"Who hurt you?" Noah repeated as he handed her his shirt. He sat at the foot of the bed, his eyes fixed on her. His body had taken on an eerie calm, as if he were bracing to absorb a blow or poised to unleash one.
"It wasn't like that," Sascha rushed to explain, fumbling with buttons. "It's not what you're thinking."
He relaxed but his expression remained stark. "Then what just happened?" The mix of judgment and concern in his voice was the reason why she'd never told a soul, not even Ana, every detail of what had happened the last time she visited Alex's apartment.
How could she risk anyone defining their relationship by a drunken mistake that otherwise never would've happened—one she knew Alex regretted? As long as she kept that night a secret, one moment wouldn't stain the good years they'd had. But her protective silence wasn't an option anymore. She couldn't allow Noah to cast Alex as a monster and her the helpless little victim.
"You've heard about the accident Robin Montgomery went to jail for, right?"
He hesitated then said, "What does that have to do with—?"
"I was in the car she hit. The boy that died..." With the words came flashes of Ana begging her not to look at Jaime. "He was my ex-boyfriend's brother."
Noah sat upright.
She explained how the wrongful death suit had revived Alex's guilt and exposed the hidden resentment between him and his parents. Then she told him about the day that would've marked Jaime's twenty-first birthday.
"It was one thing to suspect that his father blamed him all along but knowing for sure was different—it broke him."
Her voice cracked under the strain of remembering Alex's grief but she didn't try to temper it. She needed for Noah to understand yet she knew he never truly could.
"I hadn't seen him like that since the night of the accident." The two police officers who tried to pry Alex from cradling Jaime gave up after their first half-hearted attempts. One turned away in tears while Alex kept the almost decapitated head in place. He'd gone hoarse screaming his brother's name as if it could bring him back.
"People talk about closure but there's never
closure
," she said in a derisive tone. Finally, after being as discrete as she could about her last time with Alex, she ended with, "He'd never been rough with me, not once—the opposite actually. And it never would've happened if he weren't drinking."
Noah couldn't sit still any longer. "The point is it never should've happened at all," he said while he pulled on his trousers.
The vanilla descriptions intended to neutralize hostile acts, the adamant defense and back story weren't new. His mother had done the same thing whenever Hugh had flown into his tirades. She'd painted him as a troubled hero, often misunderstood and overburdened by his work as a vice detective.
The ghost of sadness that haunted Sascha's face wouldn't affect him. He wouldn't imagine how it would feel to lose his brother on his watch, knowing he'd failed to do what older brothers were supposed to do: protect. He wouldn't let empathy reel him into the grey zone where what had been plainly wrong transformed into something unfortunate, a 'mistake' as she called it. That line of thinking let the Hugh Riavos of this world off the hook. It's what they preyed upon.
"He didn't mean for it to happen," she insisted.
Ah, the famous words. They hardened his resolve, reminding him that she'd dusted off the same old script and replaced the cop with the accident victim. It was all black and white from now on.
"What he meant doesn't matter."
Her chin came up. "It does to me!" Her misplaced loyalty infuriated him.
"Right. And I bet he was all choked up and apologetic but that didn't stop you from freaking out just now, did it?"
It struck him how small she was—no match for a man loaded on alcoholic aggression. How scared had she been that night?
"It was just...it's been a long time and you're the first..." Sascha buttoned her mouth. Too much information. And worse, Noah made her revisit things she didn't want to. Like the fact that while on an intellectual level she believed Alex would never willfully hurt her, her deeper instincts doubted him. As much as he'd expressed his regret afterwards, there'd been a moment when he'd
needed
for her to feel his pain. And if she hadn't been safe with the man she'd trusted then why surrender herself to a stranger?
But the pull was there. And she often led with her heart.
"I better go," she said as she got up and searched the floor for her clothes.
"You don't have to." He reached for her hand. "Stay."
"Look, I don't want your pity."
"That's the last thing I feel right now."
Sascha studied him. No, she didn't doubt that he'd relish the chance to punish Alex. After devoting the better part of last year to someone else's needs, a man now stood ready to defend her and she found she liked it. A lot.
Any chance of dismissing him as the hot neighbor flew out the window. And to top it off, the way he was looking at her... The pull was there, stronger now. And her gypsy heart wanted more...more of everything with him.
"You mean you'd still want to?"
He shook his head. "It's not a good idea—not tonight."
"I understand." No she didn't but she had to focus on making a graceful exit.
Noah caught her hand and tugged her closer. She looked like a kid at Christmas doing her best to pretend it was alright she hadn't gotten her biggest wish—him. And he'd never been more flattered.
"Believe me, I want to," he admitted while he stroked her back. The hope he'd heard in her voice made him long to tumble back into bed and show her just how much, again and again. "But you've had enough drama for one night."
She drew back, her pretty brown eyes full of disbelief. "You still want me to stay even though we're not going to do anything?"
"I didn't say that."
Sascha quirked a brow.
