“Fucking kidding, right?”
“No, I’m not.” She set aside the coffee cup. “These past months, you kept telling me everything was your bullshit, and I let it go because it seemed like I didn’t have a right to know, but I did. You should have told me. At some point, a line was crossed, and you know it.”
Mac’s eyes narrowed. He knew it.
“But you kept some pretty importantbullshitfrom me,” she accused. “Maybe this ismybullshit. Solves nothing, rewinds nothing, and takes nothing away from what already happened, to tell you everything that happened that night.”
“Payback?” he demanded. “Is that what this is? Didn’t think you had it in you, Day.”
“That’s not my intention.”
“You came here for a reason. Don’t stop now.”
Her eyes had a spark of fire in them. Good; he wanted her pissed off.
“Why’d you call me a monster? Other than the fact I wasactinglike a goddamn monster? Because in all that, what you haven’t gotten to yet is where you panicked. Fred was just sitting in the boat, watching this? It was a small fucking boat; where was Fred?”
She stared into the distance before eventually looking back at him. “Fred was agitated. He was confused. He’d been confused all night. Whining, barking, and trying to get between us.” Her eyes watered, and she raised the palm of her hand to her face, pressing against a cheek to hold back tears, recalling her dog’s actions. “It added to the chaos, his agitation. On the boat, we were screaming over his barking…
“You asked how I could think you were a monster because you wouldn’t let go of Josie. You reminded me I’d said perfect men don’t let go, so you wanted to know why you were a monster when Elijah was so perfect.” Swallowing hard, she added, “Then you mocked me for clinging to Elijah because he was a monster who’d let go.” Dropping her head, she said so quietly he barely heard her over the sound of the water lapping and boat butting against the bumpers, “But then you said…” She took a deep breath. “You said I was worse. I was worse because I let my baby go. I was selfish; didn’t want to be burdened; didn’t want the inconvenience.What mother does that—letting go? That’s what you asked me.” She stopped, choked on the words, covering her mouth as the tears blinded her.
Mac stared in horror. How the fuck did those words come out of his mouth? Maybe he should have, but he’d never considered her a mother. Somewhere in his twisted mind, he had conjured the worst thing he could say, the absolute worst, and used it against her.
Her—his Day—his light struggling through the darkness whenhewas the darkness. This woman, who derived meaning from words, even when they came from a miserable place. “Cassidy.”
She shook her head hard and quick, wiping the tears away, again avoiding eye contact. “No, I know.” She took a couple of calming breaths before continuing, “I called you a monster for saying it. And I meant it. And as horrible as it was, as much as those words hurt, I couldn’t dwell on it; on you. I had to stop the boat. But I wasn’t strong enough to fight you, and I couldn’t get you to stop. I needed you off of me. I panicked. I called for Fred. He didn’t hesitate.”
The eyes she raised to him were mournful—again, what theactual fuck—that she should walk away from that night with any regrets over what she’d had to do to survive him?
“Good.”
“Fred loved you,” she assured him beseechingly, as though he could hold a grudge against the dog.
“Fred did his job,” Mac responded. “Saved us in the process.”
Swallowing again, she raised a shoulder. “I don’t know. I wasn’t fast enough. We hit an outcropping of trees—I thought I remembered going out of the boat. I’m told I didn’t go completely out. I don’t remember anything after the initial impact.” Her face crumbled again. “But my dog is dead. I killed him. I took him, and I got him killed.”
“No,” Mac snapped, then cringed at his tone. But he was confused he had to take this burden from her.
Cassidy looked up at him, stunned.
“You didn’t. He isn’t dead.” He could see she was actively searching her memory for news of another outcome.
She was looking at him like he was speaking a foreign language.
“He’s injured badly. He’s recovering. He lost a leg.”
Her mouth opened in anOas she searched his face for signs of deception, then finding none, burst into tears. Covering her face, she sobbed into her hands, the force racking her body.
Mac’s jaw tensed as he watched her, wanting to go to her and hold her; comfort her. His arms were itching for her, the sound of her tears twisting him up inside. But how did he go to her right now? Why would she want his arms around her when she’d detailed what a horrible experience he’d put her through? He dropped his head and crossed his legs at his ankles, feeling like a complete bastard as he waited for her tears to pass.
After several hard sniffs, she informed him, “They told me he was gone and that he’d been collected. I thought they meant his body had been taken; that he was dead.”
Fuckers.Not the message he’d left. It explained why she never asked after Fred, though. He’d thought she’d just been that mad. He should have forced the issue. Shouldn’t’ve been a pussy, scared of scaring her. She’d needed to know about her dog more.
“Where is he?” she sniffed.
Mac paused a few seconds before he answered, “I have him.”