Chapter 12
LILLITH
Lillith woke up before him and lay there for a second, staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the cabin like it was something alive.
The world outside was still dark, that weird in-between hour where nothing felt real yet.
For a second, she forgot everything—where she was, why she was there, who she was hiding with. Then she felt him beside her.
Tank’s arm was draped low across her waist, heavy and warm, like he’d fallen asleep without realizing he’d done it.
Her breath caught, and she slowly and carefully turned her head to look at him.
He was out. He wasn’t half-awake or watching the door like he usually did.
He was sleeping, and that might’ve been the most dangerous thing she’d seen yet, because Tank didn’t sleep.
Not really—not like this. Not deep enough to not notice everything.
Lillith studied him, her chest tightening in a way she didn’t want to think too hard about.
His face was softer like this. Less guarded.
The tension that usually lived in his jaw wasn’t there anymore.
He looked vulnerable, not like the guy who was always one step away from running, and not like the man who dragged her into the middle of something dark and complicated.
He was just a man. Her man. No, she couldn’t think of him that way. Lillith shut that thought down fast.
“Don’t start,” she whispered to herself.
Because that was how girls like her got mixed up in places that they didn’t belong.
Still, her fingers moved before her brain could stop them.
She brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead.
The second she touched him, his hand tightened on her waist. Like he was moving by instinct.
As though even asleep, he knew she was there, and didn’t want to let her go.
Lillith swallowed. Yeah—she was already in trouble.
Tank shifted, his brows pulling together slightly before his eyes opened.
He focused on her—always on her. “Morning,” she said softly, trying to sound casual like she hadn’t just been staring at him like a creep.
He didn’t answer right away; he just looked at her as though he was taking her in.
“Is there something on my face?” she teased, even though her heart was doing stupid things again.
His thumb brushed against her side, slow, absent. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Trouble.”
She smiled. “Took you long enough to figure that out.” He smiled at her, really smiled, and God, she liked it way too much. Tank pushed himself up onto one elbow, the sheet slipping low on his hips, and Lillith’s brain immediately forgot how to function.
“You sleep?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said. “Better than I expected.”
“That’s because you don’t know how bad it can get yet.” There it was—the reminder. It was the reality of who he was and what followed him. Lillith pushed herself up, too, the sheet sliding with her, but she didn’t bother fixing it. Let him look.
“You always gotta ruin the mood?” she asked. His gaze dropped to take in her body, and lingered longer than it should have, making her feel way too hot.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I do.” Something in her chest tightened because that wasn’t him being difficult. It was him being honest. And for some reason, that hit harder.
“I’ll make us some breakfast before we head into town,” he offered. He got out of bed and pulled on his boxers. God, he made her mouth water.
“I’ll take a quick shower and be down in a few minutes,” she said, not sure that he heard her. Tank was already out the door and heading down the hallway as though he didn’t care what she planned to do next. His walls were back in place, and that just plain pissed her off.
“Two can play at this game, Tank,” she whispered to herself. If he wasn’t going to play nicely, then she wouldn’t either. One thing Lillith had learned about herself over the years was that she could give as good as she got.
The tension was back. It was the kind that sat low and simmered in her tummy.
She hated that feeling because it made everything feel bigger than it actually was.
Every time Tank looked at her, she thought that she’d burst into flames.
When he handed her the plate of eggs and bacon he had made her, brushing her hand with his own, she nearly swooned, and she didn’t fucking swoon over any man.
What was it about this man that made her want things she never did before?
He made her feel more than she wanted to feel, and that was dangerous.
Even more dangerous than the men who were after them.
Lillith leaned against the counter, watching him like she had nothing better to do as he finished making the toast. Honestly, she didn’t have anything better to do. They ate in complete silence, and when they finished, Tank stood up and took her dishes.
“I can do those,” she offered.
“No need,” he insisted. They were the first words that he had said to her since he left the bedroom earlier. She watched Tank as he stood at the sink with his sleeves pushed up, washing a plate like it had personally offended him.
