Chapter 29
Chapter twenty-nine
Eden
“Something Good”
The silence in the hotel room was suffocating while I sat on the edge of the bed with my arms wrapped around my knees, wearing the t-shirt I’d pulled on with trembling hands.
My skin still tingled where he’d touched me like he wanted me and needed this, but then he’d disappeared into the bathroom and left me alone in the aftermath.
The sound of running water had stopped a few minutes ago, and there had been no movement since. Just that heavy and endless quiet.
My heartbeat felt too loud in my ears. I couldn’t tell what I was supposed to feel.
Humiliation, anger, maybe shame – but mostly, it was just ache.
In my chest, ache in my legs, ache between them: raw and trembling from how close I’d come to something that felt like everything.
He left me teetering on a cliff edge, and I didn’t know how to climb back.
I stared at the door. Part of me wanted to go to it, knock softly, whisper something through the crack.
Tell me you’re still in there. Tell me I didn’t imagine what just happened.
Because I’d seen the look in his eyes when he pulled away.
He hated himself for giving in, and whatever passed between us was a mistake he was already trying to erase.
The bathroom door opened and I jerked my head up so fast it made my neck ache.
He stepped out into the room, shoulders tense.
His hands were bleeding. How many times would he split open his knuckles?
His eyes met mine, and my gut wrenched. He looked at me with the uncertainty of a man who didn’t know whether to run or fall to his knees; the war inside him hadn’t ended in that bathroom.
I stood slowly, heart pounding. I didn’t speak because I didn’t trust my voice not to crack.
His gaze dropped, and he scrubbed a hand over his face like he wanted to peel it off and start over.
“I hurt you,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, “not like that.”
“But I will.” His voice was raw, as if each word cost him something. “I don’t know how to make you understand. I will. That’s who I am.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s who you think you have to be.”
He looked at me like I was speaking a language he’d never heard.
“Why aren’t you angry?” he asked.
I was. I was furious, hurt, confused. None of that could compete with the truth twisting in my chest. I felt for him, wanted him. Not just the way he kissed me, or the way he looked at me when he let his walls slip. I wanted all of it. Even the part he thought I should run from.
“I should be,” I said, “but I’m not.”
He flinched as though it hurt to hear that.
His brow furrowed with something too heavy for one man to carry. I stepped forward slowly, and he didn’t move. He didn’t even breathe.
I reached for his hand, and he didn’t pull away, not this time.
I lifted it to look at the angry red slices across his knuckles. He watched me in silence, gaze pinned to mine like he was afraid I would vanish if he blinked.
“You can’t keep doing this,” I whispered, “can’t keep tearing yourself apart every time you feel something.”
“I have to.” His voice cracked, barely audible. “It’s the only way I know how to survive.”
“Maybe,” I said softly, “it’s time to learn something else.”
He closed his eyes, just for a second. Like he couldn’t bear to look at me while I handed him another piece of my heart.
When he opened them again, I saw the man I wasn’t ready to give up on.
For the first time, I saw the faintest crack in his armor.
Not weakness, just human. I held on to that, even as I braced myself for the moment he might shove me away again.
Even if he did, I wouldn’t forget the way he’d looked at me.
In the silence that followed, I wasn’t sure what I expected from him. Maybe a lie, to make me feel better, or some broken apology muttered through clenched teeth. But there was nothing.
“What happens after this?” I asked.
His eyes flicked up, brow barely lifting. “After what?”
“All of this. After you find the men you’re looking for.”
There was a pause. “We keep moving.”
“No. After we, Halo. What happens to me?”
He hesitated just long enough for doubt to start blooming in my chest like something volatile. His expression didn’t change, but I saw the calculation in his eyes. He was assessing what version of the truth I could handle.
“I don’t know what you want from me. One minute you’re holding me like I’m the only thing keeping you grounded, and the next you’re stonewalling me like I’m in your way.”
“I told you, I’m not good for you.”
“I’m not asking for perfect.”
He stared at me for a long moment, then let out a slow exhale and looked down at the floor.
“So what happens when your revenge is over? When the list is empty?”
He didn’t blink. “I make sure you’re free, that you’re safe.”
“And what about you?”
“I disappear. That is what you need to remember. I can’t give you anything after this is done.
I know it hurts you; it fucking hurts me.
It will sting for a while, but you’re going to wake up one day and realize I never belonged in the light you live in, and it won’t hurt as bad anymore.
I will never be safe for you, I have too many demons…
Some of them are very real, and I can’t risk them getting to you. ”
That made something cold settle in my chest. I closed my eyes, trying to avoid tears in front of him. I was too damn emotional for this bullshit.
“You say you don’t want to hurt me,” I said, voice quieter now, “but all you’re doing is keeping me in the dark, pushing me back when I try to be close. And then, when you can’t hold it in anymore, you come apart all over me.”
I could see the shame ripple through him like a pulse. He agreed but couldn’t admit it out loud. I could tell.
