"More loving? Or more pain?"
"Both." He laid his head on her shoulder, near where his hand covered her, needing to know she wouldn't turn him away. She'd said it, but he needed to feel it skin on skin to believe it, to be bone-deep certain. "I found a guy, when we were looking for you and Pete. From back then. Only it's two years too late to send him up for what he did to me. Jackson said they found some younger guys willing to press charges. They want me to help dig the rest of these bastards out."
"Whatever you have to do, Eli. I'm with you."
He lifted his head to look at her. "Are you?"
"You know I am." Her fingers trailing down his cheek sent shivers to prickle his spine.
Eli studied her a minute before nodding and carefully placing his head where it was before. "Maybe you're right about a lot of what you said. But I'm no hero. I just did what had to be done."
She ran her fingers through his hair in that way that made him sleepy and aroused as hell both at once. "Isn't that the definition of a hero? Someone who does what's necessary to help others despite the risk? You've done that over and over again. Since you were still a child."
He eased his hand off her breast, sliding it down over her stomach to the dark hair still wet from their lovemaking. "I'm not so sure about that." He took pleasure in her sharp intake of air when his tongue flicked across her nipple at the same time his fingers found her sweet spot.
"I am." She rolled toward him, tugging his head up and settling herself against him. "You're my hero. My knight in black leather." Marilyn smiled as he looked up at her, astonished she would say such a thing. "I thought of you that way the first day we met. I just didn't know how true it was."
It wasn't true at all, the way he saw it. But she was here now, with him. And she wanted him. He took himself in hand and stroked his tip over her hidden bud. "Everything?"
Marilyn shuddered. "Yes."
Eli woke when the alarm went off, slapping the snooze button fast before it woke Marilyn too. She deserved the chance to sleep in, especially considering how little of it he'd allowed her last night. He smiled at the memory, rubbing a hand over his chest as he sat up and turned off the alarm.
She knew. Had known all along, and made love to him anyway. It still amazed him. Probably always would.
He pulled on some clothes and padded out of the bedroom to see if the boys were up. Steve was. Pete wasn't. As usual. Eli rousted the younger boy out and headed downstairs to fix breakfast. Frozen waffles. His specialty.
Steve made it downstairs first. Pete had a tendency to fool around if nobody kept on top of him. Eli set a glass of juice on the table for Steve and ran upstairs to chivvy Pete along. Usually he just called up to keep the kid moving, but today he didn't want to wake Marilyn.
When he came back down, Steve was putting the waffles on plates. His backpack sat next to the mudroom door as usual, but today, a half-full trash bag sat next to it.
Eli frowned. He could see colors through the thin white plastic of the bag-denim blue, T-shirt reds and blacks. Steve had stuffed all his clothes inside it. "You going someplace?" Eli asked.
Steve shrugged, sitting down at the table without meeting Eli's eyes. "Guess so."
"What? You decide you don't like it here?" Eli set the syrup bottle in front of him.
Now, Steve looked up. "I heard you and Marilyn last night. Fighting about me. Figured I'd be ready when you ship me out."
Eli barely managed to keep from swearing. He and Steve had been trying to break the habit. "It wasn't about you. It wasn't even a fight, exactly. It..."
"What was it, then?" Steve's gaze challenged him.
This time, Eli did swear. He put another waffle in the toaster so it would be ready when Pete finally showed up and sat down in the chair across from Steve, taking the other plate. He poured on syrup while he tried to figure out what to say.
"Yeah." Steve's voice was bitter. "That's what I thought."
"Shut up and listen." Eli slapped the syrup bottle down on the table. "I'm gonna say this one time and say it fast before Pete shows up. Before Flash got in the business, his old man ran things. And I was one of his boys. From when I was thirteen till I was almost seventeen, I was one of his boys, okay? And I didn't want Marilyn finding out.
"I figured she'd either hate me, or feel sorry for me, or kick me out, or maybe all three. She sure as hell wouldn't... Anyway, last night I found out she already knew. All along, she knew what I did, who I was. Who I am.
"And she likes me anyway. She thinks I'm a good person. If she can think that about me, when I was there almost four years, don't you think she can see the truth about you too? Because she's right. What happened isn't your fault. It wasn't my fault. It's all on those sick sons of bitches.
"Flash is in jail and he's not getting out, ever. If you want, we can talk to Jackson about putting away as many of those other bastards as we can.
"Just don't go thinking that if we knew the truth--the real truth--we wouldn't want you. Because we know. I know. There's nothing happened to you that didn't probably happen to me first. And we're going to make it. Don't give up on me. Deal? I
