Fear.
That’s the single, biggest reason I didn’t run the moment he told me he killed Rogan.
I’m afraid I’m not strong enough to leave. I’m afraid of his reaction if I try. I’m afraid he’ll hunt me down, and he will. He’ll snarl and rage and throw his weight around.
More than that, I’m afraid I’ll hurt him. If he truly loves me, the level of the anguish of what might have been but can never be will damage him.
I’m so afraid, but fear isn’t the reason to stay.
Hours pass. Sunlight fades outside the stable door. The dirt floor digs against my butt. Chicken slips in and out of sleep.
I have answers to some of the questions that drove me to Sandbank, but I don’t have closure. If anything, I’m more lost now than I was when Rogan disappeared.
I’m lost.
All the illusions in the world cannot remove that reality.
My relationship with Jarret is too entangled in my unfinished business with Rogan. I need to dig myself out of this mess before I’m so far gone I don’t know who I am.
I’ve never walked away from anything, and maybe that’s the problem.
I need to walk away.
Now.
Get up.
My gaze drifts to the door. He’ll come looking for me any moment. He’ll rest those gorgeous, commanding eyes on me and persuade me to stay.
Go now.
It takes a sea of courage and a mountain of resolve to make my legs move. Hugging Chicken goodbye reduces me to a tear-soaked blob of wobbly limbs and strangled breaths.
With harrowing steps, I make it to the door, across the field of snow, and stop at the front porch, where Jarret waits.
Jake and Conor sit beside him on the stairs, and the first thing I notice is her puffy, red-rimmed eyes.
Jarret told them.
She knows she had a brother. A brother who wanted her dead. She knows I was married to him and didn’t tell her.
Her pain and my guilt sit between us, and it’s eternal.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper into the cold night air. “I’m leaving.”
“You’re not going anywhere!” Jarret surges to his feet, eyes wild and breaths steaming.
Agony rips through my chest and quivers my voice. “I’ll take your secrets to the grave.” I pat at my pockets. Looking for… Shit. “I need my keys.”
And my purse, phone, money. My wages are deposited in my bank account, but I need my wallet. I didn’t think through this.
There’s no way I’m going back into that house. If I do, I won’t leave.
“I’ll grab them.” Conor stands and disappears inside.
Jarret charges toward me, and I turn, hurrying to the car without looking at him. I’m defenseless against his gaze, fracturing and bleeding beneath the sound of his chasing footfalls.
I speed up my gait, following the tracks in the snow from our snowball fight. Every step plagues me with the relentless wishing for his arms around me, the press of his warm body, and the authority in his voice.
The pain is too great, cleaving my insides and causing my strides to falter. Walking away from Jarret Holsten is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
“Do you still love him?” He grabs my arm and swings me around. “If he were alive, would you take him back?”
“No and no.” I yank free of his grip.
“Then what is it? Why are you running?”
“You know why.” I spin back to the car and reach for the door handle.
“Because I killed him?”
“You killed. I cheated. We built our relationship on a bed of secrets and distrust. I can’t make peace with that, and you shouldn’t be able to, either.”
“He was gone. You didn’t cheat. As for our relationship, it was built on love, Maybe.”
“Love.” I grimace. “How many times has love found me and dumped me? In the end, I’m lost.”
“I won’t leave you. I would sell my soul if it meant never losing you.”
I reel in a world of emotion and feeling, drowning in the torment of if only. It’s a tragedy to feel this much for another person. A burden and a curse.
“I don’t know what to do or where I’m supposed to be or how to process what I’m feeling. I’m lost, Jarret.” I suck in a shuddering breath. “You have to let me go.”
“For how long?”
“Forever.”
“No.” His jaw turns to stone. “Never.”
It’s the reaction I feared. The one I have no armor against. I’m cracking apart inside so painfully I have to separate from myself to deal with it.
I have to convince us both of the ugly truth. “We’ve been playing a twisted game. The only winning move is to walk away. You had to know this would end eventually.”
“You’re wrong.” He grips my nape, his fingers ice cold against my skin. “We both won the second you showed up at the ranch.”
“But I came here searching for answers. I’ve been searching for so long and feel like I’m everywhere and nowhere at all.”