She lifted her head, dread heavy in her heart as she slowly lifted her gaze to Wade’s.

“That’s who I am, Wade. I’m not special. I don’t stand for what’s right. And I’m not rare or precious. The woman I just described? That’s who and what I am. Can you honestly stand there and tell me that’s the kind of woman you’d want any part of? The kind of woman you’d want in your life?”

“Eliza?”

She swallowed and glanced up again fearfully. In agony over what she’d see in his eyes. Bracing herself for the inevitable rejection and judgment she found in the eyes of so many others.

“Don’t say another goddamn word,” Wade said in a clearly pissed off tone. “Jesus, woman. You still don’t get it.”

Her gaze turned to bewilderment as she searched his face for some clue of what he was thinking. And what was it she still didn’t get? She opened her mouth to ask but he growled low in his throat and framed her face between his hands. His gaze was piercing but no longer angry. There was frustration, worry and something else she was afraid to examine too closely because it did funny things to her heart and she had the sudden urge to run, to hide. To do what she was best at and avoid allowing people in. That something in his eyes that suddenly made her question her assessment of herself scared her and thrilled her all at the same time as she waited, not even breathing, for what he was going to say next.

“Not. Another. Fucking. Word. I’ve had enough of the shit that isn’t even close to being true coming out of your mouth. You’re going to have to give me a minute because I’m so pissed off right now I don’t even know how or where to begin responding to that load of garbage you just spouted. The only thing keeping me from losing my shit and turning you over my knee and spanking your ass is the fact that you actually believe every single word you said, and I don’t know how to make you see it for the utter nonsense it is and that really pisses me off because it hurts you and goddamn it, it hurts me to watch you judge yourself, condemn yourself and stand there saying that you’re no better than that piece of shit pathetic excuse for a human being while I have to stand here and watch you bleed right in front of me. But as God as my witness, baby, I’m going to make you see the truth. And not your fucked up version of the truth. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to find a way to make you see the Eliza that I see when I look at you. To know the Eliza that I know and admire and have more respect for than I do any other living person.”

She stared wordlessly at him, too overwhelmed to say anything. What could she say to that? He was staring at her like she was the only person in the world—his world. His words, each and every one of them, she committed to memory, savoring and holding them close to her heart where they’d all remain safe and untainted, touched by no one. No one could ever take them away from her. They were hers, given to her, and they meant everything to her.

No one had ever looked at her with so much caring and fierceness, with so much possession and protectiveness there in their eyes for the world to see. No attempt to disguise it, pretend it didn’t mean anything or that he hadn’t meant any of the things he’d said.

“I can see that maybe I’m finally getting through,” Wade said gruffly. “Maybe now you’re getting it. You mean something to me. You. And that means all of you, not just the parts you want me to see while you hide the parts you’re so determined to be ashamed of and feel guilt over. You’re mine, Eliza. All of you. Every inch of you, body and soul. And it wasn’t just your body that I claimed when I made love to you and was inside you so deep that there will never be a time you don’t feel me. I also claimed your heart, your soul, your mind and everything that makes you the person you are and what you were meant to be. And what you were meant to be is mine.”

Tears made him go blurry in her vision as she stared at him in wonder, afraid to believe. Afraid not to believe. Wanting so much and yet so scared that she’d never have what she wanted most. That this was all just a dream. The most beautiful dream she’d ever had.

“Wade, I have to do this,” she choked out. “Please believe me. I’m not trying to be a vigilante or a lone wolf, determined to go it by myself so I don’t involve the people I love. You’re already involved. I’m not walking blind into a situation nor am I planning to do anything stupid. But I need to do this. For me, Wade. For me. Not for him or anyone else. Not even for the women who died because of his sick obsession with me. I have to get something back that he took from me because until I have it, I can never give all of me to anyone else. I need you to understand and more than anything I need your support and the knowledge that you’ll have my back so I can walk into that press conference with my head held high and then look him in the eye so he knows he no longer has me. I can accept not being the one to take him down. I can accept not dispensing justice that is rightfully mine to dispense. But I cannot accept not being able to at least face the monster who has controlled me for so fucking long because I let him. Even after he no longer had the ability to manipulate, I still let him affect my choices, my decisions and my happiness. I shut myself off and never allowed anyone in because of him. Because he taught me that I couldn’t trust anyone. He was fucking wrong and I will never be able to put him completely behind me and heal until I can look him in the eye and let him know he did not win.”

“I’m sorry,” Wade said, sorrow brimming in his eyes.

She stared at him, stunned. What on earth was he sorry for? It was the very last thing she’d expected him to say.

He caressed her face, holding it in his hands as he stared down at her, fierce pride replacing the sorrow.

“I was wrong,” he said simply. “And I was being no better than the bastard who took your choices from you all those years ago. I was doing the same goddamn thing and I’m sorry, Eliza. I didn’t realize how important this is to you. I couldn’t see past my blinding need to keep you safe. My fear of something happening to you. I didn’t recognize that he did so much damage to you. Damage that you’re still healing from. And you need closure. You need to know you beat him. I get that. I do. I don’t want you there. I’d much rather you be where I know you’re safe, where I can keep you from ever being hurt again. But I understand why you need to do this and I support you, baby. And for the record, I will always have your back.”