He wanted to pull her back into bed and hold her closely until she slept. But then, in the morning, she would have her guard back up and not tell him the truth. Maybe she hadn’t deliberately lied to him. Maybe she’d so compartmentalized her emotions that she didn’t even remember why she was upset, the only remnants of her angst being fatigue.
He gave her a few more minutes. He kissed her forehead, brushed her damp hair back with his free hand. Then he picked her up and carried her to the oversized chair in the corner of their bedroom. She liked to read in this chair, and while it wasn’t quite big enough for two people, with Lucy on his lap they fit perfectly. He readjusted the blanket to cover her.
“What are you scared about? What do you fear?”
She swallowed. With a rough voice she said, “Jack asked me the same thing.”
“And what did you say?”
“I don’t know. That’s what I told him.”
“And now?”
She didn’t say anything and tried to shift away from him, but he held her tight.
“Lucy, tell me. You know, don’t you?”
A small cry escaped from her throat and she turned her face into his chest.
I never wanted you to see me like that.
It was what she’d said when she was hysterical. And then it clicked.
“Oh, God, Lucy, no.”
He pulled her head up to look at her face. Her eyes were red and swollen. Her face flushed. And still she was shaking.
“Lucy, listen to me. I’ve never watched it. Never. Not even one second. We both know what happened to you. And dammit, I will never let it come between us. I love you. I love you. We’re going to figure this out.”
“You make me feel. And sometimes, I don’t want to.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
“This last year, the nightmares were gone. I thought forever. I no longer felt like I was teetering on the brink of the abyss. Before you, the only thing that mattered to me was justice. Fighting for others. When I helped people, when I saved victims, I was on the right side of sanity. I don’t think anyone knew how … tightly I was wound. Maybe you did…” Her voice trailed off.
“Lucy—”
She continued. “But the nightmares are back, and they’re worse. I feel so helpless again, because there is still so much pain and suffering and I can’t stop it.”
“Of course you can’t. To put that weight on your shoulders will suffocate you. You’ve done more in a few years than most people do in their lifetime. Michael is alive because of you. Toby. The other boys.”
“Not all of them.”
“That’s not on you!” He didn’t want to yell, but how could she blame herself for not saving everyone? That was insane.
“I know, but…” Her voice trailed off. Lucy, the expert in holding back her emotions, was truly one of the most compassionate and empathic people he’d ever met. But the intensity of her emotions made what she suffered so much worse, hence the need to shut everything down. The battle inside tore her apart. Sean ached for her.
Sean let her head fall back to his chest and she started to relax. It was what had happened in Mexico two months ago that had instigated the nightmares, but it wasn’t because of the boys that she had them. It was because she feared that Sean would see her as a victim.
He’d never watched the video that the bastard Trask had live-streamed for the perverts who paid to watch Lucy be raped repeatedly. Her brothers had seen parts of it while they’d searched for her, and maybe that contributed to Lucy’s anguish. She’d gone through therapy, but someone like Lucy was good at playing the therapy game, giving the counselor what she needed to hear.
But tonight she’d told him the truth. She didn’t have to go into the details; neither of them needed to hear them. It was the conclusion that mattered: that Lucy’s fear was about how Sean saw her.
“Mona Hill knows about the video,” Lucy suddenly said.
Sean tensed. He tried not to, but he couldn’t control his reaction. Lucy froze in his arms. “What happened?”
“She didn’t know, not until she saw me. I never forget a face, she said. And I knew. The truth was in her eyes.”
That Sean could remain calm was a testament to his maturity. Because he wanted to kill Mona Hill. And after what he’d learned while digging into her past, she deserved to die.
“I won’t let that woman—I won’t let anyone—hurt you.”
“I have to face the truth.”
He didn’t like the monotone in her voice. “What truth?”
“That people who know me will see it. And when they do, they won’t be able to hide the truth in their eyes.”
“Lucy,” he said, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. Together. You are not in this alone.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN