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Crazy Hot Love (Dirty Dicks 2)

Page 67

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“I was a coward, Claire, and I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I would never ask that of you, but I want you to know I would give anything to go back to that day and change things. I’d give up my life if I could take it back.” My voice cracks on the last word, and I can’t keep it in any longer. My bottom lip trembles, and tears flow down my cheeks. I wipe them away, but they keep coming.

“I should’ve told you sooner. I should’ve come clean and—” I choke back a sob. “I’m so sorry. These words are pointless. They don’t bring back your father, but I don’t know what else to say. Tell me what to say, Claire. Tell me what to do.” Dropping my chin to my chest, I swallow past the giant lump in my throat. “I’m sorry, Claire. I’m sorry.”

“Stop, Trevor.” Cupping my jaw in her soft hands, she lifts my face. “Please, stop saying that. Remember when you told me I wasn’t allowed to apologize to you for pulling me out of that fire?”

I nod, unsure if I can form words without losing my shit.

“This is the same thing. You didn’t kill my father, Trevor. He died doing what he loved. He died doing what he was trained to do. But he did not die because of you. The building collapsed, trapping him, but that wasn’t your fault.”

Did she not hear a word I said? “But I was out of the building, Claire.” Pulling her hands from my face, I scoot back. She’s not thinking clearly, and once she realizes what I’m telling her, she’ll hate me.

“Yes, you were, and I’m so glad, because if you’d been in the building that day, something might’ve happened to you, and I can’t imagine a world where you don’t exist, Trevor.”

“You’re not listening to me.”

“You’re not listening to me.” Her voice demands every bit of my attention. “He didn’t go back in because he thought there was someone still in there.”

“But I heard them. I heard the men talking…”

“I wasn’t there, Trevor, so I don’t know what you heard, but I’ve read the report, and I’ve talked to my dad’s crew who were with him that day, and I promise you he did not go back into that building because of you.”

I don’t understand. “Then why?”

“Did you know my dad was an arson investigator?”

“No, I didn’t.”

She nods. “He was. The report says the final sweep of the building was all clear, and the structure was deemed safe. My dad went back into the school to begin his investigation.”

This is all too much. I stand up, pushing my fingers into my hair while I pace the room. Tears burn my eyes, but I look up at the ceiling and squeeze them shut. For thirteen years I’ve carried this around with me. I’ve lost sleep over it, and I’ve let it eat at me. To find out everything I thought to be true is something entirely different—that’s a little overwhelming.

“Then why do I remember hearing them say they were missing a kid?”

Claire shakes her head. “I don’t know. The reports didn’t say anything about a missing kid. That day was hectic. There were children and adults crying and screaming, and people running all over. Who knows what you heard. And you were only twelve at the time, Trevor. It’s possible you misunderstood the situation, or maybe over the years that memory has been skewed.”

“Maybe, but I…”

I don’t know what to say. For years I’ve hated myself for that. It’s the reason I’ve kept Claire at arm’s length. It’s also the reason I’ve kept a protective eye on her from afar—almost like it was my duty to watch out for her and somehow repay my debt.

“It wasn’t your fault, Trevor, and I hate that you’ve lived with this for so long. I barely survived living with my guilt for a few weeks, and you’ve been battling it for over a decade.”

I never told a soul—not my best friends, siblings, or even my parents. I was too ashamed. For years it consumed me, and as I struggled to become the man I am today, there were many nights I lost myself in the bottle or the arms of a willing woman. Other days I was able to cope, but no matter what, it was always there.

When I was eighteen, my career choice slammed into me with enough force to rock my life off its axis. I had a nightmare—the same one I’d been having for years. I was crouched behind the bushes, watching the firefighters fight the flames, but instead of the scene unfolding, a hand grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me to my feet.

“Don’t just sit there,” a man yelled, tossing me toward the group of firefighters. “Get off your ass and help us.”

That man was Claire’s dad.

And that dream changed my life forever.

It wasn’t until I completed my training and became a full-time firefighter that I really learned the risks you have to be prepared to take every time you run into a burning building. But I promised himself I’d always be ready to take them, to pay forward the sacrifice Claire’s dad made for me.

The guilt lessened after that, but it never quite went away, and now I’m not sure how I’m supposed to let go of something I’ve carried around with me for so long.

“You have me,” Claire whispers.

I blink, completely unaware that I said that out loud.



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