"No, he doesn't," she snapped at him.
"He's a grown man who knows what he's doing," Elias said. He had a voice like a DJ's, smooth and deep. She hated it. Hated him. "Move out of the way."
"Not in this lifetime, you piece of shit."
But Noah put her on her feet, still holding her firmly, and moved her out from between them. "No," Gen resisted him. "Noah."
"This is my choice, Gen."
The words tore through the rage, ripped into her heart. No. They were past this, weren't they? She couldn't accept this, couldn't allow it to destroy every hopeful thought she'd had about their progress together, the three of them, since Gatlinburg. Lyda wouldn't take less than all of him. She couldn't. It didn't matter what she said about Noah and crossed wires. Gen knew her enough now, knew it would eventually break the link that held Noah to them. And that link was vital to all of them.
"It's a stupid choice." She put her hands on his face. "Why can't you see this isn't love? I love you. Lyda loves you. Yeah, she might not have said it, but in the way she acts toward you, treats you... Goddamn it, she loves you. And so do I. I won't stand by and let someone take advantage of you, hurt you like this. Don't you understand that?"
He tried to move her again. She dug in her heels, gripped his arms to hold him. He'd have to drag her. She clung to rage, because otherwise she'd have to bear the horrible truth that the past few weeks had been a false happiness. The unresolved issue was right here, ignored but never gone, patiently waiting to ambush them all. The wall was still behind his eyes, never gone, just obscured by her idealism, which was once again leading her to heartbreak. Don't do this to me. To us. To Lyda.
"Can you not understand that you owe it to people who truly love you to love them back? To choose them? There's no greater gift you can give us, than to lay yourself all out there for that one...or two...specific people, and let them know that your heart and soul is unconditionally theirs. Not just any asshole who comes along." She was poking a stick right into that rage-trigger, but she didn't care. The alternative was unthinkable.
"You just said it," he said, his chin set, gaze dispassionate. "My choice. Please stand aside, Gen. If you have any regard for me, step aside."
She looked toward the porch. Lyda stood there, leaning on the cane. She had that locked expression Gen knew too well. It cut her heart to ribbons.
"Come here, Gen," Lyda said, holding out a hand. "Come to me."
"No." It was a broken plea. It became even more excruciating when she saw the strain around Lyda's tight mouth, the terrible knowledge in her eyes. There is a wire crossed in his mind... Those goddamn, fucking crossed wires.
"Fine. Fine." She thrust away from Noah, turned on him. "You'd sacrifice your life for us, but you won't fucking choose us. You'd break our hearts rather than do that. That's worse than letting us die, Noah. But if that's what your fucked-up brain says to do, then go with him. Don't wait for Lyda to let you go, because if she does let you go, it's because you forced her to let you go. She knows she doesn't deserve to be treated like this by you. Neither of us do."
He was flinching as if she was hitting him with the shovel now, but she wouldn't stop. She had two people in her life to protect, one at her back and one at her front. The one at her front needed to hear the truth of it, even if it never sank into his broken mind. The one behind her might deny ever needing Gen's defense, but Gen had been inside Lyda deeply enough now to know there were parts of their formidable Mistress that were as capable of being hurt and destroyed as anyone else. Especially when she opened herself to love, as she had.
"If he beats you, kills you, that won't be the real tragedy, Noah. It's that he'll eat your soul, because he doesn't really know what it means to love you. To accept you as who you are. You deserve that, you're smarter than this. I spent years of my life figuring it out, years I'll never get back."
She stepped up to him. She knew his body well enough to jerk the shirt up and reach behind him to find it without searching. Her hand landed on that scar, the one that had bifurcated Yours and unconditionally, and erased the "un". "Love can be given unconditionally, but the recipient should never accept it that way. They should spend their lives working for it, because that kind of love deserves to be earned. It has to be. You don't value what you don't have to earn, even if it's a gift."
"Gen." Lyda's voice was quiet, firm. "Come here. Be with me."
Gen stared up into Noah's face. He wasn't looking at her. He was looking at Elias. Despairing, she looked over her shoulder. Elias was staring at him, absorbed in Noah's response. Neither one of them was aware of her anymore. She had no idea who that made her want to hit with the shovel more, Noah or Elias.
Making her feet move was like dragging concrete blocks across the grass, but her heart was the heaviest load of all. She looked toward the only solace capable of keeping her from crumpling. Though Lyda's face was as smooth and dispassionate as it always was in such moments, that mask was no longer opaque to Gen. Beneath it, she saw Lyda's understanding, her compassion...the suffering they shared.
Lyda was an island, yes. A strong, remarkable island reserved in expressing her emotions, but she had them. She was just a different language to learn, as Noah was a different language, as Chloe and Marguerite were different languages. And yet all of those languages had a word for love, for tears, for loss, disappointment and pain.
She mounted the stairs. She wanted the men to go. She didn't want to see what Elias did next or worse, Noah. But she wasn't to be given that reprieve.
"Again," Noah said.
She turned to see he now stood where Gen had stood, where he'd stood before Elias had hit him in the face that first time. Elias arched a brow. "Penance?"
Noah said nothing. Elias landed another direct punch in his face and Noah went down again. She saw the spurt of blood from his mouth as he fell to one knee.
Lyda gripped Gen's arm, held her in place when Gen surged forward. She used enough pressure to push Gen down onto the top stair. "Stop this," Gen begged her. She gripped Lyda's leg, hard. "Call the police. Tell Elias to leave. Please."
Lyda leaned over enough to keep a firm hand on her shoulder. Though she assumed Lyda had heard her, her Mistress kept her attention locked on Noah. When Gen shifted her gaze back toward Noah, she saw he looked toward Lyda when he got up, before he turned back to Elias. Noah spat blood on the ground.
"Again."
Gen bit back a scream of frustration. Lyda sank down in a porch chair, which allowed her hand to stay on Gen's shoulder, holding tight, fingers tangled in Gen's T-shirt collar.
Elias gave him a narrow look. "That's starting to sound like an order, Noah."