His eyebrows rose slightly at her response.
"What?" she challenged. "Did you think I'd argue for mercy? After what he did to Tim? To Marcus? After he tried to kill me, would have killed you if given the chance?"
"No," Blade admitted. "I just... part of me is still getting used to this version of you. The warrior beneath the little girl."
"They're both me," she reminded him. "Always have been. The little who needs care and protection. And the fighter my father trained to survive in a dangerous world."
"I know," he said softly. "And I... I love both parts. Equally."
The simple admission, delivered with such raw honesty, made her breath catch. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," he confirmed, his eyes never leaving hers. "The little girl who curls up with stuffed animals and needs someone to care for her? I cherish her. I want to protect her, provide for her, and be her safe place." His voice deepened slightly. "But the warrior who can take down armed men to protect those she cares about? Who stands her ground even when terrified? I admire her. Respect her. Want to fight beside her, not just for her."
Tears pricked at Lily's eyes, unexpected emotion welling up at his words. No one had ever understood both sides of her so completely. Had ever valued both equally. Greg had wanted only the little, the submissive, the dependent. Others had been uncomfortable with that aspect of her entirely, wanting only the independent, capable woman.
Blade wanted, no heloved, all of her. Just as she was.
"I love you," she whispered, the words feeling insufficient to express the depth of what she felt. "So much it scares me sometimes."
"I know the feeling," he replied with a rueful smile. "Never thought I'd find this. Never thought I'd want it. Then you crashed into my life, and suddenly nothing made sense without you in it."
Before she could respond, a nurse entered the room, clipboard in hand. "Good to see you awake, Ms. Hart," she said cheerfully. "Time for vitals and medication."
Blade released Lily's hand, moving back slightly to give the nurse room to work. But his eyes never left Lily's face, the connection between them unbroken despite the interruption.
As the nurse checked her vital signs and administered a fresh dose of pain medication, Lily found herself thinking about the future. About what might come after Jose was dealt with, after she recovered. About the life she might build with this complicated, fierce, tender man who loved all parts of her.
If she survived. If he survived.
A shadow crossed her mind at the thought. Jose was still out there, still a threat. And Blade would be at the forefront of the hunt for him, putting himself in danger yet again.
"Your vitals are improving nicely," the nurse observed, making notes on her chart. "Doctor will be in shortly to examine your wounds. If everything looks good, we might be able to discuss transfer options soon."
"Thank you," Lily replied, managing a small smile despite her growing concern.
Once the nurse had left, Blade returned to her side, immediately noticing the change in her expression. "What is it?" he asked.
"I just realized," she began hesitantly, "when I'm transferred to the clubhouse, you'll be going after Jose."
He didn't deny it. "That's the plan, yes."
"Without me," she added, the words tasting bitter.
"Lily," he said gently, "you've been shot. Twice. You nearly died. You're in no condition to?—"
"I know," she interrupted. "Logically, I know that. But the thought of you going after him without me there to watch your back..." she trailed off, unable to articulate the fear gripping her heart.
Understanding dawned in his eyes. "You're worried about me."
"Of course I am," she replied with a hint of exasperation. "I love you, you idiot. The idea of you walking into danger while I'm stuck in a bed, useless..." She swallowed hard. "I hate it."
A slow smile spread across his face, surprising her.
"What?" she demanded.
"Now you know how I felt," he pointed out, "watching you go to that quarry without me."
The irony wasn't lost on her. She'd put him through exactly what she was now dreading—the helpless agony of watching someone you love face danger while you remained behind.