“You know,” she said casually, “for someone who doesn’t stay anywhere, you’re awfully comfortable playing house.” His shoulders stilled for half a second, but then kept moving.
“That’s not what this is,” he breathed.
“Sure looks like it,” she pushed.
“It’s not,” he insisted.
She smiled slightly. “You keep saying that.” He slowly turned to face her, but she didn’t back down. She liked to say that her tenacity was her best and worst quality.
“And you keep pushing,” he said.
“Maybe I like what I find when I do,” she shot back. It was the only way to tear down his walls, so she’d keep pushing him for as long as it took.
Tank dried his hands slowly, tossing the towel aside like he needed something to do with them. “Lillith—”
“What?” she cut in, stepping closer. “You’re going to tell me again how this is a bad idea? How I deserve better? How you’re not the guy for me?” His jaw tightened, and she knew that she hit a nerve. “Because you’ve said all that already,” she continued. “And yet, here we are.”
She was close now, but neither of them moved. Neither of them stepped back. “Why do you keep trying?” he asked quietly.
Lillith tilted her head. “You really want to ask me that?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I do.”
Her expression softened just a fraction. “Because I don’t run from things that matter,” she said.
Tank looked away first. “And what happens when being with me gets you hurt?” he asked. “Or worse.”
Lillith stepped closer, closing that last inch of space between them. “What if my being with you doesn’t end up getting me hurt or killed? What if being together makes us both happy?” she asked. It was a loaded question, but she didn’t care.
Something seemed to snap inside of him. Tank’s hand came up, gripping her hip like he couldn’t stop himself anymore, pulling her into him—hard and fast, like he’d been holding back and finally lost the fight.
“Jesus,” he muttered against her mouth before kissing her again.
But this time, there was nothing hesitant about it.
There was nothing careful about the kiss, and Tank didn’t hold back.
Lillith melted into him instantly, her hands sliding up his chest, gripping him like she needed him to anchor her just as much as he seemed to need her.
Because somewhere between running and staying, they’d both already made their choice.
They just hadn’t said it out loud yet, and that might cost them each something, but she could feel it.
Her mind was made up. She wanted Tank, and there was no stopping her from taking what she wanted now that his walls were down.
Four more days had passed, and the walls felt as though they were starting to close in.
It wasn’t in a dramatic horror movie kind of way.
It was just quiet—too quiet. There was no noise, people, or distractions, and it was starting to make her skin crawl.
It was just her and Tank and everything that they weren’t saying.
Every night, he took her to bed and made love to her like he was a starving man.
Every morning, she woke up hoping to go into town to get a phone to call Ember, and every morning, Tank woke up with an excuse as to why they couldn’t make the trip.
Lillith stood at the small window, staring out at nothing but trees and more trees, her arms crossed as she bounced slightly on her heels.
“I’m going to lose my mind out here,” she muttered to herself. Behind her, Tank didn’t look up from whatever he was doing with the truck keys.
“You’re safe out here, and that’s all that matters,” he said.
“Yeah, and bored out of my skull,” she shot back. “I didn’t sign up for witness protection in the woods.”
“You didn’t sign up for any of this,” he said flatly.
“Exactly,” she said, spinning to face him. “Which means I shouldn’t have to just sit here and do nothing while you decide everything.” His jaw tightened, and she noticed that was becoming a theme whenever they discussed leaving the cabin.
“We’re not going into town,” he said.
“We are,” she countered.
“No.”
“Yes.” She had a feeling that the two of them were stubborn enough to keep that up all day. Lillith crossed her arms over her chest and sank dramatically into the sofa.
“You don’t get a vote on this,” he said. Lillith blinked over at him and laughed. That seemed to piss him off, which was fine with her.
“Wow,” she said slowly. “That’s bold. You really think that’s how this works?”
“It is when your safety is on the line,” he spat.
“And my sanity?” she snapped. “Because I’m about five minutes from climbing these walls.”
Tank dragged a hand down his face. “Lillith—”
“No,” she cut him off. “You don’t get to drag me out here, keep me in the dark, and then expect me to just sit quietly like a good little girl.”
His eyes flashed. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” she challenged.