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“He took that from me,” she sobs, the words choked. They fucking destroy me. “He made me feel like I was worthless. Like my voice didn’t matter. But it does. I didn’t want that, but he didn’t care. I want you, and now—now you don’t care. I just—” She lets out another frustrated sound, her hands balling into tight fists. Her head tips back, her eyes shutting. “I just want to make my own damn decisions!”
Chest heaving, she turns to look at me. And it’s at this moment I realize the girl I met all those years ago is gone.
Little Evelyn Meyer is gone.
The world was unfair to her. It chewed her up and spit her out like she was nothing. But she is something. She’s someone. She didn’t deserve all that heartache at such a young age. She didn’t deserve to take hit after hit. She shouldn’t have ever had to learn how to be strong, how to keep getting up when life knocked her down.
But she did.
And through it all, she kept a smile on her face. I should’ve known what happened a month ago in her bedroom wouldn’t keep her down for long. I should’ve known that she’d get right back up, dust herself off, and keep going.
Keep living.
Keep dreaming.
But she’s not the same, and I can’t pretend like she is.
She has demons to fight, just like I do. It’s why we always worked so well together. She’s not broken or fragile. She’s the strongest person I’ve ever known, and it’s an insult to treat her differently.
I’ve always wanted to love her, to protect her, to make her my world. But everything just got so fucked up along the way. When we were kids and she was a toddler, she was perfect. And when she came to our home at ten, she was perfect. And when I left when she was sixteen…she was perfect.
And now, with every trial and tribulation she’s been forced to experience, she’s still fucking perfect.
In some ways, she’s still the girl I fell in love with when I didn’t understand what love meant. But she’s different. She’s grown. She’s become a woman. She’s endured things at the hands of the Devil himself and has come out the other side like a fucking warrior.
I’ve never been prouder of her than I am right now. Because this is a far cry from the hollow shell she’s been. She’s fighting for what she wants, and what she wants is me.
With a deep breath, a step closer, invading her space. I’m still wary of touching her, of scaring her. I don’t want her to retreat into memories of the past. I don’t want her to think about the way it felt to have him touch her.
But I have to believe she’s telling me the truth when she says she wants me to kiss her. Touch her.
Fuck her.
Slowly, my hand reaches up and my thumb trails along her jaw. I lightly grip her chin and tilt her head back. Her eyes are wide, but not with fear.
Just with lust.
With need.
I know they mirror my own as I lower my mouth to hers, skimming my lips across her soft ones. My hands are shaking, my heart is slamming against my ribs, my stomach is twisting with nerves. God, I want her so fucking badly.
She whimpers, and the sound goes straight to my cock.
“You want to make the decisions?” I murmur. I feel her throat bob as she swallows thickly.
“I want you to tell me what to do,” she breathes. My grin is slow as it spreads across my face. Shaking my head, I nip at her bottom lip.
“That’s not how it works, Goldie. You know what you have to do,” I rasp. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you the damn moon on a string. All you have to do is say it.”
She inhales sharply at the words. But they’re true. I’d do anything for her. I’d lie, steal, and cheat for her. I’d burn, drown, or die for her.
If she told me to swim to the bottom of the ocean, I would. If she told me to climb the tallest mountain, I would. And if she told me to jump from a cliff and see if I could fly, knowing I wouldn’t survive, I’d still do it.
I’d do anything to get to her. To make her happy. To give her what she wants.
I’d raze the world to the fucking ground for her. I’d kill everyone to keep her safe.
And when I see the man who gave me life again, I will kill him. The day he dies, it’ll be by hand.
