"Who you really were," she answered. "Whether that night affected you as much as it had me." Releasing a shuddering breath, she prayed for calm. "I wanted—I wanted to know what happened. Her last moments . . . was she-" Her voice broke on a sob. "I was with her that night, Curtis. She'd just—dropped me off. We . . . went to see a p-play."
"Christ." He dragged a shaking hand through his hair.
"Twelve minutes," she whispered. "Twelve minutes after s-she dropped me off . . . she was . . . dead." Her voice strangled on a sob. "Maybe if I'd been with her-"
"Don't say that-"
"Was she afraid? Did she k-know what happened? Did she s-suffer?"
"Shannon- don't do this." Curt's voice was harsh in the soft, scented night.
"You were the only one who . . . had answers." She blindly wiped her eyes. "But you were nothing like I'd imagined. Nothing like what I'd built up in my mind. You were so much more. And you were so damned h-hard on yourself." Taking a chance, she reached for his hand. He reacted as though he'd been stung, jerking away from her.
Another piece of her heart dying, she forced herself to continue. "I stopped caring about answers because I just wanted you to feel better. I wanted you to let it go. So . . . you could be h-happy-"
"Happy?" Curt shook his head.
"I hoped you could finally forgive yourself—and live your life. . ." Her breath huffed out on a painful sigh. "I knew it was my fault you couldn't. My letters. Those pictures." Shannon welcomed the pain coursing through her. She deserved it. If only she could relieve him of his. "Curtis, I would do anything if it would take away the pain I caused you."
"So—none of it was real?"
"Everything was real," she insisted. "I fell in love with you."
"Why'd you wait?" He raised his gaze to the sky. Several stars had begun to appear as the night sky grew purple. "How the hell can you claim to love me? Is this what love is to you?"
She closed her eyes, blinking back tears. Praying for the strength to finish their conversation. "I wanted to tell you. So many times—but I had to wait until you were well. Until you could decide on your own . . . whether you could stand the sight of me anymore."
"I think we both know the answer to that one."
Her gasp of pain slipped free. "You were finally well and—Cindy showed up. You took that so badly, I couldn't-"
"Be bothered?" Curt's voice was maddeningly calm in the growing dusk.
"I couldn't bear to be the one who would hurt you even worse," she cried. How could he be so contained? When it was destroying her? "If you want to use this as your excuse-
His laugh was toneless. "This isn't a good enough reason to stop seeing you? You've been screwing the guy who killed your grandmother." His enigmatic gaze stared through her, leaving her feeling breathtakingly alone. "Is that what gets you off-"
"Stop it!" Horrified, Shannon backed away. From the frightening person he'd become. "I lied about who I am . . . But—I've never lied about how I felt."
"Whatever, Shan."
"Can you say the same?" The more controlled Curt became, the more out-of-control she grew. "I love you." Shannon shouted the words. "But, you don't want it. You shut down—avoiding me as though I'm your enemy-"
His smile held no humor. "Turns out you were."
Devastated, she pushed off the car and rounded the trunk. It was time to leave. Before she shattered into a thousand tiny shards. "If that's what you believe, there's no point in talking anymore." Popping the trunk, she set the boxes inside. All while he stood there, watching. Never speaking. She moved to the door. "I still love you."
"If this is love . . . I guess I should be grateful you didn't hate me. All your notes. Your reminders of how awful I was." Expressionless, he stared at her. "That's who I became, Shannon. I embraced your words and became the monster I am today."
As she closed the door, she was grateful to finally be sitting, her limbs quaking in the seat. Wanting to rest her head against the wheel, she held herself upright. Just a few more minutes, she promised. And it would be over. Everything she'd grown to love would be gone. She doubted her ability to drive. In the dimmest corner of her brain that was still functioning, she knew she would have to pull over somewhere.
His back resting against his truck, Curt leaned in. "You created me."
"I was seventeen. I had no one to talk to. No power to make it right." Her head pounding, she winced against the pain. "My world fell apart that night," she explained, her voice soft and weary. All cried out, she had nothing left inside. "Just as yours did," she added. She stared through the windshield, not seeing anything. "By the time I was old enough to realize how wrong I'd been—I was so ashamed. I'd held you responsible for everything bad in my life."
