She can’t be gone.
The door opens behind me.
“There you are, son.”
At the sound of my father’s voice, the cold becomes heat, it becomes anger. I catch Candace’s arms again, to set her away from me. She grabs my scrub top. “Rick, no. Whatever you’re about to do, don’t. He clearly doesn’t know yet. Let me—”
“Son,” he says.
That’s all it takes to push me over the edge. She’s dead and the last thing she knew was his abuse. I set Candace firmly away from me, turn around and snap. I do what I wanted to do a week ago when he yelled at her, and four days ago again, when he caused a patient to die on my table. I do what I should have already done, too fucking long ago. I launch myself at him, shove him against the wall and start beating him.
I blink back to the present and remember being pulled off of him. He’d been hurt. I’d been glad. Hurt badly enough to miss my mom’s funeral. He didn’t deserve to be there anyway. I’d endured the military review over my actions and when they’d wanted to put me back in an operating room, I didn’t feel ready. Candace’s father had suggested I deploy under a special program he operated. I’d said yes that day because I wanted to kill my father and I feared I might do it. I’d felt myself changing, turning into a killer. And that’s what happened. I’d become a killer but one with the control I didn’t have that day I’d attacked my father. He doesn’t have the control over me he once did.
I open the car door and get out. Let the reunion begin and be the fuck over with, not fucking soon enough.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Candace
“Well, this was a dead-end,” I say, finishing up the review of the documents I’d photographed.
“All is not lost yet,” Smith says. “Asher is working on the cross-references in between monitoring your piece of shit fiancé.” He eyes my finger. “Don’t you have a ring?”
“Rick took it.”
He laughs. “Figures.” He glances at his watch. “It’s about that time. I’m heading out.”
“If I want to leave, can I?”
“To go where?”
“I don’t know. The store. A coffee shop. I just don’t want to be here right now.”
“Our guy is watching the house. He’ll give you backup wherever you go.”
“But I’m not in danger?”
“We’re just being cautious. We Walkers guard family like they’re gold. And you’re family, even if you don’t know it yet. I won’t come back when I’m done, but I’ll text you if I find anything. I figure you and Savage need some time alone.”
“Thanks, Smith.”
“New friend. That’s me. Remember that.”
I offer a weak smile and he disappears into the garage. I have no idea what car he’s taking or how he’s traveling, and I don’t care. He’s resourceful. I stand up and walk into the bedroom, entering the closet where I push to my toes and grab a red leather box off the top shelf. Carrying it to the bed, I sit down on the mattress and open the lid. Inside are the letters Rick wrote to me while he was deployed but only one really matters. The last one. I haven’t dared look at it in years but with shaky hands, I remove the handwritten letter from the envelope, unfold it, and read:
Candace:
I love you. I will always love you. And that’s why I can’t bring this hell back to you. Ever. The idea of never touching you or kissing you again kills me. Destroys me. But I know now that death is a part of me like it is my father. I can’t do to you what he did to my mother. I won’t forget you. I hope you do me.
Love forever,
Rick
My throat is thick with emotion. My heart hurts. I hurt. Again. I hurt again. My mind travels back to the day I received it. Like I did every day, I anxiously checked the mailbox, relieved and excited to find his words waiting on me. And like I did with every letter, I made coffee, sat down on the porch he built us, and opened it. The day this letter came, I’d been sick, running a fever, alone at home. I’d read those words and dropped the scalding hot tea I was drinking all over me. And then I’d cried like I’m about to now.
“Damn it,” I murmur. “Why am I doing this to myself?” But I know. I know why. Because I think he’s already gone again and I’m not sure I’m going to survive it this time.
Still, I torture myself further. I stick the letter back in the envelope and trade the envelope for the black velvet ring box also inside the box. With my breath lodged in my throat, I open it, staring down at the sapphire and diamond engagement ring that Rick had given me six months after we met. It’s simple but beautiful. It’s perfect. We were perfect, or so I thought. I shut the lid and stick the ring back in the box, before sealing the lid. It’s impossible to do though without traveling back to the night he deployed. He’d stood on my doorstep, his hands on my face. “I’ll be back. And when I am, we’re getting married. I love you, baby. More than I thought it was possible to love.” And then he’d kissed me before walking away for eight long years.