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Desire Collection: December Books 1 – 4. Elizabeth Bevarly
Читать онлайн.Название Desire Collection: December Books 1 – 4
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474081931
Автор произведения Elizabeth Bevarly
Жанр Контркультура
Серия Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
Издательство HarperCollins
“Oh, for goodness’ sake! Will you stop it with the running comments? So I choose to remove myself from situations I’m uncomfortable with. That’s not a crime.”
“No, it’s not a crime.” He closed the distance between them. “Unless by doing so you continue to hurt yourself and anyone who cares about you every time you do it. Faye, you can’t keep living half a life. Your family would never have wanted that for you.”
An arctic chill ran through her veins, freezing her in place and stealing away every thought.
“M-my family? What do you know of my family?”
The sense of anxiety she’d felt before had nothing on the dark hole slowly consuming her from the inside right now. Aside from the police, she’d never spoken to anyone about exactly what had happened on the night of the wreck. How could he know? Why would he?
Piers’s next words were everything she’d dreaded and more. “I know everything. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
His beautiful dark eyes reflected his deep compassion but she didn’t want to see it. Even so, she remained trapped in the moment. Ensnared by his words, by his caring.
“Everything, huh?” she asked bitterly. “Did you know I killed them? That I was the one behind the wheel that night? I killed them all.” She threw the words at him harshly, the constriction of her throat leaving her voice raw.
Shock splintered across his handsome features.
“I thought as much,” she continued bitterly. “That information wasn’t in any report you could commission because it was sealed. So, how much do you love me now that you know I’m a murderer?”
Piers shoved a hand through his hair. His brows drew into a straight line, twin creases forming between them. “How can you say you’re a murderer? You know you didn’t deliberately kill anyone. It was an accident.”
“Was it? I’m the one who pestered my stepdad to let me drive that night. Mom didn’t want me to. She said it was too icy on the road, that I didn’t have the experience. But my stepdad said experience was the only way I’d learn.”
“Even so, from what I read, the gas tanker skidded on the road, not you. You didn’t stand a chance.”
Her mouth twisted as she remembered seeing the tanker coming toward them, relived the moment it jackknifed and began its uncontrollable slide toward their car. She’d been petrified. She’d had no idea what to do, how to avoid the inevitable.
“You’re right, I didn’t. But when it happened, I froze—I didn’t know what to do. If my stepdad had driven instead... If I’d listened to my mom...” Faye’s voice broke and she dragged in a ragged breath before continuing. “If I’d listened to my mom, we might all have been alive today.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No, I’ll never know that. The one thing I do know is that my decisions that night killed my family. And that’s something I can never forget or forgive myself for. My stepdad and my brother died instantly. Henry was only three and a half months old. Don’t you think he deserved to grow up, to have a life? And my mom—I can still hear her screams when I try to sleep at night. The only reason I didn’t burn to death right along with her was because people pulled me from the wreck before the flames took complete hold of the car.”
“Your scars,” Piers said softly. “They’re from the fire?”
Faye nodded. “So you see, I’m not worth loving.”
“Everyone deserves to be loved, Faye. You more than anyone, if only for what you’ve been through. Don’t you think you’ve paid enough? You need to learn to forgive yourself and rid yourself of the guilt that is keeping you from living.”
“I live. That’s my punishment.”
He shook his head emphatically. “You exist. That’s not living. The night we shared at the lodge—that was living. That was reveling in life, not this empty shell of subsistence you endure every day. Take a risk, Faye. Accept my love for you. Learn to love me.”
She’d begun to tremble under the force of emotion in his words.
“I can’t. I can’t care. I won’t.”
“Why?” He pressed her.
“If I love someone again, I’ll lose them. Can’t you see? I did try to love after the crash. I cared for every baby that came into the foster home as if every single one of them was my chance to redeem myself for what I did to Henry. I poured my love and care into each one and you know what happened? Each and every one of them was taken from me again. Either they were re-homed or they were returned to their parents. Every. Single. Time—I lost my baby brother all over again.” Faye hesitated and drew on every last ounce of strength she possessed. “So you’ll forgive me if I don’t ever want to love again.”
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