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  My superhero.

  It’s completely disorienting to realize that he’s just a man. A man who thinks he’s doing right, even when he might not be. A man who can justify his actions any way he wants.

  “Saige?” Sylas says. I realize he’s been speaking to me and I’ve been completely ignoring him.

  “Sorry, what?”

  “I just asked if you wanted to go.” It’s still early and I’m still dreading going back to the apartment. Even though I’m tired, I’m not ready to leave yet.

  “No, I’m fine.” He rubs my shoulder and I can see the question on his face, but he doesn’t say anything further about it.

  I lean against him and he tucks me under his arm, holding me close. Hardy hasn’t said a word to me and I can tell he’s watching every move I make. I also know he has a perfect memory, especially where it comes to numbers.

  I continue staring at him, not to challenge him, but to let him know that I see him and I’m aware that he doesn’t trust me. That’s fine. He doesn’t have to. I’m not asking for him to adore me.

  “I’m going to the restroom. I’ll be right back,” I say, getting up. I need a second.

  I head for the back where the ladies room is. There’s a line, and I lean against the wall and wait. There’s a tap on my shoulder and I turn around to find Hardy. As I expected. It’s part of the reason (other than needing to pee) I excused myself.

  “Hello,” I say, giving him a smile.

  “What’s your endgame, Saige?” A few of the other women in line are eavesdropping but neither of us is going to say anything incriminating.

  “I love him. That’s it,” I say. “My endgame is to be with him.”

  He looks at me for so long, the line moves and the women behind me have to shove me forward. I don’t look away from him. Being stared at by Hardy like this is a bit like being in an x-ray machine. I know he’s going to remember everything I’ve said and every move I’ve made.

  He sets his mouth and then nods, walking away without another word. I hope I’ve passed the test he just administered. I turn around and lean back against the wall.

  When I get back from the bathroom, I’m exhausted and I still need to study. I tug on Sylas’ shirt, letting him know I’m ready to leave.

  “We’re going to head out,” he says, standing and taking my hand. I’m surprised he’s so open about touching me and being affectionate in front of them. I thought he would have reservations about it, but maybe he’s showing them that since he trusts me, they should do.

  I get hugs from both Track and Cash and Baz gives me the kind of look that says he’s picturing me naked. Row and Hardy give me nods, but that’s probably as good as it’s going to get from them. Sylas and I head out. In spite of the awful morning, I’m feeling a lot better about everything.

  “You did so great, but I knew you would,” he says, giving me a rib-crushing hug before we get in the car.

  “I’m so glad you approve,” I say, my voice muffled by his chest. I’m not going to tell him about my little interaction with Hardy unless he asks.

  “What did Hardy say to you?” he asks, as if he was reading my mind. He once told me he could read minds, but only those belonging to redheads.

  “He just asked me what my endgame is,” I say. “And I told him it was to be with you. Nothing else. Then he studied me for a while, nodded and left me alone. It wasn’t a big deal. They’re all looking out for you. I don’t blame them. I wouldn’t trust me either.”

  He frowns and I tap him on the shoulder.

  “Hey, it’s okay. I knew what I was going to have to face when I decided I wanted to be with you. Some guys have crazy exes or crazy mothers or other dark secrets. There are obstacles to every relationship and this is one of ours. It’s fine.” I’d be worried if they weren’t apprehensive of me.

  He nods and I pull away from the bar.

  “They’re protective of you. It’s sweet.” He makes a snorting sound.

  “They’re not exactly sweet guys.” That makes me laugh.

  “No, they’re really not, but I like them anyway and I like the way you are with them. You’re so happy and you laugh a lot. I feel guilty for taking up so much of your time. I know you used to see them a lot more than you do now.” He turns on the radio and starts drumming a beat on his knee with his hand.

  “We didn’t actually meet a whole lot because we didn’t want to draw suspicions,” he says, but I think he’s trying to minimize it for my benefit.

  “But you don’t have to do that now. You can see them whenever you want and I don’t want you to think you’re abandoning me to hang out with them. They’re important to you, so they’re important to me.” He takes my hand from the shifter and places a kiss in my palm and then starts massaging it.

  “You’re important to me.”

  “I know.”

  I sigh and he starts softly singing along with the song.

  “I thought you couldn’t sing,” I say, raising an eyebrow.

  “Quinn couldn’t sing. But I can. My mother had a beautiful voice. She used to sing all the time, especially when she was cleaning. She said it made chores more bearable if you sang. I think I picked it up because I always catch myself singing when I vacuum.” I’ve never noticed. I make a mental note to watch him when he vacuums.

  “I knew that was a lie,” I say.

  “You did?”

  “Yes.”

  “Huh,” he says and then picks up the song again. His voice is beautiful and clear; good enough to be on the radio. In another life he might have been a singer/songwriter or a rock star. I could see him rocking leather pants on stage.

  “What are you smiling about?” he asks, stopping.

  “Thinking about you in leather pants. Mmmm,” I say and he gives me a confused look.

  “I might be able to make that particular fantasy come true for you. If you’re a good girl.” I turn my head and give him a wink.

  “But what if I’m a bad girl?”

  “Then I’ll definitely make it happen.”

  Twenty-Two

  He doesn’t make the leather pants happen that night, but we do end up in bed together when we get back. I leave only to get the minimum amount of studying done and then it’s back to bed.

  It’s the middle of the night and I have a marathon studying session to do the next day and Sylas is going to see Lizzy. I wish I could go, but I just can’t this weekend.

  “Tell her I love her and I’m sorry I couldn’t be there,” I say for the millionth time. I’m so scared of disappointing my new sister and that she’s going to hate me and not want me to come back.

  “I will. I promise. She’s not going to hate you, Saige,” he says, kissing my shoulder. We’re still naked, with me draped across his stomach, his fingers walking up and down my spine. My tattoo has finally healed and the colors have faded to the right shades. I absolutely love it and I still stop and stare any time I go by a mirror and catch it in the corner of my eye. I’m going to have to get some more dresses and shirts to show it off.

  “I hope not. I’ve never had a sister, so I don’t know how this is supposed to work,” I say and he laughs at me.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You. Worrying that Lizzy could hate you. It’s ludicrous. I’ve told you, she loves everyone, and you especially. There’s nothing you could do to make her hate you. Nothing.”

  I’m not so sure about that, but I really, really want her to know that I would much rather hang out with her than study. Granted, I’d rather do almost anything than study at this point. My brain is so full of information, it feels stuffed and mushy.

  “I don’t know what to do about Dad,” I say. I’ve turned my phone back on and there are a ton of messages from him begging me to come back and talk with him, to understand his position and so forth. I’ve ignored all of them, but I have the feeling if I don’t deal with him soon, he’s going to take matters into his own hands and show up here to talk to me.

  “I c
an’t really give you any good advice,” he says.

  I sigh.

  “It’s okay. I just wish it wasn’t like this. I just want him to go back to being my Dad, the one I counted on. The one who did the right thing.” I run my finger down his forehead, across his nose, and down to his chin.

  “But I guess he was never that guy. I just thought he was,” I say. “That’s the hardest thing. Knowing that the man I thought he was is a lie.”

  “I’m so sorry he’s not the man you want him to be,” he says.

  “And I’m sorry I’m whining about my dad issues with you since…” I trail off. I’m sure he doesn’t want to talk about his father right now.

  “It’s okay, Saige. We can talk about him. I probably should talk about him. I haven’t for so many years and that didn’t turn out very well. I held so much inside and it hurt me. I have to bleed it out and let the wounds finally heal.” It’s a messy process and it’s not going to be easy. Both of us are dealing with wounds, only mine are fresh while his have been festering for his whole life.

  “I’ll be your nurse if you’ll be mine,” I say.

  “Deal.”

  I resettle myself and hope that together we can heal and come out the other side intact.

  Another night, another nightmare. This time when I wake, I know I’m definitely in the trunk of a car. I can see myself pulling the handle that’s inside to release it.

  Sylas is there, holding me and helping me come out of the horror, wiping my tears and telling me it’s going to be okay.

  “Did you remember anything this time?” I tell him and he rubs my back, even though I’m totally sweaty.

  “When would you have been trapped in the trunk of a car?” he asks, and I don’t have an answer for him.

  “I have no idea. I don’t know if it’s a memory or just something my brain has cooked up.” Deep down, I know it’s a memory. It’s far too clear and terrifying to be anything else.

  “Maybe it was something that happened when you were young and you repressed it.” I’m not sure how I feel about that.

  “Maybe,” I say. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to take a quick shower and rinse off.” He lets me go and doesn’t push further to make me remember.

  I hold onto the memory in my head, focusing on my hand as I reach for the trunk release that glows in the dark. The hand. My hand.

  It’s small. A child’s hand.

  I shudder and that’s enough for tonight. I can’t do any more. I can’t. It’s too much. I turn on the water and step under the spray, making sure to keep my hair out of the way. I’d rather not go to bed with wet hair.

  I wish I could wash the nightmare down the drain, but that’s just not possible.

  Sylas has his arms open for me when I come back.

  “If I could take it from you, I would,” he says.

  “I know you would. But this is my nightmare to fight.”

  I send Sylas off the next morning with a kiss and a box of cookies and some more DVDs for Lizzy. I wanted to bake them from scratch, but I didn’t have the time or energy. Next time.

  My day is comprised of studying and studying and some more studying. I still have to do my final drawing. It’s due Thursday and I don’t even have an idea. It wouldn’t matter if I had a hundred years to do it, though.

  Sylas gives me a call as I’m taking a mental break in the afternoon and I hear an excited screeching in the background.

  “Someone wants to say hello,” he says, laughing.

  “Hey, Lizzy!” I say.

  “Sister!” she says and starts babbling away. She speaks so fast I can’t catch every word, but it doesn’t matter. I’m happy she’s not mad at me for missing the visit when I promised I would be there every week.

  “Are you done with school yet?” she asks.

