Aftershock

Lilith

Eating pizza in the living room turns out better than I expected. Maybe even better than if we’d had a real meal at the dining table.

Sitting comfortably on the couch with Alaric beside me and Hope across from us, nothing about this feels formal. There’s no pressure, no careful politeness.

The conversation flows from one topic to another, from Hope’s plans for her bakery to a funny lady in the cafeteria who made me laugh so hard I snorted, then to Alaric’s workout routine when he gets the chance.

Warmth buzzes through me at how effortless and natural our interactions are. It’s like we’ve done this a hundred times before.

Like Alaric was always meant to be a part of our little family.

Even Hope never gets around to grilling him like she said she would.

I don’t think she means to let it go. It just…happens.

“Lilith.” Alaric glances at me, wiping his hands with a napkin before lacing his fingers with mine.

“Yes?” It blows my mind that I still get goosebumps when he says my name like that.

“I didn’t get to ask before, but I noticed a couple of new pumpkins and skeletons in your room. If you’d like, I’d love to take you to the Halloween parade this year.”

“Thank you. The parade must be beautiful.” Since he keeps giving me that I’m listening look, I add, “Maybe one day.”

“Until then…” Hope chimes in, her voice warm. “Alaric, maybe you can convince her to watch some scary movies with you, because—oh, um. Shit, I never asked if you guys talked about it. Fuck. Fuck.”

“It’s okay.” I turn in time to see her cheeks burn red. “We did.”

“Thank God.” She lets out a long breath, then points a finger at Alaric. “You know, it’s your fault for being so…one of us.”

His lips twitch while his thumb rubs comforting circles over my wrist. “I apologize, I guess?”

Both Hope and I laugh at that. When our laughter fades, I realize Alaric’s expression has shifted. The lightness has slipped away, his serious gaze boring into my soul.

“If you’re open to it, we could try watching a scary movie together.

” He must sense my rising panic, because he leans in and presses his lips to my forehead, letting them linger there.

He only pulls away once my breathing evens out.

“You don’t have to decide anything right now.

I hope it goes without saying that any choice you make is a good one, and… ”

My heart flutters in my chest as I remain quiet, eagerly waiting for him to finish.

“While you think about it, understand this—I’m not trying to fix you. You’re not broken. Not even close.” When he pulls back, I notice his jaw is clenched. Somehow, his voice stays low. Controlled. “I’m just giving you the chance to reclaim what was stolen from you.”

Gratitude creeps up the back of my neck. My eyes sting. Though I can tell he’s set on erasing every trace of my mother from my life, he isn’t forcing it. He leaves the choice up to me.

How dare he say he’s anything less than perfect?

“I’d love that.” Emotional but happy, I let my head rest on his shoulder. “Can Hope join?”

“You don’t even have to ask.” He lets go of my hand to wrap his arm around me, tucking me into his side.

Snuggling into my own personal fortress, I whisper, “Thank you.”

Hope, who’s been quiet the whole time, fixes her gaze on Alaric. “You really love Lilith, don’t you?”

“Very much.”

That concise answer does more than any heartfelt confession ever could. It’s as if he doesn’t need to over-explain what comes naturally to him.

My friend’s lips quirk briefly. Then they twist as her forehead creases.

“What’s going on?” I ask, concern creeping up my throat.

“I have a question for Alaric.” Her hands wring in her lap. “A sensitive one.”

“Um.” Alarm bells go off in my head. Hope is brilliant. Smart and intuitive too. What if she suspects he’s hiding something? “Maybe another day?” Or never?

“It’s fine.” Alaric rubs my arm, the movement reverent and meant to soothe. “Ask away, Hope.”

“I…”

“Look, it’s fine.” The kindness in his voice is genuine. My heart melts at that, and I forget why I was freaking out in the first place. “We’re going to be around each other a lot. I don’t want you feeling like you have to watch yourself around me.”

“Okay, then.” She takes a deep breath through her nose. Lets it out. “You, and correct me if I’m wrong…” Her sad brown eyes slide from me to him. “You get Lilith so well because, um…you know what it’s like, right?”

When he mentioned his parents to Harold, Alaric was scornful. He acted as if talking about them didn’t touch him.

