Page 45 of Love the Way You Lion
His brows furrow and he frowns. “Is it tough to be straightforward with me, love? Is it hard to trust me? I know you don’t enjoy seeing me hurting, and I figure that honesty might weigh on you when you’re sure it’s going to set me off. I’d hoped I’ve acted in ways that prove to you that while I get angry and hurt, I’d rather know the truth, even if it’s painful. Otherwise, we’re living under the pall of a lie.”
We’re treading in some deep, dangerous water here with the secrets of the past. I’m still not ready to relive that through the telling of it, and I’m hesitant to drag myself and my primary through the mud with them by giving up the truth in its entirety.
“It’s hard to be totally honest with anyone. As you know, I’ve learned being honest gets you punished. Trustingyouisn’t hard. I have knee-jerk reactions—moments where I’m sure I’m going to lose you over something that I can’t control. I still get scared. Then I get mad at myself for it because you have done nothing to warrant my reaction.”
This is as close to real vulnerability about the past as I can be at the moment, and I hope he understands. Even with Wilde dead, the fear hasn’t faded yet.
“You will not lose me over something you’ve no control over. I’ll keep reassuring you every day until that demon is exorcised. You have my word that I won’t punish you if there are truths you’ve gotto spill. They may hurt me a bit, and I may need to be by myself for a time, but that’s not a punishment. It's survival for me.”
“I work hard to remember that and not panic.” My expression is rueful as I sigh. “I have my own insecurities because I love you so much. You’ve become my haven, my refuge.”
“I’ll be whatever you need me to be, wife. Depend on me, for I depend on you; love me, as I do you; cherish me, as I do you; respect me, as I do you. The rest will either sod off or shrivel up and go away.”
I kiss him again, smiling. “You have a way with words, buddy. You always say the perfect thing.”
“When the feelings are there, the belief in something so strong — the words set themselves up right. I’ve nothing to do with it. But I promise you, we’re going to have one hell of a good time working together.”
I blink. “What?!”
His entire face lights up as if he’s been waiting to tell me this for hours, maybe even days. “I heard this morning. Talia and I were at a meeting and found out, and then we took the walk on our way home. You’re a newly minted contract agent at the Company. Meet with Mikhail and let him see your skills in training. There’s some paperwork to do, but you’re my partner.”
Throwing myself into his arms, I beam. I sort of have a job being a leader here. That takes up some time, but I need something more. I need a purpose, an outlet, a place that isn’t where everyone owns me and I can be who I’ve become.
Everyone here remembers the old Deli, but this extra dimension doesn’t fit into their picture of me and no one will adjust their view. They just keep putting me back in that box and are sodisappointed when I don’t fit into it anymore. Wilde and Sari were the worst about it, but it’s not an uncommon problem of late.
I need this.
“I can go on missions and be a super spy now? That’s awesome.”
Narrowing his eyes, he gives me a look. “Partner. That means you’re going with me, woman.”
Sniffing, I grumble, “I can pop in and out. You know I can take care of myself.”
I feel the long-suffering sigh as he shakes his head. “You know, I hate when she’s right. Talia bet me a bloody Wright print that you’d be off on your own before I could bat a lash. You haven’t even signed the papers yet! Women are going to be the death of me, I bloody swear.”
“She’s a smart cookie, that one.” I nod. “When can we go? Can we go now? I want to go now.”
Taurus sighs again. “There goes my plan, up to and including naked gymnastics for the night. Alright, love. Throw on some clothes and let’s go see the uptight nit that runs the agents.”
It started out rough, but this is shaping up to be the best day ever.
The Bird Loses His Temper
TAURUS
Rage. All I feel is blinding, scorching rage.
Which is really unfair, because today was good. I was good. The sky was clear. The blood bag was hot, just how I like it. Deli actually smiled at me this morning—really smiled, like the scare from the drugging hadn’t eaten her alive. She made one of her sarcastic little comments about my blood bags tasting like warmed-over regret. I almost choked on it from laughing.
She seemed like herself again. So I let myself hope. I let myself breathe. I went to work humming like some idiot in love. And I was. I am. I thought maybe—maybewe could start to move forward.
Then that gnobbly little troll reached out.
Of course it was Sari. Her name alone makes my molars grind. My minx’sothermate family and self-appointed moral tornado. The woman looks like she collects haunted dolls and bad intentions, and somehow still acts like she’s got the ethical high ground. She's been circling Minx like a buzzard since the blogger died, clinging tothe past, playing on her grief. Wilde and Sari were her mates first—Sari never let go of that, not even after death took him.. She’s been trying to twist Minx’s pain into something useful ever since.
She’s still on this stupid resurrection kick, and I need her to fuck off and leave my minx alone. So when she wanted to talk, said she had questions about grief? I figured I could use this opportunity to get her to back off. If she needs my input on a theory, then she’s going to listen to me when I tell her why she can go straight to hell.
I should’ve said no.
