“He was always your brother,” she said, keeping her voice quiet. “He’s just Cam. You have to accept that, Chase. He thinks he has to protect all of us.”
He breathed out roughly. “I’d have killed her if I’d known.”
Yes, he would have. And they would have both paid for it in ways she knew Cam couldn’t accept.
“He would have known that,” she whispered.
Chase wiped his hand tiredly over the rasp of an overnight beard and breathed out. The sound was rough and heavy with grief.
“It was my job to protect him.”
Jaci shook her head. “You would have done the same thing, Chase. You would have protected him and your pride with the same ferocity. Don’t take away from the sacrifices he made. He survived. He made a man’s choices when he was no more than a boy, and I won’t take that from him. I won’t let you take it away from him, either.”
“She almost killed him.” His voice was hoarse with the tears she knew he wouldn’t shed here. “She did kill a part of him.”
“Chase, he survived,” she repeated. “He’s strong and he’s honorable. He’s your brother and my lover, and he would die for either of us. Do you know how very lucky we are to have him? Just the way he is?”
She knew. She had known men who had charmed lives. Men who had never suffered, never known pain, and they were nowhere near as decent and honorable as her Cam.
Chase’s shoulders hunched as he propped his elbow on his knee, his chin in his hand, and stared at the whisky bottle again.
“I want a drink so bad I can taste it.” He sighed. “I have a rule. Never before evening. I have it for a reason.”
She moved a little closer to him, feeling her heart break for him. She knew he had that rule for a reason. Because for Cam and Chase both, whisky had been a crutch at far too young an age.
“I killed Moriah,” he said then. “Sweet Moriah.” A bitter laugh left his lips. “God, she had us all fooled, didn’t she?”
And she had broken Chase’s heart with the decision he’d had to make.
“There was nothing else you could have done. She would have killed Cam, and he would have let her, Chase. He wouldn’t have pulled that trigger, because that gun wasn’t aimed at you or me. And you cared for her. He knew that.”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “I cared for her.”
And she couldn’t help herself. She moved closer to him, put her head on his shoulder, and wrapped her arms around him. After a brief start of surprise, his arms came around her and his hard body shuddered as he buried his head in her neck.
He sat there with her for long moments, rocking her, perhaps because he couldn’t rock himself.
Finally, his hold loosened and he set her away from him, his fingers touching her cheek gently before he breathed in heavily.
“Cam slept in the bed,” he said then, his voice ragged.
She let a smile tug at her lips. “Yeah, Cam slept in the bed.”
He nodded, the movement slow and heavy, before rising to his feet. “I’m going to go shower. I have to wrap this up, meet with Ian and the Brockheims.” He shook his head. “Son of a bitch, I hope this day ends soon.”
She watched as he moved from the couch to the stairs. He didn’t look back, but he didn’t have to. She could see the sadness, the sorrow inside him, and she ached because of it.
Cam and Chase. They were so strong, so decent, and parts of them were scarred forever because of the actions of others.
Shaking her head, she turned and moved back to the bedroom, back to her lover. He was sleeping in that big bed without her, and she needed to be with him.
As she turned into the room, she saw that he wasn’t asleep at all.
His large body was sprawled out in the center of the bed, the sheet covering nothing but his hips as his powerful arms were folded beneath his head, and he stared up at the ceiling with a frown.
Jaci pulled the T-shirt off and crawled onto the bed, folding her legs to the side as she leaned against his chest, their eyes meeting.
“The bed’s comfortable.” His voice was soft, reflective.
“It’s more comfortable with you in it,” she admitted, watching him close, seeing the sadness in his eyes.
“Chase is hurting.” He sighed.
“Chase is going to be okay.”
He nodded at that, then turned his head to her, one arm moving from beneath his head to touch her cheek with his hand.
“You didn’t get the roses and the candlelight,” he said. His voice was regretful, but his eyes were filling with love.
That love swelled inside her. Her Cam. Her warrior. She had him right here where she needed him, and she wasn’t letting him go.
“I got better.” She smiled. “I got my man.”
His fingers threaded into her hair, clenched and tugged until her lips touched his and he smiled. A sexy, wicked smile that tugged at her heart and at her womb.
“You always had the man,” he growled, before twisting and pushing her to her back, rising over her, surrounding her with warmth, his gaze sinking into hers, filling her with his love. “Sweet Jaci, don’t you know, you always had that man.”
