No. Never.
At least mine had been haunting me for all of forever.
Glancing away, I took in the immaculate kitchen. By my estimate, it was the only part of the house that had been fully renovated.
It boasted massive, top-of-the-line appliances and rustic, white stone countertops, a huge worker’s island in the middle with an old-style pot rack hanging low from overhead.
A bit country and a lot chic.
But I thought the centerpiece of it all was where we were, at the huge round dining table that sat at least twenty people, tucked in the curved bank of windows that took up the whole back wall.
It overlooked the back porch and expansive lawn that rolled down a sloping embankment toward a copse of trees.
Right toward that babbling creek.
After what just happened, I was half inclined to fill the fucker up with rocks and sand.
Blot it out.
I roughed a hand through my hair, knowing I was digging, pushing in a way I shouldn’t. But I didn’t know how to stop.
I’d hopped on a train that would lead me straight to my destruction. But fuck, I guessed I’d been heading there all along. The only thing that counted now was doing a little good until I got there.
“There’s no money left?” I hedged, voice gravel. But I already knew the answer to that, didn’t I?
Her eyes squeezed shut, and she warred with what to tell me. When that chocolate sea fluttered open, I swore they were going to drown me.
Take me in.
Hold me under.
“No, Jace. There’s no money left. I thought . . .”
Confusion wound through her, and she stared at the wall over my shoulder with her brow pinched. Like it might hold the answer she was searching for.
“I thought we had plenty, and then when . . .”
She twisted her fingers together on her lap. I had the urge to haul her onto mine.
Fuck.
She peeked down at me, embarrassment lighting her cheeks. “When I went to make arrangements for the funeral, there was nothing there. The accounts had gone dry. I had to borrow from my parents to even give him a service.”
She looked out through the glittering windows, her voice getting lost in the room, so quiet when she whispered, “When it first happened, I couldn’t help but keep thinkin’, if I just hadn’t have sent him that day. I’d forgotten the milk, and he had to go back. If I’d just done that one thing differently, if I hadn’t been in such a hurry earlier that day, he’d still be here.”
Was that what he had really deluded her into believing?
That he was the good guy?
That he was in the wrong place at the wrong time?
The victim of some mindless robbery?
If he had gone fifteen minutes earlier or later, he wouldn’t have stumbled down the wrong path?
Didn’t she know he’d gone running down that path a long time ago?
It didn’t matter what time he’d gone. Where he’d gone. They would have found him.
My guts clenched.
Shit.
I didn’t know what was worse, her going on thinking that or me telling her the truth.
Shame had taken hold of her when she looked back at me. “Now, I don’t have any idea what to believe. I’m so confused . . . so scared. It wasn’t as if we had a perfect marriage.”
I flinched.
Not sure I could handle her even talking about it.
Still, I stayed silent, allowing her to continue even though the picture of them together made me want to stab a hot poker into my eye.
“But I at least thought he cared about us enough that he wouldn’t do anything that would harm us.”
As if she bore the blame, she looked down. “But after everything? The things that have been happening around us? I can’t help but question who he really was. And I hate that . . . hate questioning a man who isn’t even here to defend himself. Who isn’t here to explain. And . . . and . . . the only thing I have left of him is waiting on his life insurance policy to come through.”
Once she admitted it, urgency started to pour from her mouth. “How pathetic is that? His worth is now wrapped up in the little he left behind. What kind of person does that make me, Jace? Fighting for money I never even wanted? But I don’t know what else to do. It’s the only way I could ever get this place turned and profitable. With the case bein’ unsolved, it’s going to be tied up for a while, and we don’t have anything left. I’ve . . .”
She choked on the last, her head dropping between her shoulders. Like she needed to hide the expression on her face. “God, I shouldn’t be tellin’ you any of this.”
I reached out and took her by the chin. “Hey, look at me.”
Warily, she met my gaze.
I felt the weight of it strike right at the middle of me.
“What it makes you is strong. It makes you a fighter. It makes you a good mother who wants to take care of her child. It makes you brave. That’s the kind of person it makes you.”
The corner of her mouth trembled. “I just wish I could go back to that day and change it all.”
“You couldn’t, Faith.”
It was the truth.
There was nothing she could have done.
Changing it had been on me.
Silence moved around us. Comforting waves that ebbed and flowed, receding to reveal the hurt and gaping wounds oozing from underneath.
“Let me take care of you.” The words grated from my tongue.
She blinked at me. “Why did you really come here, Jace? After all this time? After all these years? What is it you want?”
You.
“I need to be here. I tri—”
The confession locked in my throat, and I swallowed hard, forcing it out between the constriction I could feel baring down on every cell in my body.
“I tried to stay away. But I couldn’t. Not knowing what’s happening. Not knowing what you’ve been through.”
Not knowing just how fucking deep Joseph had gotten. Not knowing the lengths those assholes might go to. I was getting a better and better idea of what that might be.
Protectiveness swelled.
An anger so intense I saw black curled through my muscles.
I could feel it, a wire tripping somewhere inside me, one of those pieces I’d been trying to keep contained, held back, ripped free.
No way in hell was I backing down from this. No way in hell was I walking away from her.
“I’m moving in.”
She reared back. “What?”
“You heard what I said.”
A heated anger rushed in to take over the helplessness. “Well, I thought I did . . . and what I think I just heard you say was you’re movin’ in here, and that’s not goin’ to happen.”
“You need someone here to look after you. Besides . . . there are what? Eight rooms here? You will hardly notice me, and someone needs to be here to watch over things.”
“And you think that job lands on you?” It was all a rushed horror as she pushed back her chair and stumbled to her feet.
Energy flashed.
So intense my chest tightened.
Painfully.
Protectiveness pulsing out. Filling everything.
“I think that’s exactly what it is.”
Harsh, hoarse laughter rocked from her, and she was biting at her lip like she wanted to bite back her words.
“You are the last person I want movin’ in here. I already told you, all of this is too hard. It feels too complicated. It’s hard enough you bein’ outside. You want to take up the inside, too?”
I edged closer, breathing in all that intensity.
Taking it on as my own.
Standing next to the girl felt like inhaling life.
Did she think this wasn’t going to be brutal for me, too?
My voice quieted, though it was hard as stone. “You aren’t safe here. You’re scared. You can’t deny that.”
I edged closer, and she edged back. She hit the wall behind her.
She was so close.
So damned close I wanted to take one step closer and feel all of her. What it was like to be against that skin.
Her words were so rough she could barely force them out. “Then I’ll call my daddy to come and stay.”
My fingers were back to toying with a lock of her hair, my head angled to the side. “Let me take care of you, Faith. Let me be the one.”