Authors: Christy Reece
Ethan threw the covers off and stared up at the ceiling. No sleeping tonight. After that interlude with Shea, he couldn’t think of anything else other than the need to go into her room and finish what they had started. How he wanted her. And she’d been willing. That was the amazing part. After the hell she’d been through, after what he’d said to her, he’d feared that she’d never be able to abide his touch. But she’d been warmly responsive. More than that … she’d practically exploded in his arms.
He hadn’t been able to take it further, though. Seeing Cole’s face. Knowing that at any moment she would remember … how was he going to explain why he hadn’t told her? A lame excuse that the doctor thought it was best wasn’t going to fly with her. She would know better.
Keeping the truth from her no longer made sense. Shea was well on her way to recovery. Her memories were returning on their own. Her health had improved tremendously in the last few of weeks. Hell, she’d endured remembering her childhood with more strength and courage than he’d thought possible. Shea was a strong woman. She could handle hearing about Cole.
So why the hell hadn’t he told her? She would hate him again, yes. But that wasn’t the number one reason. If he told her … if she realized everything he’d done … she would try to leave. He knew she would leave anyway at some point, but only after Rosemount was captured. Having her leave before that was something he couldn’t allow. So until Rosemount was captured or she remembered, she would stay here and she would be safe. No matter what he had to go through. No matter how much she hated him when this was all over. She had to stay safe. He had made too many mistakes already. Risking Shea’s life was one mistake he would not make.
His eyes closed against regrets. How could one man screw up so many lives? With that thought heavy on his mind, sleep, at last, claimed him. And then, with the stealth of a lightning bolt and the ferocity of a hurricane, his past roared toward him.
Warm wet liquid poured down his face, blurred his vision. His limbs were weak and shaking; he raised his hand to wipe at his eyes. A glance down at his fingers revealed the name of the liquid. Blood. God … blood everywhere. What had happened?
“Ethan!” Abby’s soft, sobbing voice had him jerking his head around. Pain speared … shot through his neck. What the hell … ?
He closed his eyes. Had to get his bearings. Once he knew what had happened, he could figure out the rest. With unconsciousness a sliver away, Abby’s voice penetrated the dark.
“Ethan, help me …”
He jerked awake. “Where are you?”
“I don’t know.” Another sob. “I can’t move.”
The desperation and fear in her voice forced him from unconsciousness. Ignoring the pain roaring through him, he pushed to sit up. Wiping more blood from his eyes, he looked around. Though it was dark, the full moon glowed down on him, allowing him to see the distant shadow of hills surrounding him. What was he doing outside?
Still unable to comprehend what had happened, he
pulled himself to his knees. Abby’s soft sobs led him toward her. Crawling toward the sounds, he barely felt the sticks and rocks digging into his skin.
“Ethan … help me.”
“I’m coming. Hold on.”
Finally on his feet, he wobbled briefly. Gritting his teeth against the hideous pain in his left leg, he hobbled toward Abby’s cries. At the sight that met his eyes, he stopped, almost tumbling over. An anguished scream built up in his chest. Stumbling, then falling, he crawled forward.
His car was upside down. How it got there, what had happened, was a mystery. That could be answered later. Nothing compared to the horror of seeing that the car lay on top of Abby. Her head and shoulders were the only parts of her body he could see. The rest of her was covered in steel and rubber.
“Sweet Jesus, Abby.”
Another soft sob, this one fainter. “I’m scared, Ethan.”
He got to his feet and hobbled around the perimeter of the car, his dread increasing with every second. Though it was a small sports car, he wasn’t strong enough to lift it. What if she went into shock? What if she had internal injuries and lifting the car off her without medical help killed her? God, he couldn’t let that happen.
“I need to go get some help. I’ll be right back.”
“No! Don’t leave me. I’m scared.”
Going to his knees, he brushed honey-blond strands from her forehead. Her skin was ice-cold. “I’ve got to find some help. I can’t find my phone. You need an ambulance, and I can’t lift the car by myself.”
“Maybe someone saw us go off the road.”
