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“Memories can be tragic things,” I tell her.
“I suppose you remember those moments as well,” she says quietly. It’s not a question, merely an observation.
“Always, Caia.”
“Drake.” She tastes the word. The tone of her voice and the way she utters my name once again has need racing through me like I’ve never felt before. “Where is your father?”
“Dead.”
A gasp falls from her lips at my answer. I wait for her to question me, to ask if I was the one who dealt the fatal blow, but she doesn’t. What she does say shocks me.
“I wish I was the one to do it.”
The road opens up onto a dirt track, the conversation halting as I slow to a crawl as we head up the bumpy path to a house hidden by forest. River left the lights on, so when we pass the smattering of trees, we come to a double-story, wooden cabin, which looks like it should be featured on America’s Most Beautiful Homes or some shit. It’s illuminated by the golden bulbs, giving it a feel of home and safety.
Her words play on a loop in my mind. She wants to kill. I don’t blame her for that because it’s something I’ve wanted as well. “If that’s something you feel you need for closure, I can offer you a way to do it. Obviously not my father, but . . .” I turn to her as soon as I kill the engine. “Others like him.”
“Really?”
I nod but offer nothing more. Not tonight. She needs rest.
“Is this the safe house?” The wonder and awe in her voice makes me smile. It’s like watching a bird take flight. The fear and anxiety that once tightened her expression is now curved into a beautiful smile.
“It is. You’ll stay here for a few days until we can ensure your documents are in order. You’ll receive a new passport and driver’s license.”
“I . . . I can’t drive.” Her voice fills with sadness.
“I’ll teach you,” I promise. My hand reaches for her, and I wait for the flinch, only this time, it doesn’t come. We sit there for a moment. Waiting. Silent.
She sighs, turns, and pushes the car door open. I follow suit. Rounding the front, I reach her, and for some inexplicable reason, pull her into my arms. It’s been a long while since I’ve held a woman. Much less cared enough to offer her driving lessons.
Her body shudders in my hold, and I tighten it. As if I can keep her from drowning in the sea of emotion I know is trying to swallow her whole.
I remember the time I broke down. How vulnerable I felt. I recall the moment my mind finally completely shattered, and I didn’t know which way was up. I was sinking in a turbulent ocean, flailing around until I found my solace in blood. In death. Taking the lives of those who wronged me.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell her, the promise clear in my voice. No matter what she’s been through, I’ll ensure she walks out the other side.
“Why did you save me?” Her question turns me cold. I don’t want to talk about it. To tell her what I’ve seen and why I allowed her to kill Thanos. “I’m not an innocent. I’ve seen things many girls wouldn’t have survived. Unless you’re too afraid to confess,” she taunts. Her words lighten the mood, but not by much. She doesn’t know it yet, but nothing can ever be light between us. However, her teasing only serves to make me want to show her exactly what I can do to her.
“Little raven, be careful of what you say to me,” I bite out, my fingers fisting, tensing, and releasing. There’s a fire that suddenly blazes in her eyes at my threat.
“Oh?” she quips. The playful tone of her voice makes me smile. Shaking my head in awe at this woman, I take her in. After everything she’s been through, she’s still smiling.
“I’m not any different than the last time you saw me,” I tell her.
“And you forget, I’m the one who has been through similar horrors you have,” she tells me. “I’m still here, Drake.”
“I’m not doing this now. You need to get some rest. I need to make sure Thanos’s men aren’t on the hunt for his killers. You’ll stay here because it’s safe and I can keep an eye on you. There’s food downstairs, clothes in the closet, and anything else you need in the bathroom.” When I finish my instructions, I glance at her again, unable to take my eyes off the woman who’s become so much more to me than I’d anticipated.
“Thank you . . . for saving me.” She smiles then. It’s small, but I notice it because I can’t help staring at her, meeting those intense hazel eyes. Even in the darkness, she seems to shine like a strike of lightning through a darkened sky. And that burns me more than anything I’ve ever encountered.