"I searched for you." Curt's confession floated through the window. "For years . . . I wanted to apologize. I wanted to tell you how sorry I was for hurting you. For the things you accused me of. For ruining your life." His sigh left her empty inside.
"I stared at those pictures a thousand times. Each time I read your notes . . . I searched for any clues I'd overlooked. Anything indicating who you were . . . because there was damn sure no Elizabeth Marshall anywhere." Though he glared at her, his features were softened in the fading light. "I pored over my tournament photos . . . matching up every brown-haired girl to this picture. It drove me crazy." Surprising her, Curt leaned on her open window. "Why wouldn't you show up, Shan? To the tournament honoring your grandmother? Were you worried you might not be able to hate me so much after you saw what I was doing?"
Shrinking from the sarcasm in his voice, she closed her eyes. "Because I was embarrassed by how I'd treated you," she admitted, her voice clogging with tears. "By the time college was over, I could finally admit I'd been wrong to blame you. But, I didn't know how to fix it."
"You never even tried," he bit out. "You never sought me out-" He shifted to his good leg. Part of her wanted to insist he sit down . . . but Shannon knew she'd lost the right to help him.
"You tracked me down . . . everywhere. To remind me how I'd ruined your life," he sneered. "You couldn't find me when you wanted to apologize? You couldn't write me one of your special letters?"
"I was a coward." Forcing herself to meet his angry gaze, she blinked back tears. "A million times I wanted to contact you. Apologize for the terrible things I said."
"But, you didn't."
"No." Sniffing, she shook her head. "I have no excuse. I moved to Denver and I fell into the trap with Brad. Each year, I told myself that would be the year I came home. I would finally go to the tournament and I'd apologize for what I'd done. But, by then—I was broke. He'd stolen all my money. I couldn't afford to fly home—and I couldn't admit to my mother that I'd been so stupid. It would've only confirmed what she's always thought about me."
"I guess that makes us both stupid." Curt pushed off her window. "I'd hoped if I ever found you—if I could ever tell you how sorry I was . . . that maybe I'd feel better. That somehow, I might find a way to live with myself. But, you took even that from me." His voice hoarse, he released a ragged sigh. "I should hate you for that." He shook his head. "For punishing me even longer."
"I tried to explain how I felt . . . that you'd kept Gram alive for us. The tournament." Shannon choked up, her sorrow threatening to drown her. "Of course, I forgive you," she whispered. "At that time in my life, she was my lifeline. I'll never know what you endured growing up—but you have no idea what my life was like."
His implacable expression told her everything she needed to know. "I hope someday you can . . . forgive me. I know I've ruined everything. I don't expect you to like me. But—if you could-"
"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR anymore." Curt cut her off, his head pounding, his throat tight from the need to shout at her. Every part of him was aching. Especially his heart. Even as he wanted to hate her . . . he couldn't. Even as he wanted her to suffer . . . bearing witness to it was slowly killing him.
"I've wasted half my life mourning Gram and
blaming you."
Her wistful voice wrapped around him in the dark, threatening his equilibrium. He just wanted it over. For her to finally leave . . . so he could go inside and- what? Collapse? Throw things? Get wasted?
"I want a life with someone, Curt. But—I think you want to stay isolated. Even before Cindy arrived . . . it didn't seem as though you wanted . . . happiness-"
"That's not true," he shouted, surprising them both. Low blow, Shan. "You made me happy," he accused—as though it were something blameworthy. The voice in his head was right. He didn't deserve happiness. Why the hell had he allowed her to convince him otherwise? "You made me forget I was a terrible person." The truth spilled from him on a hot wash of bitterness.
"Then . . . couldn't we try?"
"I'm over it. And you're . . . not worth it." Her gasp of pain made him wince. Curt was grateful he couldn't see her expression, because it would only make him hate himself even more. Surrounded by pain, he was sinking. Drowning in a sea of despair—and there was nothing he could do to stop it. "I don't want anything from you." His chest ached with a wrenching sorrow he'd never known. A physical pain worse than any surgery he'd ever endured.
