Page 95 of Faded Gray Lines

* * *

Seeing her car parked outside the townhouse calmed the beast inside me. I’d needed to find her first because if I got to Brody, I was afraid I’d do something I couldn’t take back. There couldn’t be any more secrets between us when I confronted the man I’d convinced Val to break tradition for and bring into our family.

Racing up the stairs, I barely managed to get the key in and unlock the door before shoving it open. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her, but even I didn’t understand the overwhelming need in me to control her. It wasn’t about making her feel weak—far from it. I never wanted Leighton vulnerable again. My need for control stemmed from the ignorance I felt, and that word sickened me.

I’d been ignorant to the horror she’d suffered at the hands of her stepfather. I’d been ignorant to the loneliness she endured raising our child by herself, and I’d been ignorant to the conspiracy going on behind both our backs involving people on every side of the triangle in this fucked up equation. We’d wasted so much time blaming each other for the shape we were in, we ignored the fragile shape we’d become .

I found her sitting on the couch, still dressed in her Caliente uniform, mascara streaked down her cheeks as if she’d been crying. She had her knees drawn up toward her chest and her arms wrapped around them.

This wasn’t my Leighton.

This wasn’t my Star.

This was a lost little lamb.

Dropping to my knees before her, I took her face gently in my hands, wiping the dampness from under her eye with my thumb. The movement seemed to knock her out of the hypnotic trance, and her brows knotted together.

“Your lip is bleeding.”

“I went to see Emilio,” I admitted.

I waited for her to ask me why, but she held my gaze, her walls crumbling piece by piece.

“Me too.” Pulling away, she released her knees, collapsing against the back of the couch.

That was when I noticed it.

A purple bruise forming at the base of her throat—just the size of a thumbprint.

Emilio’s heated words came rushing back as that purple print made the black haze cloud my vision again. I touched it with a gentle hand. “Did he do this to you?”

Although she flinched, she didn’t pull away while nodding.

Fuck the code. He’s a dead man.

“I’m not the enemy,mi amor,” I promised her, doing everything I could to keep my voice even. “But I know who is.” Just as I promised myself, there had to be a clean slate between us before any more blood spilled. Taking her small hands in mine, I held them tightly, preparing both of us. “Remember those messages you said you sent me when you left?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t get them, but someone else did.”

All the blood drained from Leighton’s face. “Who?”

“Emilio.”

Immediately, she tried to pull away, but I anticipated her fear, and held on, refusing her.

“How do you know this?” she whispered, her voice shaking.

“Don’t worry about that right now. Just know I finally heard them.” As the last word left my lips, I looked up at her. The wide-eyed panic in her beautiful brown eyes faded, the corners turning down in understanding.

“You didn’t know,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“No. But now that I do, I want to hear it from you.”

She stuttered, starting and stopping at least three times before tilting her head back and letting out a gasping cry. My heart bled for her. My arms ached to hold her, but I didn’t move. This moment belonged to her, and she needed to be left alone to exorcize the demons on her own.

“I left almost four years ago, Matty, but I didn’t leave alone,” she finally said, her hands trembling even harder. “When I said I came back to look for you, I wasn’t lying. I wanted to find you, even though you never answered my messages. I thought you deserved to know that...”