she keeps me from moving an inch.
“Answer me this,” she murmurs patiently. “Will you let anyone hurt me?”
“I’d kill every last motherfucker who tried,” I sneer on a loud growl.
“Then that’s good enough for me. It should be good enough for you too. This isn’t about us, Gray. This is about saving innocent kids who can’t defend themselves. If we don’t do something about this now, then we will regret it forever. After I read that file, there was no way I would let you do this on your own. I need to do this too. For those kids.”
“I’m not doing this for them,” I mutter, but it ends like a question.
“Then who are you doing it for? And don’t tell me it’s because of the money, or I’m going to lose a lot of respect for you,” she presses softly.
I’m doing it for us. For you and me.
For the two kids we were and the ones we could have become if it wasn’t for that place.
“Gray?”
Instead of answering her, I push her off my lap and get up.
“Where are you going?” she calls from behind me.
“I need a drink.”
“It’s eight in the morning,” she accuses, never leaving my side.
“Still need one.”
Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything else when I grab the whiskey bottle from my kitchen counter and take a good long drink of it. She lets me take a few more swigs in silence before opening that beautiful mouth of hers.
“Can you tell me why you’re acting this way? It’s so unlike you.”
“And you’re such an expert on me? Is that what you’re saying?” I scoff between gulps.
