Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
ABBY
Dearest Abigail,
When I was pregnant with your father, I prayed so hard for a little girl. I know how awful that sounds, and I hope you’ll never think ill of me. Heaven knows how much I loved your father and always will. But ever since I was a young girl, I wished for a daughter to call my own.
Then God gave me you.
My heart sang with joy, and I knew I had to protect you at all costs. You are precious to me. You always have been.
If you are reading this, my sweet child, please forgive me. I have crossed over to eternal life and have left you with a great burden. You must understand why I did what I did. Love comes in many forms—it is not always chocolates and roses and candy hearts.
It is hard choices. It is sacrifice.
Pain.
I cannot shield you from all the horrors of this Earth, but I can do what I can to protect your heart the only way I know how.
We all have our blessings in life, and I have been blessed with financial security.
I chose to use my blessings to protect you from a terrible tragedy. From a terrible truth.
Sweet Abigail, I know you never meant to hurt anyone.
Your heart is pure and kind. Accidents are part of life, and I pray you will find peace one day.
Your parents loved you more than life itself, and I know they are looking down on you with pride.
No one blames you for what happened. It was a cruel twist of fate. Please know that.
I have saved what I could over the last year and have given your brother a box.
I asked Ryan to give you this box if you ever uncovered the truth one day.
It doesn’t erase what happened, nor the pain you are inevitably feeling, but I pray that it provides you with the answers I was never able to give you.
Forgive me, child. Do not think less of me. You are the daughter I never had, and I only ever tried to do what was best for you.
Stay strong. Be brave. Never lose your fighting spirit, your sense of humor, or your beautiful heart.
You are special, Abigail. You are a bright light in a dark world.
And always remember this: life is not black and white.
It is gray.
We are all gray.
Love Always,
Nana Cecily
“Ithought I’d find you here.”
I walked along the dock, spotting Cooper sitting at the edge with his feet dunked in the water. A late-summer breeze swept up my hair, tangling it into knots, much like the feeling in the pit of my stomach. My bare feet slapped against the wood planks as he turned around to watch me approach.
“It’s a pretty sunset,” Cooper said, gazing back out at the water. The surface rippled with brilliant orange and yellow light as he glanced back at me. “Sit with me?”
Smiling, I continued my trek to the edge of the pier. I smoothed out my dress and took a seat, carefully seating myself beside him. My chest wound ached, but I ignored it.
My heart ached more.
We sat in a comfortable silence while the sun set lower in the sky. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he finally glanced in my direction, leaning into me with a sigh.
“I’ve missed you,” he said softly.
I closed my eyes, breathing in his words, his scent, his essence.
My toes danced along the surface of the water, my thoughts scattered.
A week had gone by since I’d been released from the hospital.
I had decided to stay with Daphne while I recovered, since my beautiful home was a crime scene now.
A house of horrors. Cooper had been hurt when I’d turned down his offer to stay with him, but it wasn’t because I didn’t want to—I did want to.
All I could think about was kissing him goodnight and waking up beside him every morning.
But I couldn’t.
It was too much. There was so much damage lurking in the aftermath, and I refused to sweep it under the rug.
I was not a killer, but I had killed. I’d been responsible for the loss of six innocent lives. My parents. James Walker. Christopher Larkin, his wife, and…
“He had a son, you know.” I spoke the words before I’d thought them through. “Chad. His son’s name was Chad Larkin.”
Cooper regarded me with troubled eyes. “I know.”
“He was only seven years old at the time of the accident. He had his whole life ahead of him.”
“Abby, you can’t think about that.”
My head jerked toward him. “I have to think about that.” My tone was firm, unyielding. “He deserves to be acknowledged. Remembered. They all do.”
“It was an accident,” Cooper insisted.
I looked back out at the water, envious of its tranquility.
It had so much going on beneath its surface, and yet it managed to remain so peaceful on the outside.
“It still happened.” I dipped my chin to my chest, twisting the hem of my dress between my fingers.
“He died this past May,” I whispered. “Larkin’s son…
he died from his injuries sustained in the accident. That was the trigger.”
Cooper swept both hands through his hair and leaned back on his palms. His jaw tensed as he stared straight ahead. “I know,” he repeated. “I looked into it. I researched everything I could on Larkin and his family.”
I nodded, assuming he already knew. “It makes sense,” I told him. “It makes sense why he went after me after all these years.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Cooper sat back up, shifting toward me. “Abby, he was a sick man. His actions were inexcusable.”
“He was a devastated man,” I corrected, “He lost everything. I took everything from him. A broken heart is a powerful thing.”
“You’re a victim in all of this, too. Don’t do this to yourself.” Cooper reached over, cradling my face between his hands and forcing my eyes on his. “I almost lost you twice. I refuse to lose you now.”
I melted into his touch, my emotions climbing my chest and bursting in the back of my throat. I let out a small cry, a whimper, and pulled away.
Then I stood to my feet, unable to face him. Unable to say what I needed to say.
“Abby…” Cooper called out, following me out to the middle of the dock.
I whipped around, the wound in my chest screaming with resistance. Doctors told me I was supposed to take it easy while my body healed from its trauma, and I found a shred of amusement in the order.
Take it easy.
Nothing was ever easy.
“My grandmother paid him ten-thousand dollars a month for twelve years,” I told Cooper, tears brimming in my eyes.
“They made a deal. Nana would cover Chad’s medical bills for as long as she was living, and Larkin would remain silent.
He would never talk about the accident.” Cooper approached me, but I stepped back, pretending like I didn’t notice the wounded look on his face.
“Then Nana died,” I continued. “She died, and then Chad died, and Larkin had nothing left. No wife, no child, no money, no hope. All he had was me.”
“Abby, stop.”
