Page 42 of Beneath the Flames
“So are you,” Brie reminded him.
Faelan let out a tortured sigh as a wave of grief seemed to wash over him. Brie suddenly realized that her words, which had been meant as a compliment, had only caused him pain.
“Fuck, I miss Kylie!” he groaned. “I wonder sometimes if her death was payment for Trevor. Ever since I killed that kid, my life has been a series of catastrophes.”
Brie’s jaw dropped. “You can’t think like that! What happened to Kylie was a horrible tragedy, not some kind of ‘payment’ for your past.”
Faelan shook his head. “To be honest, I still worry that our daughter might be better off with her grandparents. I could not bear it if I fucked up her life too.”
“Faelan, you have to stop thinking like that. If this letter is making you think this way, I’ll fucking burn it myself!”
His eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk like that before.”
Brie growled. “When I see my friend torturing himself over an accident that happened a lifetime ago, all because of a stupid letter…it makes me fucking angry.”
Faelan’s voice became eerily calm. “I have felt this way for a long time, blossom. I’ve had too many heartbreaks in my life not to believe that I’m the cause.”
Her anger instantly dissipated the moment he used his pet name for her. It took her straight back to the beginning when she first met Faelan. He had been a tortured soul even back then.
Brie never forgot the day he confessed to her outside the tiny tobacco shop that she had been his reason for living again. But the truth was, it wasn’t until he foundKylie that he really began to live.
She realized now that when Kylie died during childbirth, Faelan had reverted back to that hurting young man, strangled with overwhelming guilt after the car accident. It was only through the concentrated efforts of both Marquis Gray and Rytsar that Faelan had been able to regain his former self-worth and was able to find the strength to become the kind of father his daughter deserved.
She stared at the letter with growing resentment. It seemed as if that damn letter was about to tear Faelan’s life to sheds again and take his daughter’s future with it.
Brie remembered Mary mentioned that Marquis Gray had insisted on Celestia not destroying the letter because he believed Faelan had a right to see its contents.
While Brie agreed with Marquis in theory, right now it felt like a terrible mistake.
Faelan waved the envelope in his hand. “I came to the beach thinking if I could connect with Kylie while watching the sun set, I would be able to handle reading this.” He snorted in disgust. “It turns out, I’m too much of a coward.”
“Trust your instincts,” Brie begged him. “Throw the damn thing out now!”
He looked at her ruefully. “That’s the thing, blossom. My instincts are to open it.”
Brie closed her eyes, knowing there was no convincing him to do otherwise. Understanding what he needed from her, Brie wrapped one arm around him. “Open the letter, then. I’m not going anywhere.”
With a sad smile, he nodded.
His hands shaking, Faelan ripped the top of the envelope open and pulled out a two-page letter. The stationary was embellished with colorful floral accents, making Faelan snort. “Seems ironic that she chose to use pretty stationary to pen a hate letter.”
Undaunted, he unfolded the paper, taking a deep breath before he started to read it.
Brie looked away, not wanting to inadvertently peek at the private conversation meant for Faelan—although she was plagued with painful curiosity.
Faelan was silent as he read the letter, but Brie could feel the tension in his muscles growing with each passing second.
She heard the rustle of him moving to the next page as he continued to read. Brie felt his whole body start to shake. She turned to look at him, hoping to read his expression to discern how he was feeling.
He was staring at the letter, his face a deep shade of red and the veins in his neck pulsing in rage.
“What the hell did she say in that letter?” Brie cried angrily.
When Faelan met her gaze, Brie was paralyzed by the intensity of his anger. Thrusting the letter at her, he barked, “Read it yourself.”
Faelan stood up and started pacing. Seeing how upset he was, Brie was almost too scared to read it. The woman’s penmanship was beautiful, her cursive as pretty as the flowers printed on the stationary—which was disconcerting considering the effect her words were currently having on Faelan.
Dear Todd Wallace,
