His pale blue eyes stare into hers and she knows he is lying.
"Your father wasn't responsible for me going to jail," he says, his face a benign mask.
He looks her directly in the eye when he does it. She is neither surprised nor disappointed. She expects it.
She thinks he may be the only person who ever truly loved her even as the lie leaves his lips. He protects her with his words just as he would with his battered body.
Back when she still 'believed' in souls and sacrifice, she'd know Crews would lay down his life and sacrifice his eternal soul for her. But that was back when she believed, back when she thought she knew...something, anything, herself.
She knows because she lies too.
She lies when she says she doesn't care.
He knows instantly, with one glimpse into the depths of the windows to her soul. She doesn't believe him when he says Rachel is a friend of the family – what family? He has none, none but her. Jealousy colors her rich dark eyes with shards of damning green. She'll never admit she cares, but he knows.
He knows from what's missing when he wakes in the hospital. The phantom of a memory in his muscle, gentle warmth in his cold detached world; her small tanned hand entwined with his until he awoke. He feels her there even after she leaves.
She trusts him with her life because he never lies about anything – unless it is truly important.
He trusts her with his heart because he knows she won't take it – so she can never break it.