Page 29 of The Locksmith's Promise

My breathing grew shallow as my body remembered the fear and anxiety of those early days.

“I even thought about going to your father and demanding he get in touch with you, but I couldn’t face him.” My mouth twisted. “And I couldn’t stand the thought of asking Jenny.”

He winced, the bitter stench of regret rolling off him in waves. “She wouldn’t have known. Why were you afraid to face my father?” His eyes widened, a wild look about them as they skittered back and forth then narrowed on my face. “Did he hurt you?”

I shook my head. “I was more humiliated,” I bit out, wrapping my hand around my aching throat.

Talking about it snapped the memory into sharp focus.

The sun shining through his bedroom window like a beacon highlighting long black hair spilling across his pillow. Jenny’s slender leg slung over his, her hand splayed across his naked chest.

Bile stung the back of my tongue.

I needed to spit it out then never think about it again.

“When I went to your house looking for you, your father sent me back to your bedroom. He laughed when I ran back out crying.”

I shuddered as the vision assaulted me.

His eyes widened as he drew back in horror. “You saw—I never knew how you knew what happened. Jenny swore—"

I nodded, my lips pressed in a tight line.

I could hold it together for one more minute. I could. Then l would be finished with this topic forever.

His eyes searched mine as he put the clues together.

I witnessed the moment he realized the extent of his father’s betrayal. Saw the jolt of pain that jerked him backward, the utter contempt with which he held himself curling his lip as he turned his face away from me.

Gentling my voice, I gave him the rest. “Later, my dad insisted I keep myself and Corwin as far away from your father as possible.” I raised my hands to the sides. “Nobody in town knew he was yours until I came home.”

“How is that even possible?” He shook his head.

I ticked the reasons off on my fingers. “No social media, no visits home, and there was no one here I wanted to keep in touch with after what happened between you andher.”

Face blank, eyes stark with pain, he pushed his chair back, tapped his fingers on the tabletop, and stared into space.

I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t watch him relive the suffering of the past like I so often did. Something I suspected we were destined to do until we found a way to make it right.

If there was one.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. “I’m going to take off now.”

“Bax,” I whispered.

He shook his head, his gaze lighting on mine briefly before dancing away. “I deserved it, Maggie. Hopefully, you’ll see I’ve changed.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he turned away. “I’m not the same man. I just,” he stood and pushed the kitchen chair back, his gaze downcast. “I just need to digest this.”

With my heart in my throat, I watched him walk away. Everything in me wanted to hold him, but the ounce of self-preservation I clung to tethered me to my chair.

At the door, he paused, his finger on the spine of Corwin’s baby album. “Can I still take this?”

“Of course,” I whispered, my throat tight.

Raising tortured eyes to meet mine, he called my name, “Maggie.”

“Yes?” I swallowed.

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