“See,” she whispered. “Nothing’s free with you.”
“I saved your life because I want you,” I said. “You think that makes me a monster? Fine, I’m a fucking monster then. I want you, Irene. I’m not going to pretend otherwise.”
She met my gaze and held it. I couldn’t read the look in her eyes—anger, pity, fear, or some combination of all three. She didn’t move, and the moment stretched as a bird flitted from a nearby tree and a fat bumblebee buzzed around the ceiling of the porch. Her lips opened, her mouth opened like she wanted to speak, then she shook her head slightly and looked down.
“You’re not a monster,” she said. “Not for wanting me, anyway.”
“I never stopped,” I said. “Even when you disappeared, I looked for you. I never gave up.”
“I know,” she said. “I wish you had.”
“You can act like this is something it’s not. You can lie to yourself and to me if you’d like, but I felt what you want the other night, Irene. I know how badly you want me, too.”
“So what?” she asked, clenching her jaw again defiantly. “So the hell what if I want to fuck you?”
I kissed her hard then, pulling her hair and tugging her body against mine. She moaned into that kiss, groaned as her tongue touched my own and her taste flooded my mouth. I pulled her back and held her there for a moment, feeling her body, the way she trembled, the heat rolling off her skin. I tilted my head, looking deep into her eyes.
“It’s not just that,” I said, “and you damn well know it.” I let her go then and left her. She didn’t follow me as I went back into the house. I closed the door behind me and flinched when a shadow detached itself from the wall right next to the front window.
Sasha grinned at me. “That’s how it is, huh? You really love that girl, don’t you?”
I made a face. “Go listen in on someone else.”
“They’re boring.” She followed me as I walked down the hall. “Come on, you love her, don’t you?”
I felt it in my chest, that longing for Irene. It was an old, familiar feeling, one I’d had since the day we met all those years ago when we were both young and broken and fucked up, and it never left me, not for a second. If that was love, then I loved her. If that was something more, then it was something more, and I couldn’t put it into words.
“Something like that,” I said.
“She loves you too, you know,” Sasha said.
I glanced at her. “She said that?”
“Woman’s intuition.” She grinned at me. “You should just tell her straight out instead of playing games.”
“Not playing,” I said. “And I can’t risk scaring her away. She ran once and she’ll do it again.”
“Sounds like you’re a coward.” Sasha stopped following me at the doorway to the living room.
“What exactly do you want?” I asked her.
“Nothing,” she said. “I guess I like stirring up trouble.”
I snorted. “At least you’re honest. Go practice your shooting if you need something to do.”
She saluted. “Aye-aye, glorious leader.” Then walked off and disappeared through a side hallway.
I sighed and straightened my shirt before heading back into the living room. I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do, but maybe Sasha was right, maybe telling Irene straight up that I loved her would make things easier.
Except I was scared it wouldn’t and she’d disappear onto the streets again. I couldn’t risk that happening, not when she was finally back and so very close to being what I wanted.
19
Cam
After staying so long at the manor house, it felt odd to go back into the city. I drove and Irene sat up front while Sasha lounged in the back, staring out the window.
“You ever wonder why there are so many cars?” she asked.
“Sounds like something a high teenager would say,” Irene said, grinning.
“I mean it though.” Sasha tapped on the glass. “So many damn cars. You’d think we’d figure out a better way to move people around.”
I exchanged a look with Irene, who was smiling huge. Irene and Sasha got close over the last few days and I was beginning to worry that Sasha was a bad influence. Except Irene seemed happy to have a friend, and I couldn’t begrudge her that.
In fact, I thought it was a good thing. The way Irene talked about the street made it sound like she had nobody, or at least the people she spent time with were only temporary, and only using each other for warmth or safety. I couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like going so long without any real connections, no friends or brothers or colleagues, just the streets and survival. It was a miracle she hadn’t come out feral.