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"I do." I curl my fingers around her wrist and tug on it. And when she lowers her hand, I weave my fingers through her much daintier ones. She doesn’t resist, thank fuck. "Baron and Ava know what happened, but none of the others know exactly what went down. They suspect, of course, but they’ve never pushed me to open up. Not the way you have."
Her eyes fill with pain and empathy and so much love, and that’s my undoing. This woman—she understands me the way no one has. I've been unfair to her; the way I’ve treated her is all wrong, and yet, she’s here for me. "You should leave; you should walk away from me."
"That would be the easy way out."
"If you stay, it’s going to be harder on you."
"Maybe,"—she squeezes my fingers—"but it'll be worth it."
"It scarred me, what happened. We were held for a month—"
"A month?" she gasps.
"By the time the cops found us, we had all suffered in different ways. It bonded us together, but it also made us feel different from everyone else. We didn’t feel like we belonged. It made us emotionless, angry men who pursued wealth and power to fill that emptiness inside us."
"Were the perpetrators ever found?"
"Much later, and not by the police. Thanks to the investigators we employed over the years, we tracked down those responsible. But that’s not all.”
I look away then back at her. “The person who provided information about us to the kidnappers, and thanks to whom the perpetrators had enough leads to abduct the seven of us... That person walked into my church for confession when I was a priest.”
She draws in a sharp breath. “What...what did you do?”
I shift my weight from foot to foot. "Turned out, he went to the same school as us, which is how he was able to spy on us. But he was repentant about what he’d done. He needed redemption. He wanted to confess his sins and be forgiven. And I… I couldn’t forgive him."
"Of course, not.”
I look into her eyes and all I see is understanding.
“He asked me for forgiveness, and I... I wrapped my fingers around his throat and squeezed the life out of him.”
67
Mira
“You took his life?” I swallow.
He nods. "The kidnappers… They made Baron and me touch each other, and bugger each other, and… I hurt my best friend." He squeezes the bridge of his nose. "And to find the man responsible for everything that happened was in my church, confessing his sins and asking me for forgiveness, felt like a cruel twist of fate.” He lowers his hand and meets my gaze. “I couldn’t stop the anger and the hate inside me from pouring out. I couldn’t stop myself.” He curls his fingers into fists, and an expression of anguish twists his features.
“I was a priest. What I did went against everything I believed in. Everything I had spent my life in pursuit of, until that point.”
"What you are is human."And what I should be is more shocked.I should leave. After all, I’m standing in the presence of someone who killed another person. Someone whose life was changed forever, through no fault of his own. Someone who was forced to do the most reprehensible things, which scarred him forever. Someone who’s coming clean and sharing his deepest secrets with me. It's not easy for him to do so and yet, he's doing it anyway.If I were in his place, would I have done the same thing? I’ll never know.
What Idoknow is, this is Eddie, my husband, and I don’t hate him. Far from it, I’m finally beginning to grasp the motivations behind what he does. Why he’s so aloof. Why he’s put up so many walls between himself and the world. Why, he's so paranoid about my safety. Everything he’s been through has taken his trust in the world and forced him to be ever-alert to the dangers around him. Finally, I understand him better. I get why he's so protective of me and fears for my safety. I square my shoulders.
“You did the right thing.”
His gaze widens.
“I can’t even fathom how you went through everything you did and are still a functioning member of society. If what you did helped you find some peace then, so be it.”
“Belle,” he whispers.
“Are you surprised I’m not freaking out more?” I half smile.
“A little.” He lowers his chin.
“How can I be upset when, clearly, that man was responsible for the trauma that you and your friends had to deal with?”
