Page 12 of These Godly Lies
“That’s not the issue. He could worship the ground I walked on and it still wouldn’t sway my opinion on this. He shouldn’tbe here, Anna.”
Her arms cross over her chest, a stubborn lift of her chin. “He was homeless, Khiran. And that town is so full of bigots, people would rather chase him away than help him.”
His stare doesn’t falter. Doesn’t flinch. “Then we will find him another town.”
“If that’s what he wants, then that’s fine. But I promised him a roof and a job for as long as he wants it.”
He shakes his head, the first traces of frustration sharpening the edge of his voice. “He’ll be caught in the middle, Anna. You can’t possibly wish that for him.”
“Of course I don’t, but we don’t know if that will happen months or decades from now! You’re asking me to turn him away on the chance that it comes sooner than later.”
The way he stares at her makes her skin flush. It’s the same look he’s given her in the past, the one where she feels exposed of secrets she never even knew she held. He still sees right through her. She suspects he always will.
“You were afraid,” Khiran says, the words soft. “When he shouted. Those moments before you saw it was only me.”
Anna flinches, unable to deny it. Discreetly, she thumbs at the ring on her right hand—the one that connects them. Her fear must have been strong enough,realenough, for him to feel it. “Yes,” she admits, “but that doesn’t mean I’ll cater to the fear of what could—”
“Will,” he corrects. “Whatwillhappen. It is inevitable. We need to treat it that way.”
She deflates, feeling chastised. “What will happen,” she echoes, voice soft, before adding, “Someday.”
“Anna—”
“Jiro needs help now,” she stresses. “You told me once that you gave me immortality because you saw the good that I could do. Please don’t ask me not to do it. Not now. Not after everything.”
He runs a hand over his face, fingers massaging his temple. “And if they come while he’s here?”
Her eyebrows rise in challenge. “Do you have any reason to believe they will?”
His mouth thins. “You are relentless.”
Anna’s lips curl, her smile triumphant as she pushes herself from the door. Her hands rise, reaching for him. “Maybe a little.”
He groans, falling back onto the mattress. His forearm rests over his eyes. “Absolutely insufferable.”
She joins him, straddling his hips and kissing the exposed skin under the line of his jaw. “Am I?”
“Without question.”
She grins against him, her hands lowering to his belt. “I don’t believe you.”
“Damn it, Anna,” he mutters, breath hitching. His fingertips trace a path up her arm before sliding into her hair. “You’re being terribly distracting.” He turns his head, catching her lips. “I’m trying to be angry with you.”
She hums against him, successfully undoing the catch of his belt. “Be angry tomorrow,” she sighs, eyes fluttering shut as his lips move over her jaw. Nipping at her pulse. “I missed you.”
His hands roam her back, settling on her hips as he rolls them over. He hovers over her, a breath away. Anna can see every fleck of green swimming in the blue of his irises. Can see every regret. He places a kiss at the corner of her mouth, the ridge of her cheek, her closed eyelid. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I would come more often if I could, but if they notice—”
She hushes him, her hands curling in the fabric of his shirt. “I know.”
Fingers trace her brow, sweeping a stray curl to the side. Another kiss, this one lingering longer, to her forehead. It feels like an apology.
CHAPTER FOUR
The boy hates him. He can live with that, truly. There are moments—when he observes her happiness, when he’s holding her in his arms, when he’s tasting her skin—that he remembers it can’t last forever. And he hates himself, too.
CALIFORNIA, UNITEDSTATES
WINTER1956