"I wish you'd had the guts to tell me sooner," he taunted, unable to stop himself. The only person who'd ever claimed to love him . . . was the one who was killing him now. "Instead of torturing myself over you—thinking I might actually be in love with you—I would've realized I couldn't possibly love you-" He flung his angry words, letting them splash over her like acid.
"Curtis, please-"
"Two weeks," he cut her off. "You can work out your resignation. Then I want you gone." He dragged in a painful breath. "You'll show up," he vowed. "Every day you can look at me—and be reminded of what you created. It's time for you to feel a little of the agony I've known for the last decade."
"Please leave." He pushed off the fender of his truck and began the long, arduous process of climbing the steps to his porch. His stomach tightened when he heard the engine turn over. Shannon was leaving him. For good.
Hesitating on the porch, Curt clutched the rail so he wouldn't turn and watch her. As her headlights washed over the front yard, he released several panting breaths. Don't go. He was hyperventilating. His skin clammy, he was shaking as he sank down on the step. Dizzy, he buried his head in his hands, fighting the wave of nausea crashing over him. Every muscle he'd clenched in anger began to shake, leaving him unable to move. Dragging in cleansing breaths, after several minutes, he finally found the strength to stand.
Entering his house, the quiet overwhelmed him. A wall of silent suffocation. On automatic pilot, he roamed, snapping on lights—while trying to avoid any reminders of Shannon. But—they were everywhere. In the living room, Curt stopped. Staring at the board game still laying open on the table. The half-finished game seemed to mock him.
What had he done? His frustrated shout reverberated in the silence as he knocked it to the floor, watching the tiles scatter on the rug.
AFTER PULLING OVER twice, too blind to see the road, Shannon staggered into the foyer of her sister's apartment building. Though she'd planned to sleep at her new place, she was in desperate need of a Kerry session before heading to her new apartment to unpack boxes and cry over Curtis. Glancing up the winding staircase, she wondered whether she had the strength to climb them.
Five minutes later, Shannon sagged against the door, fumbling to find her key as her legs wanted to fold under her. On autopilot, she stumbled toward the tiny sitting room, pausing when she heard raised voices. Kerry's bedroom. Damn, they were arguing. And here she was- "In the way again." One more day . . . and she would've been out of their hair.
Slipping into her room, she set her purse down quietly. Maybe if she hovered in the dark, they would finish it . . . never realizing they'd had an audience. The next five minutes proved her wrong. Theo's voice escalated . . . to a pitch that raised the hair on her neck. When something . . . or someone knocked into the kitchen table, a frisson of fear had her yanking her cell phone from her purse.
But it was Kerry's yelp of pain that sent her staggering from her hiding place. Moving quickly through the darkened living room, Shannon's heart was beating way too fast as she grabbed a candlestick from the mantle.
"Get away from her." Her guttural shout startled them both. Kerry recovered quickly, moving behind the table—out of range.
Mother of God . . . how long had this been going on? Panic throbbing through her, Shannon attacked, raising the candlestick as she lunged at Theo. By the time she reached him, he'd recovered from his shock . . . enough to snicker at her paltry attempt to protect her sister.
Angry fingers bit into her upper arm as he flung her aside. "Back off, bitch. We're discussing something. And you're always in the goddamn way."
Shannon staggered against the stove. Reaching behind her, she grabbed the frying pan sitting there. "Get the hell out of here . . . now." Swiping it through the air, she smiled when he took a step back. "I've had a pretty shitty night, Theo. And I would love to take it out on a dickhead like you." She swung again. "So . . . you need to ask yourself—whether you're ready to get the shit beaten out of you by a crazy, hormonal bitch."
When Kerry cracked up in the corner, relief coursed through her. She wasn't hurt. "Or we could just tell him I've dialed 9-1-1. The cops are on the way." The voice of reason had returned.
Theo's face contorted. We need to change the locks tonight. A shiver rolling through her, Shannon took another step, skillet raised in case he attacked. "Leave now."
"You're both crazy bitches." Backing his way through the living room, Shannon smiled when she realized he didn't trust her to turn his back. He thrust a finger at Kerry. "You—we're not done here."
