Olivia looked up from contemplating her wet shoes when he spoke. She shook her head, her expression somber.
Helen Horton and her daughter sat waiting for the doctors to bring news of Vance’s condition, and Olivia glanced at them before dropping her gaze toward the floor again. “I hate this for them. Their lives have been ripped apart.”
“Horton brought this down on them. Not you.”
She raised her chin to meet his gaze once more. “I know that, but still…” She paused. “How did Lila take the news?”
He shrugged. “Mixed emotions. About what you’d expect. She’s glad Horton has been caught, relieved to hear it’s over. But sad, too, about the people he hurt, the way things ended. She wants to see you later, by the way. Wants to see for herself that you’re all right.”
She hummed an acknowledgment and looked away.
An awkward silence fell between them, and he took a seat in the chair beside her, fumbling for a place to start apologizing for his abhorrent behavior.
“Who’s with Katy?” he asked instead of broaching the more painful topic of his cruelty.
“Hank. Turns out the fire call was a false alarm, probably called in by Horton to get Hank away from the house so he could get me.”
The reminder of Olivia’s brush with death sent a wave of nausea through him, and he muttered an obscenity. “I owe you an apology.”
Beside him, Olivia tensed, straightening her back. She stared down the hall, not looking at him.
“If I’d stayed with you, like I promised, Horton wouldn’t have had a chance to—”
“You’re not my keeper.”
He sighed. “But I should have been there. I knew you were in danger, and I didn’t protect—”
“Look. Reyn…just forget it. Okay?” She turned and met his eyes then, her own swollen from crying and shadowed with fatigue. “You were there, at Clairmont Creek, when it counted, and for that I’m grateful. So let’s just call ourselves even and quit while we’re ahead. Deal?”
Her tone was curt, wounded, and her gold eyes lacked the bright glow that always warmed him in the past. It was as if a light inside her had gone out, as if her joy for life had been extinguished. He knew he was to blame for the grief in her eyes. And he’d give anything to repair the damage he’d done.
“About this morning…” he began, his heart in his throat.
“Don’t.” She turned away and bit her bottom lip. He saw the moisture welling in her eyes and watched her battling the tears. His chest ached with regret for having caused her this pain. Damn it, why did he always hurt the people he loved most?
“I’m sorry for the things I said,” he continued, knowing his words were completely inadequate to erase the scars he’d caused.
“I said don’t.” Anger vibrated in her tone. “I don’t want your apologies. You warned me not to fall for you, and I did anyway. I’ll deal with it.”
“Olivia…” He reached for her hand on her lap, and she jerked her arm away.
She stood quickly and whirled to face him. “And if I am pregnant,” she said in a low voice, “I won’t make any demands of you. You’re free to go back to Atlanta, no strings, no obligations, no regrets. Okay?”
Lunging to his feet, he plowed a hand through his hair and gritted his teeth. “No, it’s not okay. Because I do have regrets. I hate like hell that I hurt you. The things I said this morning were hateful and cruel, and I’m sorry.”
She sighed and ducked her head, but her jaw remained clenched tight. “Fine. Apology accepted. Now will you please go. I really don’t want to talk about this any more.”
He raised a hand in surrender. “All right. You’re right. This isn’t the time or place. When can we talk?”
She shook her head, frowning. “You don’t get it, do you?”
Cold fear slithered through him. He narrowed his eyes on her, and his voice sounded gravelly when he spoke. “No, I guess I don’t.”
She put her shoulders back and lifted her chin. “I don’t want to talk later. I don’t want to talk ever. I made a mistake trusting you, falling in love with you, sleeping with you. But I’ll deal with it and move on.”
He felt the blood drain from his face, felt the room spin, felt her slipping away. “No. Olivia, listen…”
He reached for her, and she stepped back, out of arm’s length. “No, I’ve thought about everything you’ve said, everything that’s happened, and I understand now that it could never work between us. I should have seen it before, but I was blinded by the fantasy I created in my mind about you. I wanted you to be someone you aren’t, and there’s nothing I can do to change who you are.”
