After cutting the engine, I push my way out of my car, and by the time I’m walking around the front of it, Tilly steps into my side. On instinct, my hand falls to the small of her back, andI lead her into the restaurant. At this time of night, it’s almost deserted, but the host happily shows us to a table right by the window.
Tilly doesn’t bother consulting the menu, just tells the hostess exactly what she wants, and within ten minutes, she’s scarfing down her food as though she hasn’t eaten in over a week.
“Holy shit, this is good,” she says, just as her phone vibrates against the table with incoming notifications, one after the other. She ignores it at first, but when they don’t stop rolling in, both of us stare at the phone with curiosity.
She lets out a huff, clearly not thrilled to have her meal interrupted, and as she scoops up her phone and checks what’s going on, she groans and hands it straight to me.
I glance down at the screen, and my chest sinks.
“Looks like The Vag Destroyer didn’t stay down for long,” she tells me while shoveling a bite of chicken parmesan into her mouth. “It was nice while it lasted.”
I flick through the multiple notifications and scan over all the new accounts that have been created, each one with the sole purpose of humiliating this beautiful woman who sits across from me.
My jaw clenches, anger sweeping through me as I lock her phone and slide it back across the table. “I’ll deal with it,” I tell her, having every intention of finishing it this time. Animals like this never stay down for long, but this one will learn not to fuck with what’s mine. I’ve already had to teach him one lesson, but apparently, it didn’t stick.
Tilly watches me, her gaze narrowed, and when she reaches across the table and brushes her fingers over my hand, I realize it’s clenched into a tight fist. “It’s okay,” she tells me. “It’s not a big deal. I mean, it is. It’s shitty, and this guy clearly has some weird hang-up about me and is insisting on making my life aliving hell, but I knew it was coming. You told me as much. I was prepared for it.”
A darkness swells in me, and I pull my hand away from hers. “Nothing about it is okay,” I tell her, a hint of the man I used to be coming out in my tone and making her recoil. “I’m going to find this asshole and finish this for good.”
Her gaze lingers on mine, and I can see the thoughts spiraling through her head. “What does that mean?” she questions, visibly swallowing.“Finish this for good?”
I watch her for a moment, but the longer I sit in silence, the more her mind will take her to places it shouldn’t go. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, hellcat,” I explain. “I think it’s best we just leave it at that.”
Her gaze narrows. “Should I be running in the opposite direction?”
I nod. “Yes,” I say, matter of fact. “You should.”
“And if I don’t want to?”
I let out a breath. This is my opportunity to tell her who I am, to let her know the kind of man she’s been sleeping with, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Once she knows that I spent ten years behind bars for killing a man in cold blood, it’ll be over. Her fight-or-flight instincts will kick in, and she’ll convince herself to walk away, and I’ll have no choice but to sit back and watch her go.
She’s only twenty-two. She should be focusing on where her life will take her, finding a good job in her field for after graduation. If that means moving her life across the country, she shouldn’t be focused on shacking up with a convicted murderer, no matter how long ago it all went down. Because the truth of the matter is, when it comes to Tilly Bardot, I know without a doubt in my mind that I would do it all over again. I would take another man’s life without question if it meant keeping this woman safe, I’d happily spend another ten years behind bars because of it.
“Finish your meal, hellcat.”
Her lips press into a hard line, and the curiosity in her eyes becomes more intense, looking at me as though only just realizing that apart from what’s on the surface, she doesn’t know a thing about me.
Her gaze finally drops, and she eats the rest of her meal in silence. Her mind is clearly focused on other things, and while she’s dropped it for now, I don’t doubt that the topic of my past will be coming up again very soon.
20
CAESAR
Pressing my foot to the gas, we sail down the street as Tilly holds a to-go tub of ice cream in her lap, her small plastic spoon barely surviving with each scoop she takes.
She’s barely tired now, her eyes wide open despite the massive night she’s had, and as I drive, I find myself passing the turn toward her apartment complex and head straight for my place instead.
Despite everything, despite knowing that I need to push her away and that she’s becoming far too attached to something that can never happen, I want her with me tonight. I want her in my bed, I want her head against my chest as she sleeps soundly, knowing that I would never let any harm come to her. I want her to be mine.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Tilly notices straight away, her gaze slicing out the window as we pass her turn off, and when she casually glances back down at her ice cream and gets back to work, scooping another bite, I let out a breath, grateful that she didn’t feel the need to bring it up.
Knowing that she knows I want her with me is one thing, but having to explain myself is another whole battle that I’m not even a little bit prepared to face down.
It’s a short drive back to my place, and after parking in my garage and closing the automatic door behind me, I start leading Tilly in through the internal garage door as she shoves the shitty plastic spoon deep into her ice cream.
“Jesus,” she mutters to herself, the spoon getting stuck in the ice cream.