Her Secret Life
“What then? Before when I asked, you said you’d been in an accident. I just...”
What then? What then?
“It was an accident.”
“What!” Leaning forward, Kacey rested her arms on the old tabletop, not far from his hands. He studied his fingers. And hers. So close.
“I was sitting on the floor in the family room, leaning back against the couch, playing a shooting video game with my brother Dennis.”
“He would have been twelve then...” Her words burst into his telling like she couldn’t hold them back. Like she was sitting there in his family’s home, watching the moment unfold.
“Willie wanted to play. We told him, repeatedly, that as soon as we were done he could have a turn. Problem was, the game had been going on for hours. I was vegging after a hard week of tests. Dennis would play with me twenty-four-seven if I’d sit there...” He shrugged, wishing he’d better understood his role of oldest brother back then. He should have been more aware. More attentive...
He wished he could just turn back the damned clock.
Kacey’s mouth hung open, her gaze locked on his. She was ready to take this on. Take him on.
To help carry the burden?
An unfamiliar sensation coursed through him. Nothing sexual, but just as intense.
He was in dangerous territory. And it felt so damned good.
Was he imagining the whole thing?
“Every once in a while Willie would come in and ask if it was his turn yet. Sometimes he’d sit on the couch and watch, coaching us in his little kid way.”
“He was seven then, right?”
Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he nodded. Focusing on her kept him from seeing the scene in his mind so intently.
“He’d get bored, or impatient, and leave for a while. But he’d always end up back in there, bugging us.”
He swallowed. Stared at her. And then he felt her hand slide over both of his.
In that moment, it felt right. Okay.
“He asked Dennis to let him have a turn at his control. Said something about being my brother, too. Dennis told him, ‘No way, squirt, you’ll lose my man and I’m getting close.’”
He remembered those words. Distinctly.
He had wondered, so many times over the years, if Dennis did, too. They never spoke of that day. Ever.
It was kind of an unwritten rule between them. If the infamous day was mentioned, Dennis would leave and never come back.
Michael didn’t doubt it would happen.
“A little bit later, Willie was back.” His words sounded like bombs in the room. To him, anyway. Kacey’s other hand came over his—covering every available inch of his flesh. She was a toucher like none other he’d ever known.
The fact should have bothered him.
“He came in carrying my dad’s new .22-caliber pistol. Dad had shown it to me the night before, and Dennis and I both told Willie he’d better put it back before he got in big trouble.”
“He said he wanted to show me that he could play as good as Dennis could...”
His voice faded. He could breathe. And swallow. And talk.
He just...didn’t.