Read Online Deliberate Deceptions: Hauberk Protection, Book 3 by Leah Braemel - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Leah Braemel
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one right now, wasn’t he? “I’m not about to go crawling back on my hands and knees. She was damned clear she didn’t want anything to do with me. She thought…”
Troy waited a long moment before prompting, “What did she think?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does, though doesn’t it? Otherwise you wouldn’t have mentioned it.”
Unwilling to slog through that emotional swampland, Chad shrugged one shoulder. “She put up with a lot of shit when we were married. Not to mention how the press dragged her through the mud right along with me. Everyone at the bureau thought she’d known what I’d done and had helped cover it up. They made it impossible for her to work there anymore so she ended up having to quit. Even in our personal life—friends she’d had since high school dumped her because of what the press was saying about us.”
He’d already lost her by then. She’d pulled away from him after Emily’s death. He’d not realized why until that last big fight. By then it had been too late to do anything.
“I’d say they weren’t good friends if they walked away when she needed them.”
It took Chad a moment to realize what Troy was talking about. “It doesn’t matter. Lauren was right. It was my fault the marriage didn’t work.”
Chad walked to the window and stared out, assessing the guards patrolling the grounds. What were the guards he couldn’t see doing? Were they alert to their surroundings? Or were they goofing off, texting their girlfriends or playing some game they’d downloaded on their cell phone?
“Do you really believe that? That it was your fault?”
“I’m the one who fucked up. I’m the reason she ended up with her picture splashed over the fucking tabloids.” How they’d managed to get that video of the two of them in their bedroom he still hadn’t discovered.
“Bugger that,” Troy snarled. “Stop feeling so goddamned sorry for yourself, man. From what I’ve heard, there was nothing you could have done to have saved your daughter’s life. People die and most times there’s nothing you can do about it but suck it up and move on.”
Chad whirled to face him. “You’re preaching to the choir about death. I know all about it. My father was killed in the line of duty—shot by a goddamned drug addict during a routine traffic stop. My mother was murdered eight years later.” He clenched his fists “Less than a year after Emily died, my sister got shot. She may not be dead but she’s in a wheelchair because I couldn’t protect her. So do not talk to me about how people die .”
“Take your head out of your goddamned arse for once and stop blaming yourself. You were, what, eleven when your father was killed? There is no way you can blame yourself for that. You were living in Boston when that sick bastard lured your mother into showing him that home she had up for sale. There was nothing you could have done to have helped. There was nothing anyone could have done. As for your daughter, her death wasn’t your fault either. It is what it is. Stop blaming yourself.”
It is what it is. How he hated that phrase. Nothing was as it should be. The anger, the ire, drained from Chad as if Troy had pulled a plug, leaving him with an emptiness that was even worse. “I keep thinking I should have seen something, some sign.”
Troy squeezed his shoulder. “Lauren feels the same way. Not about you being responsible, but that she should have seen something too. You two need to talk before you leave, about that if nothing else.”
“How would you know?”
“I just do.”
They’d been stuck on a plane together for hours with nothing to do. If Troy had recognized her, maybe they’d talked. He closed the cover on his suitcase and zipped it shut. Stay. I don’t want to be alone tonight.
What about tomorrow night? Or last night? Or the night before? She’d been the one to run away last time, now he was walking away from her. Self-preservation, instinct, he
Troy waited a long moment before prompting, “What did she think?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does, though doesn’t it? Otherwise you wouldn’t have mentioned it.”
Unwilling to slog through that emotional swampland, Chad shrugged one shoulder. “She put up with a lot of shit when we were married. Not to mention how the press dragged her through the mud right along with me. Everyone at the bureau thought she’d known what I’d done and had helped cover it up. They made it impossible for her to work there anymore so she ended up having to quit. Even in our personal life—friends she’d had since high school dumped her because of what the press was saying about us.”
He’d already lost her by then. She’d pulled away from him after Emily’s death. He’d not realized why until that last big fight. By then it had been too late to do anything.
“I’d say they weren’t good friends if they walked away when she needed them.”
It took Chad a moment to realize what Troy was talking about. “It doesn’t matter. Lauren was right. It was my fault the marriage didn’t work.”
Chad walked to the window and stared out, assessing the guards patrolling the grounds. What were the guards he couldn’t see doing? Were they alert to their surroundings? Or were they goofing off, texting their girlfriends or playing some game they’d downloaded on their cell phone?
“Do you really believe that? That it was your fault?”
“I’m the one who fucked up. I’m the reason she ended up with her picture splashed over the fucking tabloids.” How they’d managed to get that video of the two of them in their bedroom he still hadn’t discovered.
“Bugger that,” Troy snarled. “Stop feeling so goddamned sorry for yourself, man. From what I’ve heard, there was nothing you could have done to have saved your daughter’s life. People die and most times there’s nothing you can do about it but suck it up and move on.”
Chad whirled to face him. “You’re preaching to the choir about death. I know all about it. My father was killed in the line of duty—shot by a goddamned drug addict during a routine traffic stop. My mother was murdered eight years later.” He clenched his fists “Less than a year after Emily died, my sister got shot. She may not be dead but she’s in a wheelchair because I couldn’t protect her. So do not talk to me about how people die .”
“Take your head out of your goddamned arse for once and stop blaming yourself. You were, what, eleven when your father was killed? There is no way you can blame yourself for that. You were living in Boston when that sick bastard lured your mother into showing him that home she had up for sale. There was nothing you could have done to have helped. There was nothing anyone could have done. As for your daughter, her death wasn’t your fault either. It is what it is. Stop blaming yourself.”
It is what it is. How he hated that phrase. Nothing was as it should be. The anger, the ire, drained from Chad as if Troy had pulled a plug, leaving him with an emptiness that was even worse. “I keep thinking I should have seen something, some sign.”
Troy squeezed his shoulder. “Lauren feels the same way. Not about you being responsible, but that she should have seen something too. You two need to talk before you leave, about that if nothing else.”
“How would you know?”
“I just do.”
They’d been stuck on a plane together for hours with nothing to do. If Troy had recognized her, maybe they’d talked. He closed the cover on his suitcase and zipped it shut. Stay. I don’t want to be alone tonight.
What about tomorrow night? Or last night? Or the night before? She’d been the one to run away last time, now he was walking away from her. Self-preservation, instinct, he
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