Page 60 of Secret Stalker

Chapter Nineteen

Bex’s mouth fell open, Max’s angry words repeating themselves in her mind as the sound of his boots rang through the house. Wind suddenly howled outside the bedroom door, followed by a metallic thump. He’d gone outside, in the middle of a lightning storm. Because of her.

Oh, God, what had she done?

She shoved off the bed, hopping down to the floor just as the lights flickered and went out. Letting her memory of the house’s layout guide her, she flung the door open and ran down the hall into the main room. She froze at a loud pinging sound against the glass.

“It’s just the storm.” Max’s deep voice spoke from the dark. “It’s finally raining. The wind is driving it in sheets against the back of the house.”

She turned toward his voice, but the room was too dark to make out anything but silhouettes. He was standing by the fireplace, one of his booted feet resting on the raised hearth, a hand braced against the mantel.

She turned, looking for one of the lamps she’d seen earlier.

“Don’t bother.” He spoke from the gloom again, his voice already drained of anger, sounding flat, emotionless. “The power just went out.”

She started toward him, then let out a curse when her shin banged the coffee table.

“Wait there,” he said.

He bent down, but she couldn’t tell what he was doing. Light flared, like from a long match. Then a small fire began to grow in the fireplace. He must have had it set up with kindling and logs, ready to go, because it quickly caught and grew into a roaring fire. The flames threw a flickering, eerie light across his features and through the room.

He turned his back on her. “Go to sleep, Bex. The house is sturdy. You don’t need to be afraid of the storm.”

The coward inside her, the one who’d never picked up the phone or tried to talk to him for all those years, urged her to do as he said. But coming back to Destiny had changed her irrevocably, had reawakened feelings long ago buried, had made her realize just how her actions had impacted those around her. Running away, going back home without making things right, wasn’t something she could do now. She had to face what she’d done. All of it. And that meant facing Max one more time.

She circled the coffee table and crossed the room to stand directly behind him.

“Max, you didn’t let me finish explaining why I told you no.”

He sighed wearily. “I’ve heard enough.”

“Maybe you have. But there’s one more thing I have to tell you. It might not matter to you. But it matters to me. I realize how much I’ve hurt people by leaving when I did, by running away. And I’m trying to make it right the only way I know how, by telling the truth. There might not be any proof of what really happened that night with Bobby. But when this storm is over and the sun comes up, I’m going to call the chief and tell him to come get me so I can give a full statement. Because it’s not just about me. It’s about Bobby’s father, and his brother. They deserve to know what I know. Someone killed their loved one that night, and they need to know my role in it, if nothing else, so they can expend their energy looking for the right killer.”

He turned his head, hand braced on the mantel, boot still resting on the hearth. But at least he was listening.

“I already explained why I turned down your proposal,” she continued. “But I didn’t explain why I left. Bobby was dead. So there wasn’t any worry by then that you’d get in trouble fighting or going after him.”

He frowned. “I wondered at that, after I left the bedroom.”

The fact that he was at least talking with her now gave her hope. She plodded forward. “I left because I thought I’d killed Bobby. I’ve thought that all this time, until you proved to me today that I didn’t kill him. I left because I knew that if I stayed in town, you would do everything you could to help me. And I wouldn’t be strong enough to resist you for very long. I talked it through with Mama and we both agreed, the only way to protect you was for me to leave.”

He shook his head in disgust. “There you go talking about protecting me again. Don’t you realize that’s my job? To protect you?” He looked back toward the fireplace. “Or it would have been. If you’d stayed.”

“Exactly.”

He frowned and looked at her again.

“That’s my point,” she said. “You would have felt it was your duty to protect me, even after I’d turned you down. Because that’s how you are, a wonderful, good, loyal, kind man who would protect the woman he loved even if she was a murderer. Even if it cost him his career.”

He swore again. “We’re right back where we started. Bex, you’re way more important to me than any job. Don’t you get that?”

“Actually, yeah, I do. Now. You’ve ignored your boss’s calls all day and risked everything to be here with me, to keep me from confessing back in town. You’re doing exactly what I tried to prevent by running away in the first place.”

He shook his head.

She stepped closer, placing her hand on his chest, feeling his muscles bunch beneath her fingertips. “But I’m not running this time. I’m not going anywhere. I love you, Max. And we’re both adults now. I don’t know if you can ever forgive me for not trusting you and giving you the chance to make your own decisions about your future all those years ago. But I’m hoping you can at least try.”

His gaze dropped to her hand. “It’s been a long time, Bex. A lot has happened since then. I don’t know that I want to go down that same road, risk you crushing me like you did. It took me years to get over you. But I’m happy now. I like my life, enjoy my family, this house, the life I’ve built. I’m not sure you fit in anymore.”

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