“You’re here,” I told her, voice low and raw, “because every monster in this city wants a piece of you.”
Her eyes widened, but I wasn’t finished.
“And because…” I took one step toward her, closing the space she tried to claim, “…I have a moral obligation to protect you from those monsters.”
Something flickered across her face; fear, anger, the memory of a pantry that could have been her final resting place.
I felt it hit me too.But I didn’t stop.
“You want the truth?”I rasped.“Here it is.”
My next words burned like they were branded into me.
“You’re here because I’m the only thing standing between you and the people who want to finish what they started.”
Her breath caught.
“And because,” I added, softer, deadlier, “at the end of the day, despite what you may think of me, I’m the lesser of two evils.”
The truth hung between us—ugly, heavy, undeniable.
And there was no taking it back.
I met her gaze without flinching.
“I spared you when you were seven.You shouldn’t have been alive when I left that house.But I let you live.”
She blinked… once.Twice.Then her voice dropped to something cold and deadly.
“You destroyed my life.”
My chest tightened, and the fire that surged through me was uglier than guilt — it was recognition.
“You killed my family,” she said, her voice climbing, cracking.“You left me alone.You stole everything I had.And now you’re standing there telling me you’re going tosaveme?”
The word came out like poison.
A raw, guttural sound tore out of her — not a sob, not a scream, something feral and broken — and she rammed both fists into my chest.Once.Twice.Again.And I let her.
Each blow landed over my ribs like she was trying to beat the truth out of me.
“You ruined me!”she cried.“I had nothing!I was a child?—”
“You survived,” I reminded her.
“That is not the same thing!”she screamed.“Surviving and living are two different things!”
Her legs gave out.She collapsed onto the floor like her body had finally agreed with her heart, chest heaving, hair plastered to her wet face, hands shaking in her lap like she didn’t know what to do with all the pain still inside her.
My hands flexed uselessly at my sides.I’d gutted men with my bare hands and felt nothing.But her crumpled at my feet?She might as well have taken a sharp instrument to my heart and stabbed me there.
I crouched in front of her.“I’m not here to comfort you.”
She glared through her tears.“Of course not.”
“I’m here because the moment I decided to kill you, I realized something.”
She waited, barely breathing.