We’ve lived quietly inside Faye’s head now for hours. I wish the journals were in some sort of order. Faye was clean but not completely orderly. I bet she had these scattered all over her house at one point in time and when she was picking up, she just tossed them into boxes for us to find after her horrible disease stole her from our grasp.
I turn fully to Trig and rest the side of my head against the back of the sofa. “What did you read about?”
He rubs his eyes before he turns to me. Tonight, he’s in a pair of athletic shorts and a Texas Rangers T-shirt that looks so soft, it reminds me of sleeping in his arms last night. “I started off at Easter fifteen years ago, her starting a garden, and more bitching about my dad. The next book skipped a decade and all she talked about was the doctors she worked for, keeping their house clean, and their daughter. The whole book was about the girl’s teenage years. Can’t say it’s my favorite thing to read about people I don’t know, especially a teenager, but it’s almost like talking to her again.”
I snuggle into my sofa. “It’s a gift. One she didn’t know she was giving you but a gift all the same. Thank you for sharing them with me.”
He reaches across the empty cushion sitting between us that feels as large as the ocean, and his touch zips through me, a current that brings something down deep to life. It happens every time and I’ve tried to ignore it. Hell, I’ve even pretended it was something else and turned it to rage, not letting go of my scars. When his fingertips dance with mine, intimately choreographing beautiful images of us from so long ago, he calls for me.
“Angel.”
I open my eyes but don’t move. I’m afraid he’ll take his touch away at the same time I’m scared to death he’ll reach for more. I’m even more scared that I want him to take everything. “Hmm?”
“Don’t worry about Griffin. I started working on it after I left. I won’t let anyone take him from you, even for a three-hour visit.”
“Thank you.” I can’t not worry about it, but that does make me feel better.
“Baby, you’re quiet and you have been all night. What did your dad say to you?”
“Nothing that matters and nothing you need to worry about.” I look down just in time to see his big hand swallow mine, absorbing it possessively, turning that current into an electromagnetic force so strong, I feel it everywhere.
“Come here.” He gives me a yank and I’m pulled and twisted, landing sideways on his lap. “It matters. What did he say?”
Dammit, his T-shirt is as soft as it looks. I’m impressed and wonder if he uses fabric softener.
I shake my head. “Did you know I had an aunt that died when I was little?”
His icy blue eyes turn sharp. “You told me a little about her after we met.”
“Well, she was an addict and it was bad. She disappeared for a couple years … even my dad couldn’t find her. Then, one day, she turned up dead and he blames your uncle and dad because he thinks they were her suppliers.” I shrug and run my hand down his chest. “His reasoning for not wanting me involved with a Barrett.”
He puts his hand to my chin and tips my face to his. “There’s a good chance he could be right about my dad and uncle.”
My answer comes quick. “I know. But you’re not them—not now and not ten years ago.”
He lowers his voice. “I don’t care what your father thinks of me.”
My throat gets thick making my voice rough and weak. “He made me do it.”
Trig frowns and his hand sitting on my hip and ass tighten. “Angel, don’t.”
I shake my head and force the words out because I have to tell him. Tell him I didn’t want to leave him, didn’t want to retract his alibi, and that I never stopped loving him. That when I lost our baby and him, I felt as if I were dying a slow death without ever being put out of my misery.
“You have to know. It’s what I tried to tell you that Thanksgiving. My dad threatened me. No—he threatened you. That if I didn’t retract your alibi and cut you out of my life, he’d have you charged for being with me while I was still seventeen. I knew you didn’t buy the makings for that meth lab, and not because I was your alibi, but because I knew you’d never work with your dad—never be involved in his filth. Your chances of getting off on those charges on your own were good compared to my father coming after you for statutory rape. It was your only chance and I did everything I could to protect you from my father. You have to understand why I did it, please—”
“Baby, stop. I know.”
My body freezes. “What?”
“I said I know. I know everything.”
My breath catches deep in my lungs and my pulse goes haywire.
No.
Just no.
20
