Wine and Whiskey (Surviving Absolution #1) (28 page)

“Carrie!” Shae hops up and
smoothes
down her dress. “I don’t even want to know how you know that.”

Yet again, Carrie has the worst possible timing. She smirks in
the doorway, holding a vase of wildflowers adorned with a green smiley-face
balloon.

Shae takes the bouquet from her and inhales deeply. “They’re
beautiful.”

“Yeah, I stole them from some guy down the hall while he was in
the bathroom. I thought they would cheer this place up.”

Maybe his instincts are off-target. Carrie’s still Carrie, and
Shae seems more relaxed than yesterday. “Thanks. I always appreciate receiving
used gifts.”

She sticks her tongue out at him. “I picked them up at the gift
shop downstairs. You seem like a balloon kind of guy.” She gives Shae a long
hug, whispering something in her ear he can’t make out. A slight frown crosses
Shae’s face before she nods, and Carrie steps back. “Have you talked to Gail?”

Shae shakes her head. “No, I haven’t checked my phone since I’ve
been back. Do I even want to know?”

“Yeah, it’s good news. Your movie opened at number one. In
addition to a pop star, you’re officially a movie star now too.”

“I don’t think two supporting roles make me a movie star.”

“Well, you’re on your way.” Carrie winks at Nick. “I hope you
appreciate how lucky we are she associates with us now that she’s conquered
Hollywood too.”

“Believe me, I do.”

Carrie waves her fingers toward Shae. “I’m going to meet Nathan
for a quick breakfast. I’ll be back, and we can talk.”

After she walks out, Shae puts the flowers on the windowsill and
unties the string. “Carrie will get a kick out of seeing this on your bed when
she gets back.”

“Congratulations, sweetness. I’m happy for you about the movie.
You’ve worked hard, and you deserve it.”

Her shoulders shrug in modesty, but her bright smile makes his
pulse race. God, he’s missed her. “I’m just lucky to have the opportunity.”

She leans over him and circles the ribbon around the side rail.
The twitch in his groin increases to a tremor with her sweet body draped across
his. “Now, I’ve never really been an ass man, but this I like.” He pats her
bottom and strokes down her thigh, reaching under her dress.

She shivers, and the string glides through her fingers. “You’re
in the hospital and need to keep your hands to yourself.” She giggles and swats
at him before reaching up to grab the balloon.

Dark spots dance in front of his eyes, mirroring the black and
blue welts dotting her exposed wrist. His jaw clenches so tight he can barely
force the words out. “What happened to your arm?”

Yanking down her sleeve, she steps back from the bed. Her eyes are
huge with fear as they stare at each other. The hum of the air conditioning is the
only sound in the room while the balloon drifts upward, bouncing a few times
against the ceiling before gliding toward the window.

“I’m fine. It was an accident.”

He anchors her trembling arm against his stomach and pushes back
the other sleeve revealing the same sickening pattern. Bile burns his throat at
the faint outline of a handprint marring her delicate, ivory skin. “Son of a
bitch! Who did this to you?”

She slides the fabric down and stares at the floor. Every nerve
in his body flames with fury, his head pounding behind his eyes from the rage
roaring through him. “Who hurt you?”

She shakes her head.

Not again. Not this time.
There’s
no way in hell I’ll let her protect the bastard who put his hands on her
.
“Damn it! Tell me who did this to you!”

Tears roll down her pale cheeks as she whispers, “You.”

A single word validates the guilt nagging his subconscious since
he woke up.

He’s the bastard.

On wobbly legs, he races to the bathroom, barely making it to
the toilet before the retching begins.

One hand wraps around the safety bar while the other grips the
sink edge as he leans over the toilet. With the contents of his stomach long
gone, he continues to dry heave, unable to stop his body’s reaction to what
he’s done. He jerks away from Shae’s gentle touch on his back, refusing to
accept any comfort from her after the injuries she’s received from him.

Once the retching stops, he collapses against the metal sink. A
high-pitched squeal echoes off the walls of the tiny bathroom under its strain
of supporting his weight. He splashes cold water on his face and grabs the mouthwash,
trying to rinse away the taste of repulsion. The harsh solution mixes with the
bile burning his throat, shooting fire through his mouth. Yet, the irritation
is much too meager a punishment for his offense.

Weakness finally overcomes his unsteady legs, and he drops to
his knees. His bare skin stings from the cold tile, but he can’t force himself
to move. He can’t do anything but try to comprehend what could have happened to
make him put his hands on the woman he loves.

No snippets or flashes of memory come. The last three days
remain blank. Regardless of what he can’t remember, the result is the same. He
hurt her.

And he won’t let it happen again.

Pink fabric flutters by the doorway as Shae slides to the floor,
her arms wrapped around herself, watching him. She tilts her head in sympathy,
her frowning face full of concern. “Are you okay?”

No, and he never will be. He swallows hard and rasps, “It’s
over.”

“Good. I hate seeing you like this.”

He closes his eyes, unable to face her expression when he breaks
her heart. “No, I mean between you and me.”

“What?” Shock is evident in her voice, even as she whispers.
“Please don’t do this.”

“I have to. We can’t be together after what I’ve done to you.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You were drugged.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re covered in bruises…” He opens his
eyes and points to his chest, where the explosion of his heart restricts the
incoming air. “…from me.”

He puts his hand up as she crawls to him, but she pushes it
down. “I don’t blame you.”

“Look at your arms.” He forces the words out through gritted
teeth. “I did that to you.”

She kneels in front of him. “Look at my face.” A small smile
crosses her lips as her beautiful blue eyes gaze into his. “I’m okay.”

