Page 3 of Hell and Halos

I hate to say this part because it implies that she's partly to blame, and she's not. No one is responsible for Marcus but Marcus. But she needs to know the risks and this is a legit risk.

"Who knows what his plan is, Savannah. Your help is not necessary. Your presence is not helpful, and over my dead fuckin' body will you be a part of this night."

Her lip trembles. Her words come out a whisper. "What are you gonna do?"

I let out a breath. Put my hand on her cheek. Then look her in the eyes. "He won't survive this."

"But Legion, you could go to prison, you could⁠—"

"Shh," I say, placin' my fingers against her lips. "You're not listenin'. It's handled."

Savannah takes my fingers in her hand, just holds 'em there for a second, and she's lookin' at 'em like she's studyin' the ink. Studyin' all the evidence of what I am.

Then she locks eyes with me and kisses 'em. Presses her lips right to my knuckles, slow and deliberate, like a prayer she already knows won't be answered.

"You could die, Legion." Her voice is soft now. "And I can't even think that thought right now. It's…" She chokes down a sob with effort. "You don't understand Marcus. He's got the kind of privilege that comes up in the blood. The kind of privilege that doesn't just protect a man, it makes him untouchable and dangerous in a way you can't see comin'."

"Savannah," I say, tryin' to remain calm. "I'm gonna say this one more time, then we are partin' ways. You are not comin' with me. And because I know you won't go down in that bunker. Because I know you're gonna be lookin' out the window, lookin' for news. You are gonna go inside and you are gonna get yourself a fuckin' shotgun, and then you're gonna turn off all the lights, and sit your ass in a chair in the corner facing the fuckin' door, and you are gonna hold down the goddamned fort. Do ya hear me?"

She started smiling right about the time I said 'shotgun'. She knows I'm tellin' her all this so she can feel useful and necessary. But she also knows I'm dead fuckin' serious.

"He won't hurt her, right?"

I've won. So I nod. "Right." And I lie.

Because in my head I see Marcus White Jr. comin' out of that room at the cattlemen's club with that little boy behind him, cryin'.

Just because Marcus prefers the boys, doesn't mean he won't ruin a girl.

"He's not gonna hurt her, Savannah." I reinforce the lie. "He's crazy, not evil."

She needs to believe this. She can't ever know the truth about her former fiancé. She can't ever know that she held the hand of that monster. Kissed him. Fucked him.

She can't ever know.

"Come on," I say, openin' my door. "I'll walk you in." I get out, close my door, walk around, open hers, and smile.

"I feel useless," she says, steppin' out.

I close the door, grab the suitcase from the truck bed, and take her hand. "Don't feel useless, Savannah. Feel protected. Because that's what you are. Marcus will be dealt with and in a few hours, all this will be over."

This part isn't a lie.

Marcus White Jr. is gonna die for takin' my baby sister.

It's gonna be messy, and loud, and bloody.

But by tomorrow mornin', it will all be just fine.

Because he'll be dead.

We walk hand in hand toward the mansion and the last of the light is gone now. Just like that. The sky holds onto it for a minute, that deep bruised purple that comes right after, and then that goes too.

I notice it.

That's the thing. I notice it.

Thirty-one years and this wasn't a thing for me. I couldn't tell you what a single sunset looked like, let alone if it was doin' anything worth remembering.