Redeeming Her SEAL (ASSIGNMENT Caribbean Nights #9) - Kat Cantrell Page 0,47
him apart when he had flashbacks. Images wheeled through his mind’s eye, and the jumble of his thoughts warred with the spike through his gut as he imagined her dealing with such a huge loss on her own.
But she hadn’t been alone, he realized. Someone with a keen nose for vulnerability had sniffed out a woman in emotional crisis and taken complete advantage of her.
Truth had many forms. Something shifted in his chest, and it was monumental.
She’d turned to someone other than him because he’d removed himself from the equation. As he should have. She’d needed him, and he would not have been in any shape to hold her hand through that kind of devastation. All of his anger about the situation had been directed at the wrong person. It was his fault. His and Anderson’s.
Anderson’s treachery had greater implications than Charlie would have ever guessed. The man needed to be taken down a few pegs. Answer for his crimes. This merry-go-round had gone on long enough.
As he lay there in the dark with Audra while she processed her grief, his own frustrations welled in his chest until he almost choked on it. God, he wanted to just erase everything that had happened since the moment he’d walked away from her two years ago. What an impossible cycle of destruction had occurred since then.
But the damage was done—even more so than he’d ever imagined. Even more impossible than erasing the last two years? Fully embracing the do-over she’d seemed determined to instigate back on the beach at Duchess Island. But he yearned for that too, perhaps even more than a magic eraser.
After an eternity of mutual misery, she quieted to the point where he thought she might not mind if he spoke. “That’s when Anderson happened. After… Isaac.”
“Yeah.” She sniffled. “I wanted you. But you told me to get lost—”
“I know. My fault.” More truth, and it wrenched at his heart, drawing blood as it twisted mercilessly. “Blame on this side too.”
When he’d cut her loose, he’d fully believed it was best for her. Still did, especially given the iron will he was exerting at this moment to keep his symptoms in check. But she’d just opened up a whole world of consequences that he hadn’t intended nor could have possibly foreseen. He owed her an explanation for why he’d forced her to deal with Isaac’s death without him. He owed her a mea culpa and a window into his soul where the pain lived so she’d have some measure of compassion for the necessity of what he’d done.
But if he did that, she might forgive him, and he didn’t deserve that. His sins could never be absolved; neither did he want them to be. Some mistakes warranted a trip through purgatory, and he’d never try to shirk due punishment. Sometimes doing the right thing chaffed, like running a boat against the wake.
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “For… everything.”
It didn’t fix anything, but she didn’t seem to care that it was lame and ineffectual, snuggling back into his arms even deeper when he would have sworn she was already as close as she could be.
“I’m glad you’re here now,” she said with so much grace that he reached for it, desperate for something to soothe the flow of pain.
“I am.”
That wasn’t so hard to say. And it felt every bit like fragile steps toward a new beginning they’d sought but couldn’t figure out how to navigate. He still had no idea how to deal with the triggers and the nightmares and the blackness inside he’d tried to keep her insulated from. But he did know he couldn’t walk away from her now under any circumstances.
“I’m here,” he said, but with conviction, and kissed her temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”
It was a vow he intended to keep. She’d needed him, and he hadn’t been here. But he could be here now. No promises had led to a world of hurt. Maybe instead he could man up and try doing what he did best—the right thing. No matter how much he had to suffer to make it up to her.
“Does that mean what I think it does?” she asked cautiously as if she’d heard something in a foreign language that she didn’t quite understand.
He smiled, shocked that he was able to. And even more shocked that the lightness inside felt a lot like happiness. That was one hell of a foreign language, all right.