looked back one last time. “But you waited too long.”
He took a step forward, but Hank moved, his large frame blocking the way. “I think you should go.”
Morgan grabbed the railing and, with every ounce of strength she had left, took the stairs in a methodical, controlled manner. She reached her bedroom and closed the door. Drew the blinds. Tried like hell to un-see the images from the report. To un-feel the overwhelming emotions inside her. But the images were there. Burned into her mind so deeply, it left her numb. The pain in her chest cut deep, and with a gasp, Morgan fell onto her bed.
She grabbed her pillow and stared at the wall until hours later she fell into an exhausted sleep. And all the while, a storm gathered out front.
31
The media shit storm hit, and it hit hard. By the time Cooper returned to his place on the ocean, news crews were parked along the road waiting. The flashes of lights as he drove past nearly blinded him, and the slow-burning anger inside festered until it broke open like the waves that beat against the Atlantic coast.
He walked into his silent home, and everywhere he looked reminded him of Morgan. Smiling as she rested her chin on the island and watched him prepare something for dinner. Laughing at some stupid joke he told, or whimpering in pleasure at the touch of his hand.
He couldn’t take it and climbed the stairs to the attic, where he lost it. He roared his anger, swinging at the bag he’d installed only days earlier. He let fly punch after punch, until his hands were bloody and his body covered in sweat.
Still it did no good. The image of Morgan, her beautiful pale eyes filled with pain—pain that he’d caused—was something he’d never forget. Just the thought had him swinging his fist again, and he swore savagely when he felt something give. Didn’t care. Hell, he deserved pain.
“You about done?”
Sides heaving, Cooper spied Maverick standing on the top step, his face filled with concern. He scowled and pushed off from the bag. “Not even close.”
Maverick strode across the loft and stood a few paces away. “It’s getting bad out there.”
Cooper walked past his brother toward the window and glanced down at the circus-like gathering.
“It’s going to get crazy.”
“Yep.” Maverick joined him.
“I can’t stay. It will only make things worse.”
“That’s probably true too, but…”
He looked at Maverick. He knew where his brother was going. “She doesn’t want to have anything to do with me, and I don’t blame her one damn bit. I blew it.”
Maverick looked grim. “You didn’t tell her about your past or the Lee Holloway thing, and she was blindsided.” It wasn’t a question, and Cooper didn’t bother to answer. “Do you love her?”
Cooper stared out into the chaos. His chest was so tight, he could barely breathe. “Yeah. I do,” he bit out.
“You’re never going to win her back by pounding the shit out of that damn bag. And if you don’t do something about it, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” Maverick was right. Of course he was. But Cooper felt helpless. He knew the questions circling Morgan’s mind, and she had every right to distrust him. Hell, she had every right to hate his guts. What the hell could he say to convince her otherwise?
He shook his head. He had nothing. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“You’re a goddamn writer, Coop. Figure this out. The time for running is over. You’ve been doing it ever since Holly. You’ve been using her as an excuse to hide. No more.” Maverick gave him a quick, hard hug. “Do you want me to stay? We’re supposed to fly out tomorrow.”
Right. The damn premiere.
“No. Go be with Charlie.”
Maverick gave him one last hug and then left him alone. Cooper hit the lights and sat in the dark for hours. He stared at the flickering shadows, face grim and so damn spent, he felt light-headed. He hung his head in his hands, his despair and anger making him shake so hard, his head began to pound.
He had one shot at this, and he needed to get it right.
He stared at the floor for a few moments more and then got his ass up. He headed down into his darkened house and slipped out the back way to the shop. Once in his office, he booted up the computer and filled the paper tray in the printer. As a heavy