Now she was getting somewhere. “What did your father do to you?”
“Not me. Two days after he was released from the slammer, he raped two eighteen-year-olds. Mary Hammers was one of them, and she had to bear the burden of carrying me.” He fisted one hand and punched his other palm. “I’m surprised I ever survived my birth.”
She covered his fist with both her hands. “So you feel as if you have to pay for what your father did?”
“My birth should never have happened, which means my ruthless father’s line ends with me.” He pulled away, strode up the beach and disappeared into the dark interior of the jungle.
An innocent child, not at fault for how he’d been conceived, shouldn’t have to pay for the sins of his father. No wonder he’d never told anyone the truth. She ran after him, barely catching the crunch of his step somewhere far ahead.
Low branches scraped her shoulders and face as she stumbled in the pitch black. Prickly bracken stung her bare feet, and whatever moonlight shone above, hadn’t a chance of penetrating the dense foliage overhead.
Long minutes passed with no trace of his movement.
She knocked into a trunk, bent and caught her breath. An owl hooted.
“Ben!” She screamed his name. “I need you.”
Crashing surf rumbled close, but he didn’t reply. She trekked toward the roaring ocean, plowed through the tree line and tumbled down a sand dune onto her bottom. Moonlight trickled over the secluded area scattered with driftwood and seaweed.
Clutching her chest, she willed her racing heartbeat to slow. Ben was safe even though running from his problems. She’d find him. She had to. She controlled her breathing, slowly in and slowly out as the therapist had instructed her if panic set in. With no time to lose, she shoved to her feet and set out in pursuit of her bodyguard.
She’d never abandon him as so many others had done.
He was hers to care for.
Arms pumping, Ben ran. Voices played in his head, those of the foster parents he’d been shipped from one to the next from. He was the son of a rapist, a man who deserved to die. They’d pitied him, but pity wouldn’t get him anywhere in life. The moment he’d turned eighteen, he’d gotten as far away from anyone who’d ever known the terrible circumstances of his birth as he could. With limited funds, he’d joined the army, and there he’d met Brigs and Tyler. All these years, he’d never spoken a word beyond the bare necessities, and now he’d blabbed every damning detail to Saria. As soon as the knowledge sank in, she too would pity him. He shouldn’t have told her.
Exhausted after crossing a mile of jungle, he stumbled through the trees and onto the white sand beach. The stars twinkled above.
At least he was alone, like he’d always been.
He sank onto the sand and fell back.
Hell, he’d done his best to carve out something for himself, even giving up the dream of having a family. No woman should ever have to bear his children knowing they too would face the same ridicule he had while growing up.
“Ben!”
He sat upright.
Saria ran down the beach, her short white dress illuminated by the moonlight and her dark locks swaying around her waist. She appeared a vision, one he wanted to hold onto, but he had to end their time together. Being with her would never work.
“Here,” he called out, not wanting her running aimlessly around the island in search of him.
“There you are.” She dashed toward him, fell onto her knees then toppled him onto his back as she sprawled over top. “I was so worried. You’ve never run from me like that before.”
“I wasn’t running from you, but letting you go.”
“Right now, I’m not going anywhere.” She kissed him, her breath hot as it mingled with his. “I want every one of those twenty-four hours you promised me.”
“Well, you’re out of luck.” He gripped her arms and instilled some distance, an inch, but one necessary inch. “My father is a rapist, the scum of the earth.”
“And you’re the exact opposite, my thirty-two-year-old virgin.”
“Ex-virgin.”
“Which I’m rather pleased about.” She kissed him again and he wanted to rip her clothes off and take everything she offered except she would never be his. For her own good, he had to let her go.
“I don’t want you, Saria.”
“You’re not responsible for what your father did, or for your mother’s actions when she handed you over into the foster system. I can’t even imagine the pain and anguish she must have gone through, but at least she gave you your life, and for that I’ll be immensely grateful.”
“I said my father was a rapist.”
“I heard you the first time, but that doesn’t change who you are. You would die to protect me. I know your true heart.”