Page 288 of His To Erase

I think I’m crying again. But honestly? I’m not sure I ever stopped.

He crouches in front of me—and that’s the moment I break wide open. It’s not the black in his gaze that wrecks me, it’s the way he looks at me that has me melting, and forgetting my name.

He slides his arms around me, picking me up, and stands. He carries me inside, Bern trailing behind us, and sets me gently on the couch like I might break if he moves too fast. Then he crouches in front of me again, hand dragging down his face as he exhales.

“So,” he says casually, “are we going to talk about the part where you committed arson, or the part where you almost married a mafia psychopath?”

My brain short-circuits and I laugh out loud. It escapes before I can stop it—this borderline hysterical noise that tumbles out of my ribcage. And of course, I cry harder.

“You’re such a dick.”

He shrugs. “Yeah. But I’m your dick.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Not quite.” He leans in. “But someone told me I have a God complex, if that helps.”

And just like that, I forget how to breathe. I know he’s joking—but the truth’s wrapped in every word. This man would gut the universe if it meant putting me back together. And if I think about it, that’s what he’s done since we met.

“You scared the shit out of me, Ani.” His voice drops. “When I saw you in his house... when I realized he had you—” His jaw flexes like the memory physically hurts him to talk about. Then I see the rage flash through his eyes.

“I thought you were dead,” I whisper, cutting him off.

“I was.” He says it like it’s no big deal. Which is exactly why it is. “Until I saw you.”

I blink like that’ll stop the tears, but I’m sobbing all over again.

He grabs my hands. “From the second I saw you,” his eyes lock onto mine. “Even when I hated it. Even when I told myself you were just part of the job. You were the only thing I wanted that scared the shit out of me.”

I wipe at my face, still falling apart. “You really picked a mess, huh?”

“I’m not asking for easy.” His thumb drags over my knuckles. “I’m asking for real.”

And just like that—I lose what little composure I had left. It pours out of me in quiet waves, shaking through my shoulders as I let my head fall forward until it rests against his.

“I hate how much I love you,” I mutter.

“Too bad,” he says quietly. “Because I decided you were mine on the ladder.”

I laugh—but it’s wet and ungraceful. “I’m a disaster.”

He leans in, brushing his mouth against my jaw. “Still mine.”

Then he kisses me. Nothing in the world could stop my pussy from being turned on right now. His lips are on mine and when he finally pulls back, he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “I meant what I said, we’re gonna have to talk about your communication skills.”

“Excuse me?”

“You disappeared without telling anyone where you were going. You burned down a building and you walked into a mafia wedding with no backup?—”

“I did have backup,” I snap. “My rage and unresolved trauma came with me, thank you very much.”

That criminal grin tugs at his mouth—the same one that ruined me before I even knew his name.

“I’m serious, Ani. As much as I want to fuck you right now—I need to know you’re actually okay. We need to talk. With words.”

“Wow. Feelings and accountability?” I arch a brow, trying to hide the way my heart’s suddenly thudding. “You really are trying to wife me up.”

He gives a short laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His hands are still on me, like he’s bracing for whatever I might throw at him next.