“I know,” I agreed.
“He raped her face. I’m not a woman, I can’t call it but I’m guessin’ that isn’t much better than violating other parts of her.”
I was a woman but I luckily didn’t know either. That said, my guess, it wasn’t.
“I didn’t know that,” I reminded him.
“You knew she was dead,” he returned.
I did know that.
I remained silent because he had a point. But I stayed where I was because I felt I did too.
We held each other’s eyes in silence and this lasted a long time before Chace ended it.
“Never hurt you.” His voice was soft but firm. A vow.
“You scared me,” I told him.
“No, honey, you scared me.”
“What?” I whispered but he heard it because he answered.
“Anything happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”
“Chace –”
“You in my life, me livin’ in hell, feels like I’ve been touched by an angel.”
I stopped breathing.
Was he serious?
“Anything happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do,” he repeated.
He was serious.
I forced air in my lungs.
Chace kept talking.
“See them in my head, her footprints in the dirt on the trail. She was wearin’ heels. She stumbled. She fell. He drove her on. Her knee prints in the clearing where he violated her. They were yours, those were your last moments, no drama, no joke, I’d lose my mind.”
“It haunts you,” I said softly but he again heard me.
“Damn straight. I didn’t want her but that didn’t make her not mine.”
Oh God, Laurie was right.
I stood and reminded him, “You didn’t kill her, Chace.”
“I didn’t protect her either.”
Oh God. Laurie was so right.
“Has it occurred to you that you couldn’t even if you tried?” I asked.
“Yeah, Faye, but I also didn’t try,” he answered instantly.
Oh God.
I reminded him of something else. “She trapped you into marriage.”
“That make it okay she died that way?” he asked swiftly.
“Of course not,” I answered just as swiftly.
He studied me a moment before asking, “You’re so okay with Misty gettin’ done the way she did and me holdin’ no responsibility for that, why are you so far away?”
At that, I moved to him, I did it quickly, setting my wineglass on the counter as I rounded it and went right to him. He turned to me as I got close and I fitted my front to him, rested my hands on his chest and tipped my head back to look right in his eyes.
“I suppose,” I began to give in, “since I’m not doing anything else as stupid as being the de facto ringleader of a band of amateur computer sleuths, I won’t have to be worried you’ll get that pissed at me again so I also suppose this conversation is moot.”
He lifted a hand, slid my hair off my shoulder than wrapped his fingers around the side of my neck, his other hand still curled around his beer on the counter and his lips twitching as he noted, “Bet I’m the only man banging a woman in Carnal who uses the words ‘de facto’.”
“This is likely,” I murmured and his fingers at my neck gave me a squeeze.
His voice was low and serious when he ordered, “You forget what you know about those men, who they are, whatever they uncovered and shared with you.”
I nodded.
“You tell anyone about that shit?”
I shook my head.
“Think hard, Faye. Lexie? Lauren? Even Twyla?”
I kept shaking my head and whispered, “No, Chace. No one. I even lied to Krys, Lexie and Lauren when I let it slip about going to Harker’s Wood and I never lie. Or um, I very rarely lie.” God! No more lying! “No one knows,” I concluded.
“Right,” he muttered.
I took in a breath then I leaned deeper into him and asked quietly, “How do I help you let go the responsibility you feel for what happened to Misty?”
“Don’t get dead like her,” he replied immediately.
“Okay,” I whispered hoping a frak of a lot I managed that then went on, “But other than that.”
His eyes moved over my face as his hand slid up to my jaw then his thumb slid over my lips before going back and he answered, “No fuckin’ clue, baby.”
I was still whispering when I told him, “I hate that happened to her.”
“Me too,” he whispered back.
“I don’t know what happened but maybe, if she was playing with fire, with Arnold Fuller, what she did with Ty, maybe it was her who got herself burned.”
Chace pulled in a breath.
Then he admitted softly, “She was playin’ with fire.”
There it was. A little of his “dark”. Not much but a little. Thank God.
“She didn’t deserve it but it isn’t your fault,” I told him softly.
“Okay, Faye.”