“I don’t want to be the place you fall apart,” I went on. “I want to be the place you fall into.”
His eyes closed for a beat. Just long enough for me to see how much that landed like a blade to his gut.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he muttered, barely audible. “I can’t do this.”
I stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until I was right in front of him. He didn’t move.
“You keep trying to carry everything alone,” I said. “Like there’s something noble about self-destruction. But it’s not noble, Halo. It’s just lonely.”
His mouth opened like he might argue, but no words came, just that same haunted stare, the one that said he was already halfway out the door even if his body hadn’t moved.
I reached out, fingers grazing his forearm.
“You let yourself have me,” I said, voice trembling, “even for just a second. And now you’re punishing yourself for it. I’m not asking you for forever. I’m not even asking you to stay.”
His gaze locked on mine, wary and wide. I thought I saw some kind of relief in his eyes. What I’d said wasn’t entirely true; I did want him to stay and I did want as much of him as he’d give me… but if I had to take it a day at a time, feeding him pieces so he didn’t choke, then I would.
“I just want to make you feel good,” I said.
“Not because I owe you and not because you need it but because I want to. I don’t care if it’s not sex.
It doesn’t have to be, but you have to let me have this, Halo.
You have to let me touch something real before you disappear.
I want to give you something good, something that isn’t pain, something that’s yours. ”
For a second, he looked like he might bolt again.
Then, to my surprise, like it took everything in him to do it, he slowly sat down on the edge of the bed.
I moved without hesitation, sinking to my knees in front of him, not to beg, not to submit, but to meet him where he was.
I had to claim this moment back from the spiral.
He didn’t stop me, and he didn’t speak. He just looked down at me, uncertain in a way I’d never seen before.
His thighs were tense under my hands. I could feel how tightly wound he was, like his body was waiting for me to change my mind, to pull away any second and leave him alone with whatever darkness he thought he deserved.
But I didn’t. I reached up and unbuttoned his pants, slow and deliberate. He didn’t stop me, but he didn’t help either, just watched with that hollow intensity. It was like he wasn’t sure this was real or maybe that he didn’t think he should be allowed to enjoy it.
I brushed my fingers along the waistband of his pants, and when he reached up to grab my wrist, I looked up at him. He stopped, hand still poised in the air over mine.
“It’s okay,” I said softly. “Let me.”
His jaw ticked, but he lifted his hips just enough for me to slide everything down until he was bare in front of me.
I tried to not look surprised because I don’t know exactly what I expected.
The rest of him was sickeningly perfect so it only made sense that his cock would be a work of fucking art too.
When I wrapped my hands around him, he still didn’t say anything.
I leaned in slowly, giving him every chance to pull away and to stop me. He didn’t.
When I took him into my mouth, his breath hitched, sharp and involuntary.
I went slow, careful, letting him feel every inch of contact, every deliberate motion of my tongue.
My hand worked what my mouth couldn’t reach, and I felt every quiet gasp he tried not to make.
His fingers knotted in the bedding, but he didn’t touch me. Maybe he didn’t trust himself.
I wanted to show him he didn’t have to be afraid of this, of me. That he could want something without it turning to ash in his hands.
When I pulled back just enough to swirl my tongue around the tip of him, he groaned, and that sound hit me like a jolt straight to my core. It was the first truly honest sound I’d heard from him, unguarded and human. He was shaking.
“Eden,” he rasped, like my name hurt to say, “you don’t have to…”
“I want to,” I whispered, stroking him again, mouth wet and open against his skin. “Let me give you this.”
Something in him finally relented, not violently but like a dam breaking.
He leaned back on his elbows, head tilted slightly, and let go.
His entire body relaxed. I worked him with steady, rhythmic care, letting his body tell me what it needed with every pulse and shift of his hips, every low groan that slipped past his defenses.
I wanted to give him this, not as a transaction, not as a seduction, but as a gift.
“Tell me how you like it?” I asked before sliding my lips back across him again.
“That’s good, just like that... You’re perfect,” he whispered, voice strained behind his short breaths.
He came with a low, desperate sound that vibrated through his whole body, one hand finally sliding into my hair as he tensed beneath me, throbbing as he spilled into my mouth. I swallowed every drop, not breaking eye contact as I pulled back, wiping the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand.
His chest heaved like he’d run a mile. He looked as though he didn’t know whether to thank me or apologize. Suddenly, he stood and stumbled to get around me as he struggled with his pants.
“I… I need a second,” he said, voice rough. “I’ll be right back.”
I nodded, trying not to let the sting of his retreat show. I stood slowly and climbed into the bed, curling beneath the covers, the ache between my legs still humming but quieter now. I watched the door to the bathroom shut behind him and listened to the faucet run.
I shifted beneath the sheets and stared at the ceiling, wondering if I’d done something wrong. I reminded myself that this was a long game, and this was a tiny victory. I was getting somewhere, and that was enough right now.