"I know." She touched his hair, smoothing it back from his forehead, but the wind immediately whisked it from her fingers.
"How could I have—"
"It doesn't matter, Cage."
"It does," he insisted through gritted teeth. "It matters."
He raised his head again and reached out to gently lay his hand on the breast he had assaulted only moments before.
There was nothing sexual in his touch. He could have been touching the shoulder of an injured child. "Did I hurt you?"
His hand was warm, healing, and Jenny brought her hand up and covered his where it lay. "No."
"I did."
"Not as much as they hurt you."
They stared deeply into each other's eyes. An unlabelled emotion arced between them like an electric current. Jenny dropped her hand. He lowered his just as quickly.
Jenny sat down beside him on the hood of the car. The waxed surface was hot even through their clothes, but neither of them noticed.
"Sarah didn't mean what she said, Cage."
He snorted a laugh. "Oh, yes, she did."
"She's distraught. That was grief talking, not her."
"No, Jenny." He shook his head sadly. "I know how they feel about me. They wish I'd never been born. I'm a living reminder that somehow they failed, a perpetual embarrassment to them and a constant insult to what they believe. Even if it is never spoken aloud, I know what they are thinking. It's probably what everyone is thinking. Cage Hendren deserves to die. His brother didn't."
"That's not true!"
He got up and walked to the brink of the mesa, sliding his hands into his pockets. His white shirt showed up starkly against the blackness. Jenny followed him.
"When did it start?"
"When Hal was born. Maybe before that. I can't remember. I just know it's always been like that. Hal was the fair-haired child, literally. I should have had black hair. Then I really would have been the black sheep."
"Don't say that about yourself."
"Well, it's true, isn't it?" he asked brusquely, turning to face her belligerently. "Look what I almost did to you. I came close to raping the woman I—" He broke off in mid-sentence and Jenny wondered what he had been about to say. He made a taut, thin line of his lips to seal the unsaid words inside and turned away again.
"I know why you did that to me, why you were drinking and driving fast. You were trying to make your point that they're right about you. But they're not, Cage." She moved closer to him. "You're not some bad seed that turned up as a genetic accident in an otherwise flawless family. I don't know which came first, your naughtiness, which your parents didn't handle well, or their scorn, which made you act naughty."
She caught his sleeve and forced him around to face her. "Isn't it apparent? You've been reacting to them all your life. You work at being bad because that's what you know people expect of you. You've made a career of being the black sheep of the minister's family. Don't you see, Cage? Even as a child you did outlandish things to get their attention because they doted on Hal. That was wrong of them. Their failure, not yours.
"They had two sons and each of you had a different personality. But Hal's suited them best, so he became the model child. You tried to win their approval and wh
en that failed, you turned around and did just the opposite."
His grin was patronizing. "You've got it all figured out, I see."
"Yes, I do. Otherwise I would have been terrified by what happened tonight. Even a few months ago I would have been. But tonight I knew you wouldn't hurt me. I know you better now. I've watched you lately. I saw you cry over your brother's body. You're not nearly as 'bad' as you want people to think you are. You couldn't compete with Hal's goodness, so you made it your goal to be a champion in another arena."
She had his attention. He was listening. And as much as he wanted to dispute her, what she said made sense. He stared at his feet as the toe of his shoe stirred up clouds of dust that swirled in the wind.
"I just worry about how far you'll carry it."
His head came up. "Carry what? What do you mean?"