His chest aches at her attempt to protect him from the truth, as
well as the depth of her ability to forgive the unforgiveable. “How can you be,
after what I’ve done to you?”

She drops her head, rubbing her hands across her eyes. Hiding
her angelic face makes it easier. She doesn’t need him. She has her career, her
friends. His selfish desire to be with her only brings her pain. Now, she can
go back to her old life and be safe. “We have to end this.”

“I promised you I would never leave, and I meant it.”

“That was before you found out I’m a fucking monster.”

She looks up and squints at him, determination filling her eyes.
“Have you ever wanted to hit me?”

Nausea rolls in his stomach, but only self-hatred remains. “Stop
it.”

“When you were mad at me for not telling you about Spencer, did
you want to hurt me then?”

He turns his head away, trying to shut out her words. “I can’t
listen to this.”

“Did I make you angry enough you wanted to slap me or punch me?
Make me feel pain?”

His eyes lock with hers. She has to know he’s not capable of
what she’s asking. “The thought never even crossed my mind.”

“I know it didn’t.” A brighter smile returns, and she shakes her
head, as if the answer is obvious. “All the time I’ve known you—at the gym,
with Juan, at the winery—all you have ever wanted to do is protect me.” She
scoots closer and lies against his chest, her head tucked into his neck. “I
know you would never hurt me. You have proven it over and over.”

Unable to put his hands on her, to push her away, he backs up as
far as he can before hitting the wall. He wills his body not to respond. Not to
weaken under her gentle touch and her words trying to re-build the connection
between them.

“You can’t give up on us now, not after everything we’ve been
through.”

Arguments against her comments spin in his mind. She never gave
herself to him completely. Never trusted him enough to share her true feelings
with him. The harsh reality he couldn’t accept—she wasn’t meant to be his. “If
I hadn’t been so damn selfish, you wouldn’t have had to go through anything. I
should have let you go a long time ago. You belong with someone who—”

Unable to fight it, heat races through him at her lips on his
ear. “I can’t be with anyone else when I’m in love with you.”

The words hit him like a punch in the gut. The final barrier
between them crumbles after he’s hurt her the most. When he deserves it the
least. “No, don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“I don’t deserve your love.”

She cups his face, her eyes shiny with tears as they bore into
his. “Yes, you do. I know you don’t believe it, but you do.”

“Shae…”

“I love you, Nick.”

The three words he’s longed to hear since he met her. Never
imagining they would be sitting on the cold floor of a hospital bathroom the
first time she says them. Or the last time he hears them. He gathers the last
of his strength and pushes himself up the wall. Too weak to step forward, he
leans his head back. “It’s too late. Saying it now doesn’t change anything.”

“Just because I didn’t say it, doesn’t mean I didn’t feel it.”
Her lip quivers as she looks up to him, her voice cracking as her sob bubbles
out. “I want everything we talked about. I want to marry you, and have
children, and grow old together.”

The dream he never thought possible could have come true with
her. Until he ruined it. She worries about his enemies, yet the real danger
lurks within him. “Why would you want that with me? What if I hurt them too?”
He shakes his head, refusing to allow the images of her as his wife holding
their baby to undermine his resolve. “No, I have to keep you safe, and you’re
not when you’re with me.”

“Please don’t push me away. I’m not afraid. I swear.”

She lies to herself as well as him. Her earlier resistance to
come to him proves her wrong. In her cardigan and long dress, he fears what
else she’s hiding. “Did I hurt you any place else?”

Shaking her head, she curls the sleeves of her sweater around
her fingers, resting them against her chest. “No.”

Grateful yet not relieved, he gulps for air. The bruises on her
arms are enough to make him want to put a bullet in his head. He can’t take much
more. “I need to know what happened.”

“Knowing won’t change anything.”

“If you won’t, I’ll make Max tell me. So you might as well do
it.”

She sits back on her heels, smoothing out her dress across her
lap. Almost a minute passes before she opens her mouth to speak, her brow
furrowing as if she attempts to choose the right words. “You didn’t know who I
was, or want me there.” Hesitation fills her soft voice while confusion churns
in his mind. Her words make no sense. She’s the one person he always wants, the
only woman he’s ever needed.

With trembling hands, she squeezes the soft, pink fabric between
her fingers. “You thought I did something with Shae and grabbed my wrists,
trying to make me tell you what I did to her. Max pulled out his gun…”

His mind races, trying to fathom how he could have been so out
of control. With her. Enough to make Max threaten him.

She shakes her head, a faraway look in her eyes, remembering
something only she can see. “I couldn’t get through to you. You were so
furious. I was afraid you were going to…”

“What?”

Her eyes widen, and her hands fly to her mouth at the
realization of what she was going to say.

Fire engulfs his body at the explosion in his head, darkness
overcoming everything he sees, everything inside him dying at the words she’s
too scared to speak. “You thought I was going to kill you.”

Memories pummel him like hail. His mother cowering in fear as
his father grabs her arm over the phone message she forgot to give him.
Flipping the table and chasing after her when his dinner wasn’t hot enough.
Begging Nick to play quietly while his father napped. Wearing long sleeves and
pants, even on the hottest days, to hide the evidence of the torture.

Battered from his own hands, she sits before him, desperate to
ease his guilt. But her sweetness can never absolve him of what’s he’s done to
her. Or what he’s become. “I’ve turned into my father.”

She shakes her head and reaches for his hand. “No! That’s not
true. You’re nothing like him.”

His fingertips press against the grout, unwilling to let her
grasp his fingers. “He terrorized my mother and made her life hell. Now, I’ve
done the same thing to you.”

“It wasn’t like that. You weren’t yourself. You couldn’t help
it.”