"Get out." Shannon's shout ricocheted off the walls. It felt good to release some of her anguish on someone so deserving of it.
WHILE THEY WAITED FOR the locksmith, Kerry spoke with the police officer who'd arrived shortly after Theo's departure. After agreeing she would stop by the next day to file a complaint . . . Kerry collapsed on the couch where Shannon was already seated.
"So . . . what's new?" She had to force the casual words out . . . when what she really wanted to do was rail at her sister. How long? How long had Kerry taken Theo's abuse? It was easier to accuse . . . because the other option was too painful. Facing her own guilt . . . when she was already drowning in it over Curtis. Why hadn't she picked up on the signs?
"I'm o-okay, Shannon." Still shaking, Kerry tugged the velour throw around her shoulders.
"How long, Kere?"
"He started getting p-possessive . . . and controlling." Distracted, she shook her head. "Hell—it was probably from the start. But . . . I-I didn't notice at f-first." Kerry raised her gaze to meet hers. "Or—I didn't recognize it for what it was."
"How long has he . . ." She swallowed her dread. "How long has he been h-hitting you?"
"Tonight was the first time." When Kerry continued shivering, she slid down the couch and pulled her in for a hug. Her sister was shocky in the aftermath. And damn it, she was, too.
"You swear?" Staring at her sister, she prayed her sister wasn't lying. Wasn't trying to protect her from worry. "Swear to God, Kerry," she ordered.
"Shan—I may have made a m-mistake in not breaking it off sooner . . . but I'm not about to be any asshole's punching bag."
Together, they found their first smiles. "You were breaking up with him?"
"Yeah. And it pissed him off."
"Clearly."
"I've never seen you wield a frying pan like that before." Kerry's smile turned reflective. "Crazy, hormonal bitch. I think I need that imprinted on a coffee mug."
Shannon forced a smile. "Maybe for Christmas."
Her expression turned serious. "Thank God you came home tonight. I was wondering how I would get to my phone."
Her smile faded. "Don't—say that. I h-hate to think our lives could come down to a moment of fate." And then she remembered Curtis.
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Kerry sank back in the couch, staring at her. "Shan—you look like hell. Is something wrong?"
She raised an eyebrow. "How can you ask that?"
Her sister wasn't deterred. "Why are you here? I thought you were spending the night with Curt."
Dropping her gaze, she released a shaky sigh. "We . . . broke up tonight." In a halting voice, she explained the pictures and letters—the terrible thing she'd done to him. The shame she'd hidden, even from her sister.
"Oh, Shan. Now, I realize why you were so afraid to tell him."
"I'll survive. It's entirely my fault." Releasing a sad sigh, she stared at her sister. She'd allowed a secret to keep her from her sister. When Kerry had needed her. "Now, I realize why you were so distracted the last time I was here. I kept talking about Theo . . . but I didn't pay attention to the signals."
Kerry rolled her eyes. "Okay . . . you're not going to use this to go all 'big-sister' on me."
"If I hadn't been taking care of Curtis-"
Her sister cut her off. " I know you think everything is about you, but it's really not. You didn't fail me, Shannon. I made a mistake. Theo's a dick. I should've dumped him sooner." Rising from the couch, she winced.
"Kere—he hurt you. Do we need to go to the hosp-"
"I'll have a few bruises tomorrow." Her sister stared her down, her expression business-like. "Just like you will. They'll fade in a few days." She headed for the kitchen. "Are you hungry? Cuz all of a sudden, I'm starving."
"SO—YOU'LL BE OKAY HERE?" Shannon gathered her purse and another carton of stuff to haul to the new place. The locksmith had left fifteen minutes earlier, leaving behind a shiny, new deadbolt that looked strong and reassuring.
"I'll be fine. I'm going to steal a few hours in the morning to sleep in and run by the police station before I go to work." Kerry stared at her. "You'll be okay?"
Shannon doubted it. Her stomach churning, she hoisted the box to her hip. "I'll be fine. My stomach hurts . . . probably from all the action tonight." Distracted, she brushed hair from her eyes. "I just need sleep."
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