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“He better.” She searches my face, waiting for me to lie. When she seems satisfied that I’m telling the truth, she continues eating. Zion rubs my thigh before he carries on eating.

We all eat while Gabriel and Louise talk the majority of the time. I keep waiting for her to ask why we’re two young kids on the run, or why he was in the woods while I was locked in a cage. I don’t know what I would tell her because I haven’t even told Zion the whole truth. He knows some of our past. But there’s so much to unpack, I can’t even find the words or strength to tell him.

“So are you two coming over for Christmas?” Louise asks later that evening while she and I clean the kitchen up. Gabriel and Zion both sit in the living room playing some sort of video game.

“Oh, I’m not sure. I mean, I don’t know if…”

“Dear, don't be so nervous. It’s usually just Zion and I, so I would love it if you both come with him. Plus, I’m sure he’ll either drag you with him or stay back with you.” She chuckles, rinsing off the dish before carefully handing it to me.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Wiping off the plate, I place it off to the side.

“Zion.” Louise says his name like it answers everything. It doesn’t though, it just raises more questions.

“I’m sorry, I’m not following along,” I mutter. I wait for her to call me stupid or anything negative for that matter. I almost flinch when Louise brushes against my arm.

“Izel,” she softly says. Lifting my head to hers, I’m shocked to see tears forming in her eyes as she cups her hands against her chest. “Someone hurt you, didn’t they?”

I don’t know if this is a rhetorical question or what, but it causes my eyes to water. I don’t have to answer her question either because she’s nodding her head, brushing her tears away.

“Zion cares for you deeply. No, don’t you dare protest. I’ve never seen him with another woman, even when he was a kid. There was one girl. Aziza, I’m not sure if he ever brought her up, but they were best friends, and she was completely in love with his best friend Killian. I’m not entirely sure what happened to them. Zion, love my son, but he doesn’t handle his feelings very well sometimes. So, you, my dear, are the first girl I’ve ever seen him with. And don’t think I don’t know what you two were doing before I showed up.”

Light my face on fire. Because that's what it feels like. I’m embarrassed that she’s bringing that up. And even more embarrassed that I’m once again doubting Zion’s feelings for me. What am I supposed to do, tell him to get my name tattooed on his body?

“And from the way he’s looking at you right now, I’d say he wants a repeat of the kitchen island.” Louise laughs.

I spin around, and sure enough Zion is staring at me. I clench my thighs together, nearly counting down the minutes until I can have a repeat of that kitchen island too.

Zion

Later that evening after convincing Ma to finally leave, Izel stands in front of me as I work the shampoo into her red hair. “What did Ma say to you?” I ask, massaging the base of her neck.

“She invited us to Christmas.” Izel hums.

“Here, rinse,” I tell her, helping her get rid of the soap suds. Moving her back, I grab the conditioner bottle. “You looked worried.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what feelings Izel has at a certain time. She’s easy to read.

“There was more discussion than her just asking you to Christmas dinner, Red,” I murmur against her shoulder, pressing a kiss before slightly sucking on her skin.

Izel moans, trying to turn her body towards me.

“Rinse,” I order. Doing as she's told, her hair is rinsed clean before I grab the body wash.

“Why are you washing me?” Izel glances at me over her shoulder.

Shrugging my shoulders, I continue working the cloth over her skin, making sure to wash every single part of her. My eyes snag on the scars across her stomach. Kneeling down, I press my lips against them. My tongue darts out, I lick the words that shouldn’t be carved into her skin.

“Zion…” Izel moans, her hands grip my hair.

“What did Ma talk to you about?” Gripping her hips, I hold her still.

“It doesn’t matter.” Izel tries to drag my head back to her stomach. One thing I know about this girl is physical touch is her love language. And the one thing that I love doing is touching her.

“It matters.” I tighten my grip on her hips. I know I'm leaving bruises.

“She said you love me.”

“I do.” I make sure my eyes latch onto hers. I know she doubts my feelings, but I won’t have it.