stopped, I told him where I was going. I asked him to take me to you. He said no.”
“Why?”
“He said he was afraid of what you’d do if you saw me like that. He told me he was sorry, but he couldn’t let you do something stupid and go to prison for the rest of your life. That’s why he helped me. Why he kept me hidden and got me out of town in secret.”
“I don’t believe that,” he said, but there was a quaver in his voice. He turned to face me. “He didn’t take your secret to his grave because of me. He walked by your missing-persons posters every goddamn day, and he knew you were alive. He was hearing from you with those damn postcards. He didn’t keep his mouth shut for me. He helped a teenage girl run away and he didn’t want to get in trouble for it.”
“He kept my secret for so long for many reasons, Gibs. Yeah, maybe one of them was to keep out of trouble. And he understood that my father was dangerous. After your mom died… That had to have kept him quiet, too.”
He shook his head and glanced away. “That’s what Jenny said. He told her it wasn’t an accident, but she didn’t know whether to believe him.”
“See, he was protecting his family. And I’m telling you, right here and now, the reason he helped me in the first place was you. That was why he put me in his truck and hid me in that shack for the night. And why he convinced your mama to come out with bandages and blankets. Why he drove me all the way to New York in secret while the whole town was looking for me. A little piece of it was to help a girl in trouble. But really, he did all that for you. He did it to protect his son.”
Gibson’s expression changed, his anger crumbling to pieces. His stormy eyes revealed the depth of his pain. A boyish innocence and desire for love long since crushed.
“He hated me.” There was no more rage in his voice. Only hurt. “He blamed me for his life not being what he wanted. He told me I was nothing.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. His painful honesty was hard to hear. It made me ache for him and dredged up shadows of my own childhood trauma. “It’s awful that he treated you that way. But I don’t think he hated you. I think he hated himself, and he wrongly took it out on you. I wish he hadn’t, Gibs. I wish he’d have been a good father to you. But I think there’s a piece of his truth in what he did for me. Deep down, he loved you.”
Gibson took three quick steps and grabbed me, hauling me roughly against him. His legs buckled and we both collapsed to our knees. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders while he buried his face against my neck. His breathing was ragged, and he didn’t say a word, so I just held him. Closed my eyes and gently rubbed his upper back.
His muscular arms tightened, his hands fisting the back of my shirt. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I felt his pain with him. Let it roll through me like a summer rain. I rested my face against his head, wishing he’d had better. Wishing we’d both had better.
“Why are you still here?” he asked, his voice muffled.
I sniffed. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m no good, Callie. I don’t deserve you.”
“Why, because you lost your temper and snapped at me?” I asked. “Gibs, I know the difference between someone who’s lashing out and someone who truly wants to hurt me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to let you get away with it. You keep yelling at me like that and I will get the fuck out.”
He pulled back enough to look me in the eyes. “I’m shit at apologies. It ain’t how Bodines do things. But… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
I touched his face, feeling his rough stubble beneath my hand. “Apology accepted.”
He didn’t break eye contact, the raw vulnerability in his eyes making tears well up in mine all over again. “I love you.”
A tear broke free, leaving another hot trail down my cheek. “I love you, too.”
And I knew, in that moment, that somehow we were going to be okay.