Page 78 of Sworn to Protect

“Not gonna lie. I like an ambitious woman.” He laughs as I slap his chest. Then he clears his throat. “I do have something I need to tell you, though. It’s something I should’ve said from the beginning.”

“I already know.”

His body stiffens. “Youknow?”

“Yeah, and you don’t have to explain if you’re not ready. I understand.”

He exhales, his expression unreadable. “I don’t think you do.”

“Stop,” I press a hand to his chest. “Whatever it is, I get it. But I wonder … does it have anything to do with your nightmares?”

He lets out a ragged breath. “Yeah. It does.”

“There’s no need to apologize. Do you want to talk about it?”

Nate’s jaw clenches. He remains quiet for so long that I don’t think he will answer. Then he turns to face me with so much pain reflecting in his eyes that my heart squeezes. “You’ll never know how sorry I am.”

I have to put a stop to his pain. I can’t stand it. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s not a big deal. I’ve known for a while.”

The pain in his eyes turns to confusion as he studies me. “You have?”

“Yeah. When my brother showed up last week, he told me you lied about being from San Francisco. He said you’re actually from San Diego.”

His lips part momentarily, and then he shakes his head as if I’ve stunned him. But he had to have seen this coming.

“Was he right?” I press.

“Uh, yeah. I grew up in San Diego.”

“Why did you tell me you were from San Francisco?”

“Honestly, I have no clue other than I hate talking about mypast. I studied at Cessna University in Los Angeles, but my National Guard unit was based in San Francisco. Maybe that’s where I drew the connection.”

“You don’t have to tell me the story if it bothers you that much.”

“After witnessing one of my nightmares, I think I should.” He rubs his palms along his thighs. “I already told you how I lost my mom, but I held back the details for a reason.” He closes his eyes, taking a few calming breaths. When they reopen, he isn’t looking at me. He stares straight ahead, his expressionless mask firmly in place.

Hello, Mr. Broody. I see you’re back.

“What I’m about to tell you, I haven’t told anyone except for the police and the shrink children services had provided.”

A pang in my chest squeezes tight. My mouth dries. I’m not sure I want to hear this story, after all.

He lets out a humorless laugh and gives his head a little shake. “I was up in my bedroom, working on my history project. We had to recreate a World War II battle scene, and I considered constructing one from Legos. Anyway, I heard what sounded like glass shattering. Mom had always been a bit clumsy.” A small smile crosses his lips from the remembrance, but it falls as quickly as it came. “I didn’t check it out, thinking she had broken another glass or dish. It wasn’t until I heard her scream that I knew something was awry.”

I hold still, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him.

“I sprang from the floor and ran down the stairs, but by the time I got there, they had already stabbed her multiple times.” His jaw ticks. His voice is deep and even, emotionless. Almost as if he placed a shield around his emotions and melted the only key.

“Blood was everywhere. All over the kitchen floor. Splattered on the walls. The refrigerator. I stood at the doorway, motionless.” His voice cracks. “I was useless.”

“You were just a kid.”

“Yeah, but I should’ve done something. Anything but stand there.”

“You would’ve been killed.”

“I’ll never erase that scene from my mind. Or the words that followed.”

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