Pain like a hot poker stabbed his chest. “And who do you think I am? Why won’t it work?”
She squeezed her eyes closed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re just different from me. We have different lives, different priorities, different needs.”
Desperation and grief choked him, but he forced words through his tight throat. “Tell me what you need, Olivia. I’ll give it to you.”
A tear broke free from her auburn eyelashes and trickled down her cheek. With his heart flayed open, his pain a living thing, clawing him inside, he stepped toward her and caught her tear with the pad of his thumb.
She gasped when he touched her and opened her eyes. The heartache and longing in her gold eyes tore him apart.
“I want your demon. But you can’t seem to give it up.”
Reyn took a step back from her, staggering drunkenly as if pushed. He tried to take a breath, but his lungs, his heart felt paralyzed.
His demon? He wasn’t sure what he’d thought she would say, but it wasn’t that. He remembered telling her by the raging creek that he had to prove himself to his demon. That had to be how she knew his name for the pain and guilt that haunted him.
But he hadn’t told her, hadn’t told anyone about the memories and recriminations that fed the demon and kept his wounds raw. Now she was asking him to give her his demon. What the hell did that mean? What did she expect from him? Didn’t she understand that he had no control over the demon? That he couldn’t change the past?
“I…I don’t know how to do that,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
She gave him a weak, sad smile. “And that’s why we have no future.”
Olivia turned, took a step, then faced him again. With two quick steps she closed the distance between them and caught his lips with hers. He tasted the salt of her tears and the agony of another loss in her kiss.
“Goodbye, Reyn,” she whispered. Then she spun away and fled down the hospital corridor.
Numb with shock from Olivia’s rejection, Reyn sat in the emergency room waiting area for long minutes after she left, desperately trying to understand the turn of events. Somehow he had to repair the damage he’d done to their relationship, had to figure out how to give Olivia what she needed to believe in him again.
He looked up when a doctor emerged from the exam room where Horton was being treated. He listened as the doctor told Helen Horton that her husband would recover and had sustained no apparent brain damage during the brief time he was clinically dead. “But,” the doctor continued, “he’s lucky to be alive.”
Helen turned a meaningful glance toward Reyn.
He turned away. He didn’t want her gratitude. He’d saved Horton for selfish reasons, because he wanted justice for his mother’s murder.
“Can I see him?” he heard Helen ask.
“As far as I’m concerned you can but I think the decision is up to the sheriff. Your husband is facing serious charges, and Sheriff Anders is waiting to question him.”
Having already given his statement to the sheriff earlier and having the report on Horton’s condition that he wanted, Reyn surreptitiously headed for the elevator to go to Gram’s room.
An untouched lunch tray sat beside Gram’s bed when he entered the room, and he met his grandmother’s anxious gaze with the best smile he could muster.
“Horton w
ill be okay, and the sheriff has him in custody. I think this mess, for my part anyway, is finally over.” He sighed as he dropped into the chair beside Gram’s bed.
“Does that mean you’ll be leaving town?” The wistful note in her voice poured acid into the bleeding wounds Olivia left inside him. He winced and rubbed a hand down his face, thinking of all the times he’d excused the melancholy in Gram’s voice as a bad phone connection. He had a lot of fences to mend before he could face himself in the mirror.
“I won’t leave until I know you’re okay. And…and then I’ll come back as often as I can to check up on you.”
Gram gave him a half-hearted smile, as if to say, Yeah, I’ve heard that before, pal. But I don’t buy it.
“I mean it this time, Gram. I’ll be back to see you.”
The light of hope glowed in his grandmother’s eyes. “And to see Olivia?”
He turned away, his jaw clenched in self-reproach. “Probably not for Olivia. She’s not speaking to me.”
“What? But why? I thought—”
He shook his head.
