Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“I did betray him,” I admitted. “I betrayed him because it was the right thing to do for an innocent man who was killed in the most horrific way.”
Barbara’s lips trembled with her fury.
But I continued, “But you betrayed Darren, too, long before I ever did. We wouldn’t have even been there that night if you had just protected him.”
“Ahhhh!” she screamed, her face contorted and mottled as she pulled a knife out of the inner pocket of her jacket and flew at me.
I only had a second to register the weapon and lean back, swiping my hand up to bat away the knife. Pain flared down the center of my palm where it cut me open, but I didn’t have time to think about it because she slashed at me again. I stumbled back, dodging her enraged stabs and swipes as I tried to find my feet.
“Ye killed ma laddie!” she screamed over and over, her words cracking and hoarse. So overcome with her fury, she lunged with too much force and lost her footing, enough for me to sidestep her and grab her wrist. It was against everything I was to hurt a woman, but Barbara Benny was gone. All that was in her was crippling self-loathing she’d misdirected at me.
I snapped her wrist back and she dropped the knife with a howl of agony.
Then suddenly security was in the room and pulling her away from me.
“Are you okay, sir?” a man in a black suit asked, his face blank with stoic professionalism as his colleagues cuffed Barbara Benny.
“I need a medic.” I gestured to the blood gushing out of my hand. “But otherwise, I’m fine.” And despite what had occurred, I realized I was.
“Ah should’ve come after ye when ye were a boy! When they took ye away!” Barbara cried. “Ah should’ve ended ye then!”
Everything Barbara had done to me was so she didn’t have to face her own guilt. All these years, I’d believed that what happened to Gil and what happened to Darren were my fault. That I could have done better to stop it. But I was just a boy. And I’d tried.
Barbara had sat back and let a monster destroy her son.
It wasn’t my fault.
Anguish and relief thickened my throat as I finally, finally let the guilt go.
Thirty-Two
ARIA
It was a bad day to visit the set.
North had … well, warned wasn’t the right word, but he’d told me last night that they were filming the love scene between him and his costar Eden. The French actor had rubbed me the wrong way from the moment we met because she flirted with North right in my face. North’s ambivalence soothed my irritation, but I think I’d underestimated just how much watching them kiss was going to bother me.
In fact, I lasted two seconds watching him make out with the other woman before I quietly slipped away and let myself into North’s trailer. Just the sight of him clasping her face, the way he clasped mine when he kissed me, was enough to split my chest open.
It was June. The film had moved location to Rome, and several scenes—that didn’t require a car chase through the city—were being shot inside Cinecittà Studios. Despite June not being Italy’s hottest month, it was a scorcher outside, and I was grateful for the AC unit in North’s trailer.
But not the quiet. In the quiet, I had time to think about his lips on hers. Her hands running down his chest, clutching at his ass.
I’d dated actors before.
I understood the business.
Actors had romantic scenes with other actors. Most of the time, it meant nothing. Though it had meant something with Preston and his costar. However, I knew North would never do that to me. So my possessiveness shocked me. I didn’t know if it was a product of being cheated on or if it was just because it was North.
Since Barbara Benny’s attack, we’d grown closer. North’s palm needed stitches, but otherwise, he was good. Although I’d had to return to Ardnoch two days after it, we’d never been emotionally closer. Barbara was facing prison time. She’d admitted to attacking us with the Defender and to sending the threatening letters. Neither of us knew if she really thought she could kill North by coming to his hotel room. It was obvious, however, that he’d become her obsession and it probably always would have led to a rage-filled confrontation.
We’d decided to put it behind us. The threat that had hung over North was over, and I’d noted a difference in him. He admitted to me that seeing Barbara, remembering her culpability in what had shaped her son, had relieved him of a lot of guilt. And I could see that lightness in him.
We found a rhythm again, traversing the challenges of a long-distance relationship, and I think, doing it well.