Chapter 21 #2
Ryan narrowed his gaze. “Fuck. Kingston’s death wasn’t an accident, was it?”
Of course, the guy figured it out. Sebastian kept his mouth shut.
Ryan processed everything Sebastian wasn’t saying. “And you’re telling me you just froze?”
He nodded again.
Ryan’s expression mirrored Nora’s. “She was a kid.”
“I know.”
“She’d been raped and tortured.”
“I know! He got what he deserved, the sick motherfucker.” He gripped his head between his hands, pulling at his hair.
“Then why the hell didn’t you tell her that?”
Sebastian’s jaw clenched. “I couldn’t… I was thinking about her as a twelve-year-old girl having to do that, and I was so angry I couldn’t get the right words out.”
“You were horrified for her, not by her.”
He scowled. “Of course.”
Ryan pursued his lips in frustration. “But you didn’t tell her that?”
Sebastian opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He shook his head.
“Jesus Christ, Sebastian. That woman handed you a secret she’s been carrying for twenty years, and you didn’t give her a hug and an attagirl?”
“She said she only remembered the truth after we... Huh.” He swallowed. “Yeah.”
“That must be some magic dick you have in your pants.”
“I’m being fucking serious, Ryan.”
“So am I. Look, shithead,” Ryan put his face close to Sebastian’s and whispered. “For some reason the two of you clicked when you don’t usually look at a woman on or off an op unless it’s to assess danger or competence. Whether she’s telling the truth about just remembering or not—”
“She’s telling the truth.” Anger had him gritting his teeth. “Why would she lie about that?”
“Then,” Ryan continued, patiently, “you need to apologize and explain that you are an emotionally repressed fuckwit who doesn’t know how to deal with other people’s feelings.”
“I’m not emotionally repressed.”
“You are when it comes to women.”
“Which makes you what? Emotional diarrhea?”
Ryan sighed. “Dude.” He shook his head. “You want my help or not?”
“Yes.” He scrubbed his face, pretty sure the guy could see he’d been crying. “Of course I do. But I can’t apologize in front of everyone, and I doubt she’ll let me near her alone now.”
“Find a way to talk to her. Because if you don’t fix this mess soon, you’re going to lose her forever.”
Sebastian closed his eyes.
Ryan clapped him on the back. “Now I’m going to run the perimeter and check in with Donnelly while you figure out how much groveling is enough and then double it.”
Sebastian nodded and dragged his feet to the front porch, where he sat woodenly on the steps as Ryan drifted away.
The cabin behind him was quiet as everyone had settled down to sleep. He stared out at the blue onyx of the sky and the pinpricks of light from stars a billion miles away.
His mind ran through every moment since he’d met Nora, every mistake he’d made. Her devotion to her dog. Her dedication to the search. Her smarts. His delving into her background, not just because of the team but also because of his own curiosity, he admitted now.
The opportunities he’d had to tell her that he’d known about her past—and hadn’t. Her falling through the ice and the desperate race to save her life. Then, somehow magically kissing her, making love to her, sleeping with her for the best few hours of his life.
Her nightmare and screams, which had cut through his psyche like the sharpest blade.
Then this morning’s arrogant assertion that everything was okay because he already knew her deepest darkest secret. Her reaction in the aftermath to what she must have seen as a terrible personal betrayal shredded him.
What a fucking ass he was.
And then for her to confess everything to him, the most shameful thing she carried in her heart, while he’d stood there like a block of wood.
Whatever had been going on inside his head didn’t matter.
He knew what it was like to endure something you couldn’t talk about. No matter his intent, she’d stood there alone dealing with it.
He’d wanted her to trust him—and she had. Then he’d fucked it up because he didn’t know how to be vulnerable.
How did he fix that?
How did he change who he was? Because he realized with sudden clarity, she hadn’t been asking him to fix anything. She’d only been asking for basic understanding and support. For him to stand with her in that moment and confront that reality head on. No words. No excuses. No plan.
Simple acceptance for however she wanted to deal with this information that she’d remembered while asleep in his arms.
It was the last realization that gave him a modicum of hope. It wasn’t his magic dick. It was the fact he’d made her feel safe and secure enough to remember, to trust him. And if he’d done that once, he could do it again. Didn’t matter how long it took or how much she froze him out to start with.
Patience was a virtue, and as a sniper, he’d honed his into one of his greatest strengths.
She didn’t have to forgive him. She didn’t even have to care about him the way he cared about her. She just had to know that he supported her. Believed in her. Did not judge the actions of a frightened, traumatized twelve-year-old girl.
Hell, age was irrelevant in this circumstance. The fact she’d been a child made it a thousand times worse, but even if this had happened last week or a decade from now, she’d done the right thing. She’d saved herself.
He’d wept for the child she’d been, but he would fight tooth and nail for the woman she’d become.
He’d screwed up but he could do better. Be better. Be the kind of man she needed, not just in her bed, but in her life. One way or another, he was going to earn her trust by standing at her side and doing the work.
He just hoped it would be enough.