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“That bad, huh?”
Another long sigh. “It’s not easy to get through to somebody that their feelings of guilt are unnecessary when they won’t even admit to experiencing such guilt.”
I frowned, trying to read between the lines. “Your mom blames herself for Clear’s suicide?”
“Not quite. But she does feel she could have done more for her.”
“In what way?” I prompted when he said no more.
His gaze resettling on the pool, Dax took a swig of his drink. “My mom always suspected that Clear would kill herself after Bale was executed. She had my grandmother under constant watch, brought her to live with us, got her professional help, but …”
But Clear had thrown herself in front of a bus and then died on the way to the hospital—I’d heard that much. I’d also heard whispers of there having been a suicide note in her pocket that had explained how she’d seen no point in life if she’d had to live it without the man she’d loved.
I swiped my tongue across my lower lip. “Did your grandmother genuinely love Bale?”
“She swore she did, but I don’t know if I’d really call what she felt for him ‘love.’”
When he again fell quiet, I reached over and gently poked the side of his knee. “I get that you’re not much of a sharer and that this has to be areallydifficult matter for you to talk about, but if you won’t speak to me about it, at least call Caelan or Drey. I don’t like the idea of you bottling up all the stuff that’s right now flying through your head.”
His gaze cut back to me. “You really want to hear about this fucked up shit?”
“Not because I find it morbidly fascinating. I just want you to offload everything. You know I’d never repeat any of it.”
“I do know,” he softly confirmed.
The complete confidence with which he said that made my chest pang. “I never met Clear, but I saw her from time to time from afar. What was she like?”
He exhaled heavily and turned away again. I thought he might once more fall silent, but then he spoke.
“It’s easy to assume she must have been fucked in the head to marry a death row convict.” He scratched his chin briefly. “It wasn’t that. She was just a very wounded person who sought safety, protection, and love from the wrong kinds of people.”
I’d seen that behavior before in others. None of those people had gone on to wed a serial killer, but they’d gotten involved with partners who’d been bad for them.
Dax sipped at his whiskey. “She’d known abuse. Pain. Abandonment. Fear. But she hadn’t really processed anything she’d gone through. She’d dissociated instead. Lived in a bubble she’d created, where her world was exactly how she’d wanted it. Being in a relationship with a prisoner who would never be released meant she’d been was ‘safe.’ He could never harm her. Never cheat on her. Never dominate or bully or control her. He’dneededher—she’d been his only real link to the outside world.”
Ah. While it was intellectually understandable, considering the psyche worked in the strangest ways, it was still somewhat difficult to grasp that someone would wish to marry a person like Bale. “She always seemed happy.”
“In her own way, she was. She’d loved me, my brothers, and Raven. Loved my mom with a fierce devotion. But Bale had come first to her, because of how he’d made Clearfeel.Safe. Adored. Needed. Understood. Special. And when he died, she hadn’t been able to bear not having any of that anymore.”
“He was like a crutch, then? She was dependent on him in some ways?”
Dax nodded, his expression turning grimmer. “There was never any changing that. We all tried—me, my siblings, my parents, even Clear’s friends. It made no difference.”
“You can’t help people who don’t want help or can’t see that they need it,” I softly pointed out, detecting that Kensey wasn’t the only person in this picture who felt guilty for not having been able to reach Clear. “You were all good to your grandmother. A lot of people would have kicked her out of their lives, all things considered. Your family did the opposite, despite everything.” Which couldn’t have been anything close to easy. “Any feelings of guilt here are misplaced.”
“Yes. And my mom knows that deep down, but it doesn’t make much difference. What adds to her guilt is that they fought so much. They didn’t used to. Not until after I was born. Clear would try pushing her to take me to see Bale. My mom refused, but Clear never let up over the years. She was the same regarding each of my siblings.”
“I can’t say I blame Kensey for keeping you all away from him.” I doubted I’d have taken my children to a maximum security facility to meet a man who had butchered women.
“It hurt her that Clear would push and push even as she saw how her relationship with Bale affected her grandchildren’s lives. But in Clear’s mind, he was a changed, misunderstood man who loved his family.” Dax shrugged one shoulder. “As I said, she lived in her own personal bubble.”
I nibbled on my bottom lip. “Did you ever want to see him?”
“No. I won’t lie, I was curious about him. Curious about what was in the letters he wrote to me. He used to hand them to Clear and ask her to pass them on—my mom held them back, though. She did the same with the letters he wrote to my brothers and Raven as well.”
Personally, I felt it was best that Kensey had done so. “Did you ever ask to read them?”
“No. The only reason Bale was reaching out to me was to try to infiltrate my mom’s personal life. He saw her as his daughter. His angel. His bright spot. He cared for her in a way that only someone like him could care for another person. He didn’t like that he saw so little of her.”