And maybe it didn’t back then, when I, technically, wasn’t around.

Tonight, whether the memories upset him or he worries about my reaction to this hidden side of him, he stops stroking my arm. His body goes still, his gaze turned inward.

Lead lines the pit of my stomach, but I won’t let it get to me. Won’t let it show.

He needs me to be strong for him.

Shielding him from the pain, I snake my arms around him, hugging him tight, tight, tighter.

“Oh, shit, I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m so sorry. Fuck.” Hope’s cheeks turn beet red. She looks to me for help. “I didn’t mean to pry. I just love the way he is around you, and it got me thinking and—Oh, God. Oh, God. Alaric, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He gulps.

Then his hollow eyes find mine, and my heart shatters into a million pieces.

“You don’t have to say anything.” I squeeze him so hard my arms hurt. “We can save it for another day. Or we don’t have to talk about it at all.”

“No. I was going to tell you about it one of these days. Might as well.” His muscles loosen the longer I have him in my embrace. “My dad called beating me with a belt discipline. My mother was a socialite. I only mattered when it was time to take a photo for a magazine, a Christmas card, whatever.”

Hearing him say it, even in his mildly detached tone, hurts.

Because he isn’t saying these things to Harold. He isn’t sarcastic.

As much as he tries to hide it, his ache bleeds into the room.

The pain in my abdomen is worse than anything I’ve ever experienced.

I’m about to expel my dinner.

Except I can’t be that selfish. He’s being brave, remembering some of the worst days of his life. It must be terrible. I refuse to be another burden on him by bursting into tears or throwing up.

What he needs is the warmth he’s never gotten. The love only I can give him.

Determined to offer him just that, I shift around the couch until I climb onto his lap. My cheek lies on his shoulder while my arms lock around his neck, my feet resting on the cushion.

Though he’s more relaxed than before, he’s still frozen. His arms lie limp at his sides.

I latch onto him tighter.

Hope mouths another, I’m sorry, and tiptoes to her room with her head down.

Later, I’ll tell her she’s done nothing wrong.

First, Alaric.

“Fuck your parents.” The words I’m glad they’re dead almost come out. I’m not supposed to know that. I swallow them down at the last second by pressing my lips to his neck, and start over. “Fucking assholes.”

“It’s okay. They got theirs.” He winds a hand through my hair, brushing it reverently while his chin rests on the top of my head. I think it’s easier for him to speak like that. “They died in a car accident fifteen years ago.”

“Good. They deserved it.” That and so much more. “I’m so sorry you had to go through it.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry.” He groans, sounding pained. “For complaining about being beaten with a belt and ignored when I know your history.”

“You weren’t complaining. You were talking. Besides.” I raise my head to look at him. “You…”

“I, what, little devil?” His hand curls around the side of my neck.

He does it intentionally, using his firm grip to calm me down.

It won’t work. Today, I’m too riled up to relax.

“Don’t ever downplay your pain because of my past.” Cupping his smooth jaw with both hands, I lower his head until we’re at eye level. “It happened to you. That alone makes it bad.” The more I think about it, the angrier I get. “They had no right. No right.”

“Thank you,” is all he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “It’s—”

We’re interrupted by his phone.

When it vibrates in his pocket, my first instinct is to tell him not to take it. I’m close to saying that we need each other tonight.

But then I remember the person he might have in his storage unit. This could be a notification, an alarm system going off.

I slide back to my spot on the couch. “Your phone.”

He kisses my temple and reaches for his pocket.

A few taps on his screen, and Alaric’s eyes widen by a fraction. Someone less attuned to him wouldn’t even notice it.

Thing is, I’m not a someone. I’m his.

Pinpricks race across my skin, my pulse thundering when I think of all the things that could’ve gone wrong.

I don’t realize I’m biting my lip until blood trickles into my mouth.

“I have to go.” He pockets his phone, fixing his expression into a composed one. The perfect mask. “The hospital. I apologize.”

“It’s okay, I get it.” I do. I also pray he didn’t just witness his captive breaking free.

“No, it isn’t okay.”

