Page 68 of Ceremony of Lust

“No, Yael,” he says, his voice firm. “It’s better if you don’t know.”

I shift, turning to face him, letting him see the hurt he’s caused. “It’ll kill me if you don’t tell me.”

He inhales, holds his breath for a beat, and then exhales slowly. “I’m their muscle. I shake down their tenants for rent when they’re late. I handle any disagreements they might have, making sure the outcomes are always favorable. I make women disappear—”

“What does that mean? You kill them?”

“No, Yael. I give them money to go away and stay away.”

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

He shakes his head. “No, never.”

“But you carry a gun?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Why do you need it?”

“To protect myself. And sometimes, to persuade someone.”

Our voices never get louder than a whisper, and while I appreciate Zev’s honesty, I wonder who exactly I married. “Is that all you do?”

“No,” he says so low I barely hear him.

“I want to hear all of it, Zev.”

His eyes flick up to mine, and there’s fear in his gaze. He scoots closer, gliding his hand along the slope of my hip. His head dips, and his lips are nothing more than a whisper across the sensitive skin below my ear. “What if it makes you hate me, Yael?”

Now I understand the look in his eye. He’s not afraid to tell me the truth; he’s afraid to lose me. I’m frightened of losing him, too.

“It’s a risk we both have to take,” I say, swallowing down another wave of nausea.

His eyes close, and he sighs. “I’ve never killed a man, and I don’t sell drugs, but that doesn’t mean I’m not complicit in crimes.”

I swallow, not sure if I want to hear anymore, but I hate being kept in the dark. I want to be a good wife, to help ease the burden I see him carrying day after day. “What kind of crimes?”

“Rape,” he says, his voice barely audible. “Some of the men in our community are violent. They hurt women, and I’m sent in to take care of it. Clean up the evidence, pay the women to disappear, make sure none of them press charges. I’m paid to be their nightmare, to mentally torture them until they relent. Some women want to forget, and others want to fight back. It makes me sick sometimes, thinking about what I’ve done, but I’ve kept proof of every crime they’ve committed, of every crime I’ve covered up.”

“But if you go public, won’t you implicate yourself? Couldn’t you go to jail too?”

The thought of being without Zev, of seeing him in prison because he was a puppet in a well-orchestrated play, is like a sharp punch to the gut. But it’s also hard knowing the truth of what he’s done. What if we had never been matched and Anders got his hands on me? Would he have played a part in my demise?

“Yes, I could,” he says solemnly. “The thought of being away from you terrifies me. That’s why I went to see Fraser, to make sure you’re protected.”

“Zev—"

He holds a trembling finger up to my lips. “Don’t say it, Yael. I know what it must look like to you, but I’m trying to change. Believe me. No more Zev the Wolf. I was foolish when I was younger, and I wasn’t thinking. I never thought I’d be matched with someone like you, someone so pure and innocent. If I did, I would never have made a deal with one devil, let alone seven. I’m going to free myself of their chains, and I’m going to make myself worthy of you. I promise.”

With a hand on his cheek, I ask the only question that matters. “What if you already are?”

38

Zev

I awaketo the muffled sounds of my wife throwing up in the bathroom. She’s been sick for days, most often at night, and I’m starting to worry. I push aside the comforter, swing my legs over the edge of the bed, and pad across the room toward the bathroom. The door is shut, but a soft light glows from underneath.

I knock gently. “Yael? Sweetheart, are you okay?”