Page 132 of To Catch A Rogue
Lark snuggled into his chest. "I don't really want to talk about it."
"You can if you want. You know that, right?"
She nodded, her finger tracing small circles around his nipple.
"It's the thing I like most about being with you," she whispered. "I always felt like I could talk about almost anything with you. You always listened. It was hard...."Charlie trailed his fingers up her spine, waiting for her to continue.
"After what happened to my family, the most difficult thing was not being able to speak about it," she said softly. "It was too dangerous, for you never knew who was listening. Some men were asking questions about Tin Man in Copenhagen, and we had to leave everything behind. I don't even know if they were Sergey's men or not, but we always had to presume they were. Everywhere we went I was looking over my shoulder. The only place that felt safe was the rookeries, but even then.... Even then I had to play a part. I was allowed to be Lark, but I could never be Irina ever again."
"I had a small taste of that when Vickers murdered my father, and Honoria fled with us to Whitechapel. I hated being trapped in that little slum, but I didn't dare leave the house. I've never felt so alone in my life. Honoria was doing everything she could to try and cure the craving, and all I wanted to do was be normal again."
"Exactly." Lark lifted her head, her smoky hazel eyes locking on his. "You don't speak about that part of your life very often."
"Ever," he pointed out with a wry smile. "I never want to even think about those six months ever again."
Lark stroked his lips, tracing the curve of his smile. She knew the story. Everyone in the Warren knew the story. The craving was a dangerous disease. Day by day his body had been weakening, craving blood, and he'd been starving it in his quest to stay human.
The problem was, the blood thirst never weakened. It only got stronger, and he'd had two sisters in the house.
Two hearts beating as they pumped blood around their bodies.
He'd been so fucking frightened he'd lose control, that he'd insisted Lena tie him to the bed.
And Honoria....
She hadn't wanted to believe he was losing this fight.
He hadn't dared tell her how bad it had been, or how often he still woke directly from a nightmare where there was blood on his hands and his sisters’ bodies at his feet.
The only one who knew was Lark, because the one place he'd been able to go when those nightmares haunted him was her bed. They'd never speak of it, and she'd grouse about how much room he took up, but even if they'd been fighting she would never turn him away on those nights.
"Even when I arrived at the Warren, I had to stay locked away until Blade was certain I wasn't a threat to anyone. The loneliness... it eats at you. You were my saving grace, Lark. This annoying, arrogant little girl who thought she was better than me in every way. God, you used to drive me crazy, but your visits were the only thing that got me through. Everyone was so careful around me. They would lower their voices as if the slightest outburst would make me irrational. Honoria was so worried that I didn't want to scare her anymore. I felt like a freak. But you didn't care. You came and visited every day and even when you were bragging about beating me at checkers or cards, you gave me back my sense of normalcy. You gave me back my life. I didn't have to be something I wasn't when I was with you."
"Is that why you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Sometimes I see you smile at your friends to placate them," Lark murmured, pressing her finger into the center of his lower lip. "You're always smiling. Always careful to please. It's as if you think you can hide behind a smile and nobody will look any deeper. You want everyone to think you're fine, even when you're hurting."
He stilled.
Caught.
"You don't have to pretend with me, Charlie. I know all your tells."
"And I know yours." He captured her hand and kissed her fingertips. "You run when you're frightened. You locked me out for nearly three years. If we're going to make something of this—what lies between us—then you can't run anymore. You can't lock me out."
"Arewe going to make something of this?"
"If you think you're going to ruin me for one night and then not accept the consequences, then you should think again," he told her, mock sternly. "You took my virginity, Lark. You have to restore my reputation somehow."
"And now you're smiling again, when I know something is bothering you," she pointed out.
He rose up onto his elbows. "And you're avoiding answering the question."
Lark sat up and straddled his hips. "That's annoying."
"I know." He tried to maintain eye contact, fighting not to look down. "If you're intending to distract me, then you're doing an excellent job of it. Is this a new trick to deflect?"