“Reyn?”
He struggled for his composure before he met her gaze. “I’ve hurt Olivia, and I don’t know how to make things right.”
“Do you love her?”
He took a deep breath, calming a strange fluttering inside him before he answered. “Yeah, I do.”
Gram squeezed his hand and drilled him with a no-nonsense gaze. “Then don’t give up until you make things right. Love is too precious to lose.”
“But how do I fix things?”
She smiled. “Who do I look like? Dear Abby?”
“Gram, I’m serious. I don’t know what to do.”
She stroked his hand lightly. “You’ll think of something. I’ve never known you to walk away from a challenge.”
Reyn tensed. If she only knew.
He’d walked away so many times. Too many times. He’d let so many people down. His mom. Liz. Now Olivia.
He’d let his demon rule his life, hold him prisoner for years. He’d—
His breath caught. I want your demon.
Something inside him shifted. For the first time, he saw himself, his actions from a different angle. As his thoughts took off in a new direction, Reyn flopped back on the chair beside Gram’s bed. His mind reeled, his heart drummed erratically.
He thought back to the day he’d gone into the Russells’ burning house to find Sara. Facing the smoke and fire that day, he’d resolved never to let someone get hurt because he’d walked away, because of his cowardice. But wasn’t that what he was doing now? Even though he’d thought he was protecting Liz, protecting Olivia when he’d held them at arm’s length, in truth keeping them away was what hurt them. Withholding his heart was how he’d let them down. Maybe he’d really kept the distance in his relationships to protect himself. He’d let his demon convince him that by not loving someone, he could avoid the hurt and the guilt of failing them in the end. Yet that mindset had made failure a self-fulfilling prophecy. By denying himself the love they wanted to give him, he hurt them and hurt himself more.
“Reyn, honey? Are you all right? You’re pale as a sheet.”
He wet his dry mouth and raised his eyes to Gram. “I, um…something you said just…I’ve spent my whole life walking away from what mattered. Hiding.”
“Hiding? From what?”
“The demon.”
His answer clearly confused and unnerved Gram, and he quickly tried to explain. “That’s what I call my…my…” What was it? He had to answer that question for himself as well as for Gram. For Olivia. Reaching deep into the past, his memories, his heartache, he came up with the word. “My…guilt.”
Saying the word, putting a name to the pain and doubt that had plagued him, made so many things fall into place. His guilt over his mother’s death fed his fear of failing the people he loved.
“You were right.” He glanced at Gram, whose face reflected fathomless understanding and love. “I couldn’t forgive myself for hurting the people I loved. And because I couldn’t see it, I kept repeating the same mistakes.”
And as long as he listened to the voice of the demon, he would go on doing the one thing he wanted most to avoid.
Reyn groaned and buried his face in his hands, knowing the horrible mistakes he’d made, all in the name of protecting the people he loved.
“Well, at least now you know what not to do. Hmm?” Gram’s expression brightened. “You have a chance to do things the right way with Olivia. And if you’re smart, you won’t let that darling girl get away.”
A spark of hope flickered to life deep in his soul, a feeling much like the refuge, the peace he’d known with Olivia in his arms. “I need to go, Gram. I have to find Olivia.”
“That’s my boy.”
He leaned over and placed a kiss on Gram’s cheek. “Thank you.”
She framed his face with gentle hands. “Good luck, honey. I love you so.”
Emotion clogging his throat, he nodded and smiled then hurried out of the room. Though he better understood his own actions and defense mechanisms now, he still had to convince Olivia he would and could change.
The one thing Olivia said she needed from him was his demon. She wanted him to give up his fear, his guilt and to close the distance between them. He had to figure out a way to show her that he wouldn’t let his doubts and uncertainty come in the way of giving her his whole heart, all of his love and commitment.
When he arrived at her house, he still had no specific plan, but he wasn’t above begging if it meant convincing Olivia how much he loved her and needed her in his life.
