Page 29 of Mortify

We stand there in her tiny kitchen, drinking coffee in silence.

I can see her mind working, processing, planning.

She's not as beaten down as she wants everyone to think.

There's still fight in her.

She just needs the right push.

"I should go," I say eventually, even though it's the last thing I want. "But Everly?"

She looks up at me.

"My offer stands. What I said on Thanksgiving. Say the word, and I'll make him disappear. No questions asked."

"You can't just?—"

"Watch me." I set down my cup, move toward the door. "I've done worse for less reason. Protecting you? That's worth whatever consequences come."

She follows me to the door, still holding her coffee like a lifeline. "Why?" she asks again. "Why do you care so much?"

I turn back, let her see the truth in my eyes. "Because I've been watching you for years. Because you're the only good thing in this shit town worth protecting. Because the thought of him putting his hands on you makes me want to tear the world apart."

"Regnor..."

"I'm not asking for anything," I clarify. "This isn't about wanting something from you. This is about keeping you alive long enough to remember who you were before he broke you down."

She sucks in a sharp breath at that.

"I haven't broken?—"

"Haven't you?" I challenge gently. "The Everly I knew wouldn't miss work. Wouldn't lie to her family. Wouldn't let some asshole dictate her life."

"That Everly was naive," she says bitterly. "She didn't understand how the world really works."

"That Everly was free," I correct. "And she can be again, if you let me help you."

She stares at me for a long moment, and I see it—a spark of the woman she used to be, fighting to surface through all the trauma and fear.

"I'll think about it," she says finally.

It's not yes, but it's not no either.

That’s progress if you ask me.

"That's all I ask." I reach out, slow enough that she can pull back if she wants.

She doesn't.

My fingers brush her cheek, gentle as I know how to be. "But don't think too long, princess. Men like him don't get better. They only get worse."

She leans into my touch for just a moment before catching herself and pulling back.

"I know," she whispers.

I leave then, while I still can.

While I can still respect her wishes and not throw her over my shoulder and take her somewhere Dylan Mitchell will never find her.

---