Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
She’s looking at me, waiting for me to give her what she wants.
I hate showing my scars to anyone, but if it helps her, I’ll show her. Heck, she doesn’t know it, but I’d do anything for her. I lift the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head. With it gripped tightly in my hand, I turn so she can look at me.
Her fingers trace over the mangled skin of my arm and up to my shoulder. She gasps when she gets to the bullet wound that was just inches from my heart. “Kanan.”
I can’t look at her. “It’s fine, Emerson. I survived.”
She circles the wound with her finger, and I hate the way her voice is thick with emotion. “But you almost didn’t, did you? A few inches and you would be gone too.”
I don’t disagree with her. “It should have been me that day.”
Her intake of breath is audible in the still night. “How can you say that?”
I finally meet her eyes. “It’s true. I should have died that day. Maybe then, your dad would still be here.”
She’s shaking her head side to side before I even get it all out. “That’s not true, Kanan.”
There’s true pain reflected on her face, and I regret my words because I know I’m the reason she’s looking so distraught. I reach up and cup her cheek in my hand. “Please don’t cry. I can’t handle any more, and I won’t be the reason you’re sad. I don’t deserve your tears, Em.”
Her mouth falls open, and she snaps it shut. She’s clearly frustrated with me. “How can you say that? To me, of all people? All those years ago, you saved my life, Kanan. You deserve my everything.”
I knew she felt like she owed me. I’m sure that’s one of the reasons she kissed me when she did. She was upset about losing her dad, and I was there for her. It obviously clouded her judgment.
“Emerson, there’s things you don’t know about me and if you did, you wouldn’t think the same of me.”
She lifts her chin at me. “Try me. Tell me and then you’ll know. You won’t wonder. Tell me what you did that was so bad, and then you’ll know exactly what I’m thinking.”
I open my mouth. How many times have I wanted to talk about this with her? Since I got to the rehab center, I started talking to the therapist here. She knows I’m the reason Randall died. She doesn’t agree that it was my fault, but there’s no swaying my thinking on that. But at least someone knows now, and it’s freed some of the weight from my shoulders. But sitting here, looking at Emerson and seeing the trust in her eyes is like I’m buried under the guilt all over again. If it wasn’t for me, she would still have her father here. He would be alive. I want to tell her. I’ve held on to this for too long, but seeing the way she’s looking at me, I know I can’t.
I shake my head and look away from her.
The sigh she lets out is soft and defeated, but it doesn’t stop her from her exploration. Her hands trail along my upper body and then linger when they come across one of my scars. My body tenses under her touch, but I don’t have it in me to stop her. I sit and let her touch me until I feel that I’m going crazy.
Her voice is softer now. “Did all these scars come from that day?”
I shrug. “Most of them. I may have had a few before then, but most of my scars are from that day.”
She leans into me, and having her curves pressed against me is too much. Her breath is like a breeze across my chest when she starts to talk. “I know you think you’re some kind of bad man, Kanan, but you’re not. You’re one of the best men I’ve ever known. And yes, I know that you, Dad, and the others have had to do things that could be considered morally gray, but there’s not a doubt in my mind that anything you did, you did with love and compassion. That’s just who you are.”
I hold in the sigh. She thinks I’m living with regrets of things I’ve done, but it’s not like that. Yes, we’ve had to do a lot of questionable things, but I always knew it was my purpose. Just like bringing her home all those years ago. I had to kill to get her out of there, but I don’t regret a single death that came from my hands because she survived. I don’t know what to say to her, so I say nothing. I know if I tell her about her dad, she’d leave. It would kill me losing her but also because I know she has nowhere to go. I can’t tell her the truth. Not yet. When she’s settled, then I’ll tell her.