Page 53 of Unexpected Heroine

Chapter 11

I can't handle the truth

LETTIE

Isuppose I don’t need to know which video it is.

Perhaps it’s both of them. Then again, who’s to say they only recorded two?

Not that it matters.

James’s face says it all.

Heartbreak weaves into his features, painting a vivid picture of what he just watched.

More than any other moment in my life, I wish I could rewind time to change things I’ve done. Prevent klutzy accidents. Stop and think instead of making impulsive decisions.

If I could, I’d go back to five minutes ago, throw that fucking jump drive into the disposal, and obliterate it into thousands of pieces so James never had a chance to watch it.

No better place for that trash to end up.

Moving with a singular purpose, my feet propel me across the room toward him. I pay no mind to the twinge of pain lancing my midsection. All I care about is comforting him. And it starts by getting rid of that cursed thing. Better late than never.

He stands there, looking like he was frozen in carbonite.

The poor man is so traumatized by what he saw I don’t think he even sees me approach.

As soon as it’s within reach, I swipe the laptop from his grip. The corded headphones come flying out of his ears and whip around me.

He snaps out of his trance, his eyes searching for mine. “Sugar bear, you don’t wanna see that.”

“You’re damn right I don’t,” I snap, raising my chin assertively.

My pointed response leaves him dumbstruck.

Before he can react, I slam the laptop shut and stomp into the kitchen. In a rush, I set it on the counter, yank out the jump drive, throw the damn thing into the disposal, and turn on the faucet. With a shaky hand, I flip the power switch.

The sound of the drive grinding to bits fills the room, giving me a blooming feeling of satisfaction.

Moving at a snail’s pace, James finally enters the kitchen. The horror of what he saw still lingers around him in a metaphorical storm cloud.

Aching for him, my heart splinters in a million pieces. Much like the tiny scraps of plastic and metal swirling around the under-the-sink hog.

By the time it’s chewed up beyond recognition, James is at my side, bracing himself with a death grip on the counter. He turns off the disposal and peers down the drain. “Lettie, what have you done? That was a digital trail.”

“I did what I should have done as soon as I saw the damn thing. I never should’ve let you watch that.”

He forks his fingers through his hair, veins bulging in his temples. After taking three rigid steps, he spins on his heel and starts pacing. Eyes fastened to the floor, he mumbles unintelligibly.

I experience a similar physical response to the tension pulsating through the room. Heat rushes through my veins. I hear and feel my pulse rapidly pounding behind my ears.

My mind replays how I handled the situation. Same as always, I just reacted.

Only this time, I don’t regret my knee-jerk response. I only regret not doing it sooner.

Why did I let him watch that? Once I saw it was something that could hold a digital recording, a part of me knew what it would be. Viktor told me he’d give it to James since he likes to watch.

I was a fool.

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