Memory finally slammed into his head. He’d been
going too fast. A deer ran out in front of them. He’d swerved to avoid it, lost control, and soared off a hill.
“It’s early morning, hours till daylight. I’ve got to find help now.”
“Please don’t leave me, Ethan. I’m so scared.”
Tears poured from his eyes, blending with his blood. He swallowed a sob. “I promise, I’ll be right back.” After pressing soft kisses to her forehead, her tear-damp cheeks, then her mouth, he stood. “Hang on, Abby. Please. I’ll be right back.”
Panic and fear overrode pain; he clawed and crawled up the hill. Abby’s soft cries followed him, begging, pleading for him to come back to her, growing weaker and weaker …
Ethan jerked awake. His hand went to his wet face. No blood, but the tears were real. After fifteen years, he should be used to the nightmares, but as usual, when they came, the memory and agony were just as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. At least he hadn’t dreamed the most agonizing moment. The memory of finally bringing help for Abby only to find her cold, lifeless body.
“Ethan?”
He jerked again, surprised to see Shea standing beside his bed. When had he become so complacent that he no longer heard people while he slept? The thought chilled him. In his early days of prison, he’d learned a painful lesson. Awake or asleep, always be on guard.
Light from the hallway reflected the concern on her face. “Are you okay? I heard you shout.”
“I’m fine… . Sorry I woke you.”
Instead of leaving, as he hoped she would, she drew closer. “Did you have a nightmare?”
Ethan sat up and leaned against the headboard. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Always his question to her when she had a nightmare.
“No.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, her soft hand covering the fist he hadn’t realized was clenched. “It helps to talk about it.”
He shook his head. “I don’t deserve any help. Go back to bed.”
“Why not?”
A middle-of-the-night discussion of his past sins wasn’t Ethan’s idea of a good time. Regrets talked about could never demolish the sins. There was no point.
He flinched as a tentative finger traced the slash of scar from his left brow, past the stubble on his chin, and followed it under his neck. “Is this one of the things you have nightmares about?”
A ragged breath shuddered through him. “Not the injury. How it happened … yes.”
“What did happen?”
“Car wreck.”
“It was a serious accident.”
“Yes.”
“You lost someone.”
He jerked at her perception.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Without meaning to speak, Ethan heard himself say, “I was a kid, thought I had the world by its tail. Turned out, the world caught me by the balls and held on tight.”
He stopped. Hell, what was he doing?
“Tell me,” Shea’s soft voice urged.
He shook his head. “No, it’s not something I—”
Soft hands cupped his face. “You can.”
Ethan stared into the beautiful, luminous face, the purity and caring in her eyes a mockery to his doubt. Did Shea not knowing change anything? What was the point of keeping it from her any longer? Once she found out all he’d kept from her, any good thoughts she had about him would be completely destroyed anyway. Besides, hadn’t he owed her the truth for years?
Releasing another ragged breath, he said, “I’d just started my sophomore year in college. Abby was two years behind me, still in high school. I was playing football on a full scholarship at the University of Texas. We had it all planned. After I graduated, I was sure to get a pro offer. Once Abby finished up college, we’d get married. We were young. Our families wealthy beyond most people’s dreams. Both of us had everything given to us before we even wanted it. I was arrogant, thought I was so damned smart. So damned untouchable. Turns out, no matter what kind of plans you make, if fate wants to fuck you, there’s not a damn thing you can do.”
He shook his head, disgusted with himself. “Ah hell, it wasn’t fate—it was me. Totally my fault. We were coming back from a party. I’d only had a few beers, thought I was okay to drive. The road was wet. I was going too fast. A deer ran out in front of me. I swerved, missed the deer, and went off a hillside.” He took a breath. “Abby died.”
“What about you?”
“Me? Hell, I was fine. Messed up my leg, lost my scholarship, but that didn’t matter.”
“And this?” She touched his scar again.
He snorted. “My mother was all for getting it fixed. Said it’d make it easier to forget.” His harsh and humorless laugh bounced across the room. “Like I was going to forget that I’d killed Abby.”
