Page 100 of Beat of Love
“Tell me what you remember,” Trent prodded.
Rafferty was quiet for a long time. Long enough that the sleet outside began ticking louder against the windowpane. When he spoke, his voice came low, uncertain. “I was supposed to nap but played with my army men on the windowsill. The babies were asleep in the bassinet under a tree. And that’s when I saw the coyote” — he shot Trent a look full of raw guilt, the kind that had been eating at him for decades — “or what Ithoughtwas a coyote pick up one of the babies.” He swallowed hard. “I didn’t even scream right away. I just watched … frozen.” His voice cracked. “I let the coyotetakeher.”
Eyes on the floor, he ground out further memories. “I’ve never forgotten the sound of Sinead’s crying. Or Ma’s frantic screams. Or how the ranch exploded into sirens and search parties. And they questioned me over and over. Like I’d lied, made it all up. They kept looking at me funny.” His head shot up. “And theystilllook at me funny.”
“We’ll come back to that last statement. But first — what would you say to a little boy who lived through that? Who saw acoyotetake his baby sister and didn’t know how to stop it?”
He thought for a beat. Then another. And with great reluctance, he admitted, “I’d tell him it wasn’t his fault.”
“Because it wasn’t.”
A long silence followed before Trent leaned in slightly. “Neither is Charlie’s death your fault.”
Rafferty flinched, her name bruising his soul. His mouth worked before any words came out. “He warned me he’d get even. I should’ve been on the lookout for him. But I’dforgottenabout him,” he spat.
“Oliveira?”
He nodded.
“You’ve never mentioned his beef with you.”
“He was part of the Fantasma cartel sent to monitor the Taisechs distribution network. And an abusive bastard. His pregnant wife asked me for help escaping the compound.”
“So, you saved the life of a woman and her unborn child.”
“That’s beside the point. I didn’t keep” — he stabbed a finger into his chest — “mywife safe.”
“By reading someone’s mind? Predicting a planned abduction from a man long forgotten?” After a small pause Trent continued, “Couldyou have known, Rafferty?”
He took a moment to verbally admit the truth. “No.”
“Then how is it your fault?”
“It just is!” he yelled. “I should’ve known he’d come after me. He’d vowed revenge, always suspected I’d helped his wife. His behavior got him kicked out the Taisechs, and he disappeared. I figured he’d gone back to Brazil and put him out of my mind. Biggest mistake of my life.”
He fisted his hands, welcoming the pain as his skin stretched, cracked.
Bled.
“I forgot. About. Him,” he gritted out between clenched teeth.
Trent tilted his head. “What was the woman’s name? The wife. The one you saved.”
Rafferty frowned. “Selena.”
“Do you regret helping Selena?”
“No!” he barked. Then quieter, he repeated, “No. Saving Selena and her baby from a lifetime of abuse had been the right thing to do.”
Rafferty met Trent’s level, unblinking gaze.
The kind that didn’t push, just waited.
He sat back, breathing hard like he’d been running.
“Sinead. Charlie.” Trent said their names quietly, with care. “You weren’t to blame for either.”
Rafferty didn’t reply.
