Read Online Out of Exile by Carla Cassidy - Free Book Online Page A

He did it out of rage. He was angry at her for dying and leaving him with four brats to raise.” His words were short and sharp as he fought the building of anger inside him.
    â€œYou don’t really believe that?” Her voice held surprise.
    â€œI not only believe it, I know it’s true.” He walked over to the window of the tiny cottage and peered out, his mind suddenly filled with memories of that horrible day. “I still remember it as if it were yesterday.”
    He was vaguely aware of the warmth of her hand on his back and knew she had moved to stand just behind him. He could smell her fragrance wafting in the air. “Tell me,” she said softly.
    Suddenly he wanted to tell. He felt if he didn’t tell he might explode. “It was one of the worst days of my life,” he began. He drew a deep breath, going back in time…back to one of the darkest days of his life. “I can remember Johnna in the crib in the master bedroom. She was so tiny and she was crying so hard and her face was so red I was afraid she was going to die.”
    He grabbed hold of the window frame, as if to stabilize himself in the here and now so as not to be lost in the pain of the past. “My father was raging, tearing mom’s clothes out of the closet, shoving things into boxes and cursing her. God, how he was cursing her.”
    â€œWhat were you doing while all this was going on?” Her voice held a soft appeal that somehow momentarily eased the pain of the memory.
    He drew another deep breath. “Luke and Mark and I were sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed. That’s where father had told us to sit, and we always did as we were told.”
    Lilly said nothing, but her hand reached down and grabbed his, squeezing tightly as if by touch alone she could vanquish his memory.
    Matthew closed his eyes. “He got rid of everything that day. Her clothes, her shoes, even her hairbrush. Everything. It was as if he wanted her never to have existed, never to exist at all for us, in memory or thought.”
    The band around his chest tightened, bringing with it the rich boldness of the anger that was so much a part of him…the part of himself that frightened him.
    He felt that anger building and knew he should tell Lilly to leave him alone…to get away from him. He wanted to tell her that his anger was dangerous…that he was dangerous.
    She released his hand and moved to stand between him and the window, forcing him to look at her face, gaze into the soft blue depths of her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Matthew, that you had to live through that.”
    She placed a hand on the side of his face. In the sweet blue waters of her eyes the raging fires of his anger were doused, and he was left with only a deep regret that he’d shared this piece of himself with her,a piece he’d never shared with another person on earth.
    â€œNo, I’m sorry,” he replied. “I certainly didn’t mean to get into all this.” He stepped away from her, wanting her touch too much, needing her too much.
    â€œTrust me, Matthew, I know how difficult it is to lose parents when you’re young.” For just a moment there was a haunted look in her eyes, then she shrugged and smiled. “But we survive, don’t we?”
    â€œSurvive?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I suppose that’s what I did.”
    She looked at him with a directness he found uncomfortable. “And I know the wounds that can be left behind when you lose a parent very young,” she said. “But the best thing to do is to talk about it, lance those wounds and let the poison inside go.”
    â€œDon’t counsel me, Lilly,” he warned softly. “Save that for your students at school. Trust me, some scabs are better left alone.”
    Before she could reply Luke appeared at the door of the cottage. “Matthew, we’ve got a problem in the guest