Hank answered the door with a frightened-looking Katy in his arms. The little girl’s face brightened when she saw her visitor, and, looking into the girl’s wide brown eyes, Reyn had his answer. He knew what Olivia wanted, knew where he’d made his colossal error with her. He knew what he needed to offer her to win her back. Family. He’d seen how much her family meant to her, seen her volatile reaction to his misguided reaction to her possible pregnancy. The idea of starting a family with Olivia flowed through him and felt so right he thought he’d burst with joy.
After greeting Hank, Reyn gave Katy an encouraging grin. “Hey, cutie, how’re you doing?”
“I was really scared before.”
“I know. But you were very brave, and everything’s going to be okay.” Even as he said the words to Katy, he prayed he was right. Olivia had to listen to him. He had to win her back. Somehow. He met Hank’s wary gaze. “I need to talk to Olivia. Is she here?”
“She was. But she said she needed to do some thinking and took off a little while ago.”
Reyn’s heart sank, but when he scanned the front lawn, wondering what message to leave, he noticed Olivia’s battered car parked at the side of the house. She couldn’t have gone far.
She needed to do some thinking. His spirits rose.
“Thanks,” he told Hank. “I think I know where to find her.”
Chapter Seventeen
Olivia gazed out over the still bayou, a hollow ache inside her. She sat with her legs bent in front of her, her arms propped on her knees and her heart in tatters. But it was her own fault. She should have known she couldn’t make Reyn change if he didn’t want to, that he wouldn’t open himself to her and share his deepest, truest self until he was ready. Not when he had years of practice shutting people out.
Hearing the hollow thud of footsteps on the dock behind her, Olivia dashed the tears from her cheeks and glanced over her shoulder to see who was there.
“Hi,” Reyn said, giving her an anxious smile. “Mind if I join you?”
Her heart constricted. “As a matter of fact, I do. I’ve said all I have to say to you. Please don’t make this harder for me than it is.”
“It’s hard for me too, Olivia. Please just hear me out.”
She buried her face in the crook of her arm. “What?”
“For starters, I know what it’s like growing up without
a father, and if you are pregnant, I want to know about it. I want my kid to know me.”
She blinked at him, not sure she’d heard him correctly. “I thought you didn’t
want—”
“I know what I said.” He cut her off quickly then frowned. “I panicked ’cause things were going too fast, and I was…well, scared of loving you and the idea of being a father.”
She scowled, and he hastened to add, “But I’ve realized some things since then, and I wish I could take back those horrible things I said. If you are pregnant, I want to be part of our child’s life. All right?”
The thought of sharing a child with Reyn, having a tie to him that would keep her wounds open and festering, made her head light and her heart heavy. But how could she deny him such a basic, honorable request?
“Yeah, fine. If I’m pregnant, I’ll let you know, and we’ll work out some kind of visitation schedule.”
She heard his harsh, humorless laugh and raised her head.
“A visitation schedule? Olivia, I don’t want some damn visiting rights.”
She rubbed the spot at her temple that had started to throb and fought to keep her temper. “Then what do you want? Christmas cards? Sunday phone calls? Maybe you’ll stop by in twenty years or so?”
She could tell by the shadow that darkened his eyes that her remark had cut him, and she regretted her jibe. But it was too late to take it back. It was too late for a lot of things.
“No, I want…” He squatted beside her, an earnest appeal in his eyes. “I want to marry you.”
She stared at him, unable to respond for a moment, wishing with every fiber of her being that she could say yes, praying just as hard for the strength to say no. “We can’t get married just because I could be pregnant, Reyn. We wouldn’t—”
He grabbed her hand, surprising her, interrupting her.
“Then marry me because you might not be pregnant.”
A startled laugh bubbled up from throat. She shook her head. “What?”
“Marry me and give me the chance to get you pregnant. Please, Olivia. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life building a family with you.”
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