Page 72 of Her Devoted HERO

“Sit down.” He positioned her on the bed, then crouched in front of her.

She looked into his worried brown eyes. “I’m all right. Really, I am. I won’t clean even.” She looked past him to the window. If she didn’t clean, and she didn’t go to work, what was she going to do?

“Kenna―”

“Nope. I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.” She looked past him to the window. There was bird shit on the screen. It needed cleaning. She turned back to Dex, “I just don’t get it, ya know? I didn’t do anything different than a lot of other women. I thought it was okay. Did I really do something that bad?”

“Baby, no.”

“But I must have. I should never have set up a profile, and if I did, I should have...” Her shoulders slumped. She didn’t know what. It was beyond her. An image of Jean in green corduroy jeans and a gold sweater, having a beer in her backyard. She’d been laughing.

“Baby, you need to stop crying.”

What was he saying?

Another time, Jean had been at the hospital crying because a young father had died from injuries sustained in a car wreck. Kenna preferred the laughing Jean, but she’d probably been crying when she died...or screaming.

“Do you think she screamed? Did he make Jean scream?” she asked Dex.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” he said hoarsely.

“You’re right, he didn’t make her scream, I made her scream. It was because of me.” Pretty, laughing Jean. She got her killed. Murdered. Tortured. All because she hadn’t been nice to a man. It made no sense, it hurt her heart, it hurt her head. She gasped out a wrenching sob.

“I have you.” And he did. She fell forward into Dex’s arms.

She clutched his shoulders and let a river of pain drown his shirt, his neck. He said nonsense things. Things that she couldn’t hear or comprehend, but they made her feel better. He finally eased her back up on the bed. She hiccupped.

“Wait here.” He got up and got her a mound of tissue. She sobbed and mopped and blew and then was able to breathe in a steady breath.

Dex rested his hands on her thighs. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I talk you out of believing this isn’t your fault?”

She shook her head; her hair went flying. He tamed it back and cupped her cheeks. His brown eyes were intense.

“Okay, then I need you to talk yourself out of believing it wasn’t your fault. Close your eyes.”

She looked at him confused.

“Baby, just do it. Close your eyes. Trust me.”

Slowly she did. Jean smiled gently at her, then was gone. Her eyes shot open.

“Close them, Baby. I want to do an exercise.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. In her mind, she said good-bye to Jean, then closed her eyes.

“Hold Austin’s hands, can you do that? He’s crying.” Kenna cringed. But she pictured it. “Ten years from now the exact thing that is happening in your life is happening in his. He decided to meet someone and join a dating site. Other men are getting killed by some unknown female, and he knows he’s to blame. He knows it Kenna, and he’s inconsolable.”

She opened her eyes.

His hand brushed over her lids. “Keep them closed,” he whispered gently. “He’s a target, Kenna. Austin is a target of this madwoman, but he thinks it’s his fault. He thinks the men who died should hate him. And Austin is a victim. Can you help him let it go? Can you help him past that bullshit in his head?”

She tilted her head upwards and opened her eyes, avoiding Dex’s gaze.

Dex was right. It would kill her if Austin were taking on that burden. Was she really going to go through the bullshit of thinking this was her fault? Really? Could she be responsible for some maniac? She tilted her head back down to Dex.