Chapter 218

Chapter 218:

A chill that had nothing to do with the wind moved through her. “Every week p>

“Aye. Pays for the fresh lilies himself. Talks to them for hours.” Henderson chuckled, as though sharing a sweet story. “Mostly about you, miss. How he’s keeping you safe. How he’s fixing your mistakes. How hard it is to raise you right p>

Dallas stiffened beside her. Eliza could feel the heat radiating off him.

“He told them he was going to marry you,” Henderson added. “Asked for their blessing last week. Said he’d finally broken you enough to mold you.” He tipped his cap and walked away, oblivious to what he had just said.

Eliza stood very still. Anson hadn’t just been controlling her in life. He had been standing over her parents’ grave, reporting to them — narrating his ownership of her as though they had sanctioned it. It wasn’t devotion. It was a shrine to his control.

“He’s been here,” she whispered. “Every week. Talking to them p>

She looked at the grave. The fresh lilies Anson had placed there suddenly looked like chains. Like bars on a cage.

“It’s not love,” she said, her voice trembling with rage. “It’s sickness p>

She grabbed the lilies. The stems snapped in her hands. She marched to the nearby trash bin and hurled them in.

“I don’t want his flowers on them,” she cried, turning to Dallas. “I don’t want his stain on them p>

“We’ll replace them,” Dallas said, stepping close. “With roses. Every week. I’ll bring them myself p>

𝖶е 𝘂𝘱𝗱a𝘁𝘦 𝗲𝘃e𝗿𝘆 𝘸𝖾e𝗸 o𝘯

“He’s everywhere, Dallas. I can’t breathe.” Eliza’s hands flew to her throat. “He’s in the ground. He’s in the air p>

“I’ve got you,” Dallas said. Without hesitation, he swept her up into his arms. “Just breathe p>

He carried her out of the cemetery, past the silent watching eyes of the stone angels. Eliza buried her face in his neck and inhaled the scent of him, trying to drown out Anson’s ghost.

From his car, Anson watched Dallas carry Eliza away. His gaze fell to the trash bin and the broken lilies inside it.

He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles cracked.

“She threw away my flowers,” he muttered.

She rejects my penance. His eyes went flat, emptied of anything human.

He started the engine. “If I can’t have her peace, I’ll have her chaos p>

Dallas settled Eliza gently into the passenger seat and closed the door. “We’re leaving,” he said. “Somewhere he can’t find us p>

Dallas drove fast. The speedometer climbed as they hit the highway, putting miles between them and the cemetery.

Eliza was curled in the passenger seat, staring at the dashboard.

“He dedicated ten years to them. To me,” she murmured. The guilt was a reflex — a habit Anson had installed in her long ago.

Dallas’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Dedication isn’t ownership, El p>

“I know. But… it makes me feel like I owe him. Like I’m ungrateful,” Eliza admitted.