  “Nope, not yet. But I’ll be done next week and then it will be summer and I can come and see you!” I still take classes during the summer, but not as many, so I’ll have more time to spend on other things.

  “Cool, cool!” she says and I can’t help but laugh at how infectious her positivity is.

  We chat for a few more minutes and then Sylas comes back on, telling me he’ll be back tonight. I tell him to take his time because I still have a ton of work to do and he’s very distracting.

  I’m just switching from one textbook to another when there’s a knock at my door. I didn’t order food and Sylas is gone so I can narrow down the list of people it could potentially be. I look out the peephole and wish I could pretend I’m not home and not open the door, but that’s not going to happen.

  I hit the deadbolt and remove the chain before I open the door.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Hello, Ladybug.”

  I want to roll my eyes at his use of the nickname. It’s not going to undo what happened yesterday.

  “What do you want?” I ask, leaning against the door and not asking him if he wants to come in.

  “Can we talk?” He looks even worse than he did yesterday. It’s clear he’s gotten no sleep. I sigh and move aside so he can come in.

  “I guess,” I say, walking toward the couch and sitting down. He comes in and sits down on the chair across from me. I cross my arms and wait for him to speak. I’m hoping against hope that he’s here to tell me that he changed his mind.

  “I want to apologize for yesterday. I think we both got a little too heated and I’m sorry for talking to you that way.” It’s a start.

  “Thank you for the apology, but I’m not going to give you one. You know I’m right.” He puts his arms on his knees and leans forward. He looks… old. I always think of him as this eternal being who will live forever, but that’s just not the case.

  “I can understand where you’re coming from, Saige, but a decision like this can’t be made in the blink of an eye. I have projects in the works, things that need to be done.” I don’t give a shit.

  “When I was growing up, I always thought of you like Batman, with less gadgets, of course. You were catching bad guys and fighting the good fight. That’s not to say you weren’t, but you were also doing things that benefited you. Look at the house. Look at all the money you have. It didn’t just come from nowhere. And I know you’ve killed people. Innocent people to get what you thought you needed. Your hands aren’t clean. Your motives aren’t all pure.”

  He doesn’t interrupt or contradict me.

  “I won’t lie to you. I have done bad things. I’ve hurt people. But it was all in service of the greater good. The benefit of the many as opposed to the few. The choices I’ve mad haven’t been easy and I didn’t make them lightly. I relive those moments every night. They haunt me. I’m not happy about the things I’ve done, Saige, but I can’t undo them. My past has a body count, and I’d be a liar if I said there wouldn’t be any more. There will be.” I feel like he’s being truly honest with me for the first time in my life.

  “But those are your choices. You can’t force someone else to make the choices you’ve made. That’s my point. Everyone deserves to have the freedom to make their choices. Everyone. Sylas, me, the rest of his team. They’re good guys, Dad. They really are.” I know their hands aren’t clean either, but none of our hands are. We’re all dirty.

  “I love you, but I don’t want your life. I want my own life, whatever that looks like.” He looks down at his hands.

  “It’s not that simple, Saige.” He keeps just saying the same thing over and over.

  “I’m done talking about this, if that’s what you’re going to say.” I get up and go to the kitchen for a cool glass of water. I’m all fired up again.

  “You’re young still, Saige. So young,” he says, getting up and following me.

  “That’s such bullshit, Dad, and you know it.” I pull a glass down and go to the fridge to get some ice and then fill the glass with water. “I don’t care about your justification and I don’t want to talk about this anymore. The end.” I go back into the living room and he follows me once again.


  “Where’s Sylas today?” he asks.

  “Are you serious? You’re trying to be my dad now?”

  He grimaces and then rubs his face.

  “I don’t know what to do anymore, Saige. I just want things to go back to the way they were.” I slam my glass of water down on the coffee table so hard I think it’s going to break, but it doesn’t.

  “We can’t! We can only go forward. Fucking hell, I can’t deal with this anymore.” I want to run away from him like a kid throwing a tantrum, but this is my apartment and I’m a grown-ass woman.

  “I’m not going to lose everything I’ve worked for,” he says calmly and that pisses me off more.

  “Then I don’t think I can be your daughter anymore. I’m done.” I walk to the door and hold it open.

  “Saige,” he says, pleading.

  “No. Get out. Get out of my house.” I motion with my arm and I’m so upset, I’m shaking.

  “I wish things could be different,” he says as he gets up. I expect him to beg, to tell me that he’s changed his mind, but that’s not what he does. He gets up and walks out.

  I close the door behind him and fall to the floor. Of all the things I ever thought would happen, I never thought I would lose him. The man I used to love more than anything.

  But he doesn’t love me more than anything. He loves his work and that’s what hurts the most.

  Twenty-Three

  Sylas finds me on the floor. I’ve been trying to get up for hours, but it’s not working. I did move to a sitting position, but I just can’t get up.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, pulling me up. “What happened? Why didn’t you call me?” Because my phone was on the coffee table and I couldn’t make it that far. I actually fell asleep on the floor and slept for a while in the fetal position.