I didn’t stop. I would never stop. “How can you even look at me?” I asked, my voice dipping, my head swinging back and forth with quiet outrage. “How can you still want me after what happened to James? To your sister?”
“Because I fucking love you!” Cooper stormed over to me, giving me no chance to protest. He grasped my face between his hands again and pulled me close. “I love you, Abby. There’s nothing you could ever do to make me stop loving you.”
Tears flowed freely, dampening my cheeks, my nose, my quivering lips.
Cooper kissed my forehead before pressing it to mine. “I know your heart. It’s beautiful and kind and compassionate and raw. You are not the person you think you are. God…I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”
Why was he making this so hard?
Why was he making this impossible?
I shuddered and sobbed as he held me, his thumbs dusting the tears from my cheeks.
When I glanced up, I saw my reflection in his eyes, and there was a moment, a moment so pure, so fleeting—a moment where I did see that girl.
I was sixteen again, carefree and spirited.
I saw myself dancing in my parents’ backyard, twirling around in a circle, my arms outstretched and as light as a feather.
I had nothing heavy to carry. I was untouched, untainted.
Blissfully unaware of the tragedies that loomed on the horizon.
I could almost smell my father’s barbeque chicken cooking on his favorite grill while my mother’s laughter trickled out through the patio doors.
But then Cooper blinked.
And I was back on the dock.
I wasn’t that girl anymore, and I would never be that girl again.
Cooper must have sensed a shift in me, so he leaned down to place a kiss on my mouth. It was our first kiss since the hospital. It was soft and sweet, and it made my body rise to seek more contact.
Cooper pulled back slightly, his eyes dancing across my face, searching for something.
A familiar tingle ignited deep in my belly when I felt the mood between us deviate.
The somber haze faded as a new haze swept through.
He wanted me. I could see it his hazel eyes as they burned into mine. I felt it in the way he tugged me closer, tighter. I heard it in his heartbeats.
And God, I wanted him, too.
I leaned up and kissed him hard, reaching behind his head and pulling him to me.
A groan rumbled deep in his chest as I deepened the kiss with a trace of desperation.
There was something reckless and urgent in my need for him.
Our tongues collided as Cooper’s hands trailed down my backside to press me fully against him, our pelvises grinding together as my body arched into him.
“Inside,” I murmured into his mouth, out of breath and hardly able to remain standing.
Cooper lifted me with ease, with careful, gentle ease, and carried me across the yard and through his back door.
He hauled me over to the nearest piece of furniture, and we collapsed onto his couch with me straddling him, already tugging at his belt.
My hands were frantic, shaking, yearning.
Cooper’s eyes were embers, searing right through me and making me burn. I needed more, needed all of him.
Hands were everywhere, mouths sloppy and full of haste, clothes being yanked off and thrown across the room.
There was something primal between us. An ache.
A void that needed to be filled. I had looked death in the eyes and Cooper knew that.
My own mortality had hung in the balance, along with the grim possibility we would never touch each other again.
Never feel each other’s warmth, flesh, or beating hearts.
It fueled our fire as he pulled at my hair and I nibbled his neck.
Tasting, feeling, needing.
Cooper began to lift my dress over my head, but I faltered, grabbing his hands.
“What is it?” His voice was full of gravel and lust, and it made me whimper as I swiveled my hips against his lap. He moaned and tried to pull my dress up again.
“No,” I breathed out, stopping him. “I don’t want you to see me.”
It took a moment for the words to penetrate the heated fog.
Cooper blinked, then slowly ran his hands up under my dress like he was memorizing every curve, every dip, every bend.
Like he was cherishing every single piece of me.
I melted into his touch, forgetting my insecurities, forgetting my fear that he would be repulsed by my battle scar.
Cooper lifted the dress over my head, his gaze landing on the healing wound in the center of my chest. I stiffened, unsure how to proceed, unsure what he was thinking.
I swallowed. “It’s ugly.”
His eyes raised to mine, confused and flickering with audacity.
“There is nothing about you that’s ugly, Abby.
” He leaned forward and placed a featherlight kiss to the evidence of my trauma.
“Your scar will be a testament to all you’ve been through.
All you’ve overcome. There is only beauty in something like that,” he said, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and pulling me forward, relighting the fire.
I squirmed against him, scratching my nails down his chest and relishing in the sounds he made.
Our mouths were fused together as I lifted up and sheathed myself onto his cock.
When I broke away, our eyes locked, and I began to move.
I rocked up and down, savoring every inch of him, the heat, the magic, and the undeniable force that made me crave him in a way I’d never craved anything before.
I liked taking control, enjoyed the moans I evoked from his mouth and the way I brought him to his knees with a twirl of my hips.
I had little control over anything in my life, but I had control over this moment.
Cooper’s arms encircled me, his hands gliding up my back as I moved and swayed.
His fingers threaded through my hair as he kissed me soundly, the tension and fire building and swelling.
We peaked together, and it was powerful, soul-shattering, almost too much to bear.
I fell against him as the aftershocks rippled through me.
And then I broke.
With my face pressed to the curve his neck, I buried my nose in his cedar-scented wisps of hair and purged my grief like a monsoon. I clung to him, held him close. His hands ran through my hair and down along my back as he whispered sweet words of consolation into my ear.
Cooper understood that I needed this emotional release as much as the physical one. He recognized that I stood on the precipice of grief, teetering the edge of a breakdown from which I might never fully recover. He was aware of the fragility of my heart.
What he didn't know was that I was grieving…for him.
Unbeknownst to Cooper, I had already made up my mind.
I would be gone by sunrise.
For just as a fallen star needed the night sky to reignite its brilliance…
This wounded little bird needed to fly away to mend her broken wings.