Libby avoided Jaxon’s gaze as she continued. “I gave it up right then and there. They told me that if I cooperated they’d spare my life and the life of my unborn child. I told them everything they wanted to know, praying the entire time that you’d make it through, and a few days later when they told me they’d killed Diego, I felt…like Fat Frank had gone ahead and slammed that bat into my gut. They told me you and Declan had managed to escape. So they were keeping me…biding their time.”
She turned eyes full of accusation and anger on him then, and she noticed the sudden whiteness around his mouth and the bleakness that surrounded his dark eyes.
“I know it was my fault the unit was attacked, and that because of me, Diego died. But I had no choice and I would do it again if I had to. Surely you must understand that.” Her eyes filled with unshed tears and she looked away as her voice softened with the weight of emotion she was feeling. “I needed for you to understand. So I waited for you to come for me. It’s the one thing that got me through those dark months. As time passed and my belly grew with the life we’d created, my hope turned to despair. When my time came and they cut our baby from my body, took Logan from my breast, my despair turned to hatred. I cursed you and everything that you loved that day, Jaxon.”
Jaxon watched as Libby’s eyes glazed over, and the tight coil of desperate anguish that pounded in him made it hard to breathe. His sorrow at everything lost was complete. His cousin, Libby, and now a child he’d not known existed. Bitterness washed over him as he thought of the pain and torture imposed upon this woman.
His Libby.
The one that he knew was meant for him, and only him. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to make things right. There was a river of hatred, mistrust, and pain between them, and he had no clue if it would ever be bridged. Sorrow washed over him at the thought of the way he’d treated her. Like garbage. Like less than garbage.
But he knew he had to try. Circumstance, fate…whatever you wanted to call it had conspired to separate him from his mate, and he would not let it happen again. If it did, he feared the darkness that lived inside his soul would claim the last shred of humanity that still lingered.
And he would be lost forever.
“Libby, I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me about the baby?”
“Are you fucking joking? I tried to! That last day, I tried to tell you everything. All I wanted was one small crumb of commitment, something for me to hold onto. And what did I get? Nothing. Not one goddamn thing.”
She crossed to just in front of him, chest heaving. Jaxon mentally shook himself, thinking she was the most amazing thing he’d ever laid eyes on. She poked him hard in the chest and he did nothing to avoid contact. If anything, heat fingered out from her touch, and the cat began to make noise. He clenched his hands in an effort to maintain control over the chaotic blend of emotions that knocked about inside him.
“I let you make love to me one more time because I couldn’t stand the thought of never feeling your body against mine again. How pathetic is that? I knew you didn’t want me. I knew that you didn’t love me enough to claim me as yours, and yet I still craved your body like it was liquid candy. I let you use me, and then you left.”
He knew the truth that lived in her words would haunt him till the end of his days. He had used her selfishly. He’d not wanted to acknowledge the hold she’d had over him back then. He must have known on some level that she was the only woman for him. And like the coward he’d been, he had abandoned her, and when she disappeared, he’d been quick to believe the worst.
Because it hurt less.
And now they were here, in this time and place with a whole world of hurt and blackness between them.
All because of the DaCosta clan.
He would take his lumps and admit to the mistakes he’d made, but his life—Libby’s life—had been interrupted, altered and torn all to hell.
For that, he would make every last DaCosta pay with their life.
He felt tendrils of excitement wind along the edges of his mind, down his body, and out to his limbs until he was humming in anticipation of the hunt. He would start there. He would have his revenge on the DaCosta clan, and they would know the fury of a Castille.
He would worry about everything else later.
Libby had turned her back to him, and he reached out his hand, wanting to touch, to comfort…to something.
“Libby, I…” He didn’t know how to continue. There were no words to express the pain he felt for her. And he would take to his grave the knowledge that he was responsible for all that had happened.
“Don’t bother with an apology, Jaxon. It’s way too late for that. I don’t want anything from you.” She looked directly at him, her violet eyes wet with unshed tears, “except a ride to Belize.”
Her body was still so very frail, but he noted the determination and strength in the set of her shoulders. He recognized the signs. There would be no swaying Libby when her mind was set.
Her body hunched inward as if she knew he was hovering.
Jaxon dropped his hands to his sides and turned from her, catching the emerald green eyes of his brother. Jagger nodded, and Jaxon made a decision then that he hoped he’d not live to regret. He was going to Belize, and it looked like he would have more company than he’d wanted along for the hunt.
“We leave in ten minutes. We’ve chartered a flight to Texas, where we’ll be rendezvousing with Julian. I’ll contact him and see about getting you some proper gear.”
Jaxon waited for a response, and when there was nothing, turned to leave. A thought struck him then, one that had him pausing mid-stride.
“How did you escape them, and end up in Michigan?”
“I didn’t escape, Jaxon.” She laughed, a hoarse sound that slid across the room like sandpaper. “Don’t you get it? Nothing I did was of my own volition. This is all part of some plan.”