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Capturing Peace

Page 55

   


I didn’t turn to face him as he spoke. I just shut my eyes and listened to each soft, haunted word he was sharing with me.
“We were each chained to the ceiling and floor, and roughly an hour after I woke, four men came into the room with us. One by one they tortured my men for hours in ways I refuse to plague your world with, before finally giving them the relief of shooting them. They didn’t want information, and they never said anything to us. They tortured them just for the sake of torturing them. Saco’s team came in at the exact same moment they killed the last man on my team.”
A silent sob worked its way through my body, and my shoulders jerked from the force of it. I shook my head and fought the craving to reach behind me to touch him, to be there for him while he relived this.
“I’d promised their wives I would bring them home safe, and I didn’t keep that promise. I watched them die, and it was because I fell into a trap I know I should have seen.”
“No,” I choked out.
“I see that day whenever I fall asleep. I see it whenever a smell or sound triggers it,” he continued, his voice still slow and dark. “I didn’t think I deserved happiness, not after that, and not until I met you.”
The tips of his fingers brushed up the arm that hung at my side, and my breath caught from the intimacy of the simple gesture.
“You changed me so completely. I’ve tried to hide—­and hide from—­my demons. It wasn’t until you that I stopped hiding. I fell in love with you and your son, Reagan. I fell hard, and fast, and everything about the three of us together made sense. But I let a few words form doubt, and I know I shattered your trust—­I know I shattered the little trust you already had in men, and you will never know how sorry I am for ever walking away from the two of you.”
Slowly wrapping an arm around my waist, he closed the little distance between us and rested his bent head against the side of mine so his nose brushed against the curve of my neck. My body slowly trembled from forcing myself to not grip his hand in mine, but I knew I was slowly losing the battle. He had no idea what his touch and words were doing to me, or maybe he did.
“I am losing my mind without you. I would choose having flashbacks of that mission . . . every night for the rest of my life in a heartbeat if it meant I could have you two for the rest of our forever. A night of not remembering is heaven, but that”—­he pointed to the picture of the three of us—­“is my peace. You and Parker are my peace. You’re my life. My family. I can’t live without you, please don’t ask me to keep doing it.”
I stood there trembling and staring at the picture in front of me for long minutes before I realized I couldn’t see it through the tears anymore. Dropping my head, I shook it back and forth as I fought with myself. I was terrified. He’d hurt us, he could do it again. But I was right there with him, I wasn’t sure we could live without him. I hadn’t felt this whole since the last time I’d set foot in this building, and everything in me was screaming to stop running from him.
With a tortured breath out, his arm slowly left my waist. “I’m sorry, Reagan,” he whispered before I heard his footsteps retreat from me.
The war with myself reached deafening levels as he got farther away from me, and it wasn’t until I heard the door shut to his studio, did I finally turn from the spot I’d been standing in. Before I could even run after him, I froze in place again and my eyes widened as I saw the backs of the canvases. Down the entire left row was a word on every canvas: IT’S BECAUSE OF YOU THAT I STOPPED HIDING FROM MY DEMONS THANK YOU.
And it was then I understood all of it. Starting with the pictures of Coen hiding his eyes or face, changing into the ones of us together where there was no longer anything for him to hide behind, to him baring his soul to tell me more than I’d ever expected him to.
I took off running for the front door, and flung it open. Keegan and Erica were standing against Keegan’s truck looking to my left; and when I followed their gazes, I found Coen walking away and running his hands over his face.
I tried calling out his name, but nothing came out as I ran after him. He must have heard my approach, because he turned just in time for me to launch myself at him. He staggered back a step before steadying himself as I wrapped my legs around his waist and pressed my lips firmly to his.
When I finally pulled back, I found his dark eyes filled with tears, and if he hadn’t been holding me, the sight would have brought me to my knees. “We can’t live without you. I’m sorry I tried to hurt you, I’m so sorry for everything I—­”
He cut me off with a hard kiss. “Don’t apologize. God, please don’t.”
“I love you, Coen; Parker loves you, we need you.”
His dark eyes held mine as he promised, “I swear to you I’m not going anywhere again.”
I nodded and spoke through the tightness in my throat. “I know.”
He started walking back toward the studio with me still in his arms as he whispered, “I love you. I’m going to marry you, and adopt Parker. I’m going to give you that forever, Reagan.”
As we reached the door, Erica spoke up. “Don’t worry about tonight. Parker’s spending the night with your parents, just have fun.”
I sent her a grateful look, and just barely caught my brother’s horrified expression as Coen walked us inside.
“Don’t have too much fun!”
Coen just shut and locked the door behind us, before capturing my mouth again and walking us slowly through his studio. Letting me slide down his body, he helped me take off his shirt and pants without ever once stopping his advance. By the time we made it to the large bed, my bra was being dropped to the floor and he was pulling off my underwear as he gently pushed me down onto the bed.