Page 123 of Beat of Love
But it was the pain in his voice that haunted her.
The guilt.
The utter weariness.
Elsa moved closer, pressing her warm muzzle to Brandy’s arm. “Raff’s hurting, girl,” she murmured, stroking the mare’s neck. “Badly.”
He’d claimed he felt no regret.
But doing those deeds … something had twisted in him.
She heard it in the way his voice turned flat and remote, a man trying to cauterize his soul.
Deep down, Rafferty was gentle.
She knew that.
Only someone with a truly kind heart could reach animals like Elsa and Rosie.
But would he ever believe that? Would he ever see what she saw?
Or would he keep letting guilt and pain drown the good in him?
Would he push her away again and again, clinging to the belief that he didn’t deserve anything good?
Didn’t deserve her?
And if he did … would she let him?
Or would she be brave enough to fight for them?
*
The water pounded his back, scalding hot. Rafferty pressed his forehead to the cool tile and let the spray wash over him. Then, with a muffled grunt, he slammed his fist against the wall.
He hadn’t meant to tell his father everything.
The words had just spilled out, pulled from the hollowed-out place inside him where regret and guilt festered.
How long before the old man started looking at him differently?
With disappointment. Disgust.
And Brandy-Lyn—
He could never tell her. Not the whole truth.
Not without watching the light in her eyes go out.
Not without seeing love shift into revulsion.
Rafferty clenched his jaw, water tracking down his face.
The recent ink on his arm caught his eye.
“Ná déan dearmad choíche,” he whispered.
Never forget.
