“I’m sorry.” He whispered the same husky words he’d spoken at the funeral the day before. And he meant them, even though he’d been responsible for her demise.
Barely able to process the fact that she was gone, that she’d never again take another breath on this earth, he turned away from the grave site, ready to make his escape. A lone tear escaped from his eyes, and he brushed it away angrily. He couldn’t show any emotions. Not here. Not now.
“You!”
He stopped, immobilized as he heard the voice of the deceased woman’s mother. Unmoving, he let the older woman beat at his back as she wailed, “You killed my daughter. I hope you rot in hell for what you did.”
Turning slowly, he let her slam her fists into his chest. It didn’t hurt. Nothing she could dish out would match the anguish he’d suffered emotionally the last few days. “I’m sorry,” he said to the grief-crazed woman right before she let her hand fly and slapped him across the face so hard that it jerked his head to the right.
“Sorry doesn’t bring my daughter back. You killed her. You killed her. You selfish bastard.” Her voice rose with every word she screamed hysterically.
The words rang through his head, the truth undeniable. His chest heaved with remorse as he let her take her anger out on him. He deserved it. Darkness started to blur his vision as he panted, unable to breathe, imagining the young woman in her casket beneath the ground.
“I killed both of them,” he admitted brokenly, his voice filled with horror as he clawed at empty space to stay upright and conscious.
Jared woke sitting up, his hands clawing at the sheets on the bed, sucking in huge gulps of air. Shuddering, he tried to slow down his breathing as he swiped at the sweat on his forehead.
Not again!
Christ! He thought he’d gotten over his nightmares. It had been a few years since he’d had the one about the funerals, and he’d thought he was finally going to get a permanent reprieve from the fucked-up shit that tortured him while he slept.
He didn’t talk about it.
He didn’t dream about it anymore.
He’d stopped caring—or so he thought.
I shouldn’t have talked about it today.
Jared cursed himself for screwing up as he lay back on his pillows, wondering why in the hell he’d blurted out his sordid secrets to Mara Ross. To her credit, she hadn’t asked any more questions. She’d dropped him off to get his car where he’d parked at the farmers’ market and had said a polite good-bye to him as he’d exited the truck, embarrassed for spilling his guts to her. Granted, his somber mood hadn’t exactly invited any further conversation, but he was fairly certain that he’d probably frightened the shit out of her, rendering her silent.
Why the hell did I tell her? I found peace from nightmares, and I had my control back, dammit. I have for years.
Rolling over in bed, he pounded the pillow, trying to alleviate his jumbled thoughts so he could sleep again. Regardless of how he’d blurted out his dark past to Mara, he still planned on helping her, whether she wanted his help now or not. She was likely afraid of him now—what woman wouldn’t be if he’d blurted out that he was a killer?
It won’t keep me from helping her out, even if I have to do it anonymously now somehow because I opened my big mouth and told her the truth.
Flopping onto his back again, he scowled into the dark as thunder rolled outside, the wind starting to kick up as the rain began to fall. Jared could hear the fat droplets as they plopped against the glass of his bedroom windows.
I wonder if her roof is leaking. I wonder if she’s okay.
He found himself actually counting the days until he could get Mara out of that house, a death trap disguised as a neglected home. Unfortunately, they hadn’t been able to discuss their business any further because he’d been uncomfortable talking about anything after his confession, but he planned on tracking her down early in the morning. He’d stalk her if he had to until she agreed to his terms. Her ability to make a living depended on it.
“Fuck,” he cursed in a harsh whisper as his house vibrated with the next roll of thunder, the lightning momentarily illuminating his massive bedroom. The storm just kept getting worse, the rain pounding against the windows as the howling wind made the droplets come down at an angle. “She’s probably drowning in that damn old house.”
Jared sat up in bed again, frustrated. He wasn’t going to fall back asleep anytime soon. Leaning over, he clicked on the bedside lamp, got out of bed completely nude, and wandered over to the window. The only thing he could see was the beacon of the lighthouse in town, situated at the end of the Amesport Pier. Amazingly, the coastal town actually had a functioning lighthouse. In an era of GPS, radar, and other technology, so many lighthouses didn’t function anymore. Hoping like hell there were actually no boats out in this ferocious storm, he focused his gaze toward the approximate area where he knew Mara’s house was located.