My body heats when his hand curls around my neck, and he pulls me into a desperate kiss. With his lips, teeth, and tongue, he shows me how much he hates leaving me.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he vows, his lips brushing mine. “Dinner at my place tomorrow. Or whatever you want to do. Just say the word.”

“Dinner sounds good.” It truly does.

Doesn’t mean I’m letting him go.

Not. At. All.

Thirty minutes later, I watch Alaric from the peephole, following his movements as he wipes a small puddle of blood off the floor.

Like me, he’s changed out of his dinner clothes and into jeans and a T-shirt. The difference is, mine are relatively new. Alaric, as always when he’s down here, is in a pair of tattered jeans, a worn-out T-shirt, and latex gloves.

“You stubborn motherfucker.” I flinch, since I’ve never heard him this upset. “What did you think would happen when you knocked that chair over?”

Once he says it, my attention shifts from Alaric to the man.

Blood trickles down his forehead, streaking his cheek.

He must’ve rocked the sturdy chair hard enough to tip it over.

Meaning Alaric has a motion detector installed in the storage unit.

That’s my man, not leaving anything to chance.

Once the floor is clean, he gets up and tosses the rag into the metal barrel. The man shivers as Alaric walks back to him, his footsteps heavy and ominous.

“There’s no running away from this.” He tilts slightly, looking every bit the gorgeous menace he is. “You hurt your son, and now you’re going to answer for it.”

My heart cracks right down the middle, and it’s not because of this abuser’s son.

Well, a little bit. But mostly it’s for Alaric. After tonight, the way I see him has shifted. He isn’t just this impenetrable force anymore.

He’s human.

And as such, it must be agony for him to come down here and face another version of his parents. To stand in front of someone who turns every old scar in him raw again.

I hate that he has to do it. I’m so proud of him, too, for channeling his pain into justice.

“Mmm,” the man mumbles from behind the duct tape, forcing my attention back to him. His face is pale, his brown hair matted. “Mmm.”

Who the hell is he?

Pulling out my phone, I aim it at the peephole and snap a photo of the other man. Since I’ve become pretty decent at stalking by this point, there’s a good chance I’ll find an underground facial recognition app at home. Either that, or I’ll send my PI to hunt for one.

“If you think I’m stitching up that ugly gash.” His lips twist in disgust. “The answer is, not tonight.”

“Mmm.”

“I said not. Tonight,” he snaps, grinding his teeth. “Consider this your punishment for interrupting a very important dinner.”

The man, apparently terrified of what he sees on Alaric’s face, rears his head back, his chest rising and falling in short bursts.

I, on the other hand, am tingling from head to toe. Alaric has such a unique, beautiful way of expressing his love for me, even when I’m not in the room.

“It would’ve been your only punishment, too, if I were in a generous mood.” He reaches over to the table he’s dragged closer to him and does the strange tap thing. “Spoiler. I’m not.”

A moment later, he strikes the man’s chest.

Hard.

His captive gasps violently. The duct tape over his mouth gets sucked in and stays there. Stuck.

He can’t breathe.

It becomes more evident when the man’s brown eyes bulge. When his face starts turning purple.

Alaric watches the scene unfold with complete indifference. His attention flickers from the man to the monitors, where the steady green lines falter, the peaks shrinking.

I would’ve shuddered at the sight of his vicious techniques if I didn’t know him.

I do, though. His intentions are good. He uses his power only against violent sickos.

There’s nothing scary about such a pure soul.

When the man’s eyes roll back, Alaric moves into action. I watch him with awe as he performs a forceful maneuver that makes his captive jolt, then breathe again.

Alaric is as casual as ever as he taps on the table, then walks over to scribble in his notebook.

“This is your last warning,” he says once he returns to the man. “Next time you try to escape, I’ll fuck you up so bad you’ll be begging me to kill you.”

The man whimpers. Alaric frowns, then lowers his gaze over his prisoner’s body until he reaches his crotch, where a dark spot has appeared.

He wet himself.

“Jesus Christ.” As soon as Alaric begins to undo the ropes around his ankles, I take it as my cue to run off before I get caught. “Didn’t realize you were such a coward.”

I smile to myself as I slap duct tape over the peephole, then hurry out of his building.

One day, Alaric and I will do this together.

One day.