“So you kept the scar as punishment?”
“State of Texas took care of that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Went to prison for involuntary manslaughter.”
“For how long?”
“For taking Abby’s life? Not long enough.”
“You punish yourself still.”
He shrugged. The truth was the truth. “Abby’s dead; I’m alive.”
“What about your parents?”
“What about them?”
“Couldn’t they help—”
With the memory of his mother and father’s cold, accusing expressions still as clear today as it had been fifteen years ago, bitterness and resentment boiled through him. “Do you mean, couldn’t they keep me out of prison? They tried their damnedest.”
“You wouldn’t let them, would you?”
“How’d you know?”
“Because you wanted … needed to be punished. If they’d kept you out of prison, that would have made you feel as though you hadn’t paid for it.”
Shea understood him well, maybe too well.
“Was prison hard for you?”
He snorted. “A rich kid who knew nothing about hardships? They made sure I learned the rules fast.”
“They?”
“Lifers.”
Shea shook her head in denial. “How is that possible? You were just a kid. Why would they put you with hardened criminals?”
“Abby’s parents. She was their only child… . They hated me almost as much as I hated myself. Were determined I was going to pay for their loss. Her father had political connections and deep pockets. Instead of going to a Texas prison, I got shipped out of state. A prison in Mississippi.”
“If your parents were wealthy, didn’t they have connections, too?”
“Didn’t matter. By that time, they’d washed their hands of me. My father had decided I needed to learn a lesson.” His laugh reflected his mood, hollow and grim. “They got what they wanted and then some.”
He heard her swallow hard. She didn’t ask … couldn’t say the words. He said them for her. “First week in, I was attacked. Two of them grabbed me outside the laundry room.”
Her hand gripped his arm. “Oh, Ethan, I’m sorry.” The thickness of her voice told him she held back tears.
Her compassion astounded him. “You’ve been through worse, Shea.”
“I never realized how you might understand what I’d gone through, but you do, don’t you?”
“Some. At least the next time it happened, I had help.”
“What do you mean?”
“A couple of weeks later, the same guys came into my cell. I was still this too stupid, wet-behind-the-ears kid, an easy mark. I knew I should be punished for what had happened to Abby. But deep down, I kept hoping my parents would burst through the door and save me. Turned out, I was saved, but not by my parents. Noah stopped them.”
She gasped. “Noah?”
“Yeah, he’d been there a while longer than me. Beat the hell out of both of them. I never did ask him how he happened to be out of his cell. It’s not something we ever talked about after that night.”
“What happened after that?”
“I got put in the infirmary. Noah got time added to his sentence.”
“For saving you?”
Ethan shrugged. “In that particular prison, it was kind of an accepted practice. Lots of guys were broken in that way, especially the young, clueless ones. A sort of a welcome to hell. Guys who interfered got worse punishment. By that time, Noah had a reputation. He was too tough for anyone to go up against him. COs had it out for him, though. They made sure he paid.”
“So that’s how you met… . Did LCR already exist?”
“Only in Noah’s mind. He told me what he wanted to do. Said he planned to implement it as soon as he got out. To call him if I was interested.”
“And you did?”
The exhilaration and relief of freedom that had zoomed through him that day was a feeling he’d never forget. “The day I found out about my parole, I called him. When I walked out the doors, he was waiting for me.”
“And you’ve worked for him ever since?”
“No, I stopped working for LCR last year.”
She drew back and frowned her confusion. “But you rescued me.”
“You were a special case. Noah knew I’d do anything to save you.”
“Why, Ethan?”
Needing distance from all he’d shared, Ethan got up from the bed. At the window, unable to face her too-perceptive gaze, he said, “I owed you.”
“For what?”
“We were very close at one time.”
“I know we were lovers. But we had broken up. Why would—”
“We were more than that … we were partners. We shared everything.”
“Even what you just told me?”
“No, I’ve never been able to talk to you about that.”
“Why not?”
“Shame, mostly.”
He heard her come up behind him. She placed a tentative hand on his arm and asked, “Why shame?”