Chapter 104

She shouldn’t be able to still stand on her feet. Still breathe. Shouldn’t be able to exist under so much pain. Part of her needed to pound on his chest, demand he fight along with her for not just who they were but who they could be.

But the other half? That half had perhaps seen this coming, and she protected herself. Wrapped herself in the remnants of pride she had left that she refused to sacrifice at his feet. He was kinda right anyway, but the fact that he'd thrown her past in her face this way…

Yes, she loved him, but she also loved herself and more importantly, she valued herself. She was done running after men… Done running after the wrong men. But boy had she been hoping that Nick would be it for her.

“I can’t make you believe me, and I can’t force you to accept a love I’d freely give you without any strings attached. But if there’s one thing that you, yourself, taught me, it’s that love is a gift. Loyalty is earned. My love for you is yours because it’s mine to give, not for you to determine who it belongs to. And despite what you think, you’ve more than earned my loyalty, which means I’d never lie to you, never betray you. So for you to believe differently is on you, not me.”

She inhaled a shuddering breath, unable to believe after all this time, this was how their friendship would end. On a busy street. Because he couldn’t get past his own issues to see her. To love her.

“In spite of us introducing sex into our relationship, I thought we were close enough that you could come to me with anything. But maybe we were wrong to go there with each other because it was clearly a mistake.”

She shook her head, smiling, having no doubt it reflected the soul-deep sadness that hollowed her out. Because try as she might, she couldn’t conjure up anger toward him. Not when she understood him and how he felt. Not when she loved him so much.

“It all comes down to fear, Nick. You’re afraid to trust that I could possibly love you. That I could prefer you over Stoner or anyone else. You can’t accept that you’re so special, so beautiful, that loving you is as easy as breathing, and honestly I don't blame you because it took me so long to see. So you’re pushing me away out of fear.” She spread her hands wide, palms up. “I can’t make you believe that I love you, that I want only you, because that would require you believing in yourself. That would mean you’d have to extend a trust to me that’s beyond you. As a friend? Yes. But with your heart? With the possibility of perhaps hurting you? No. And that saddens me, Nick. Because you deserve more than that. But when it comes down to it, your fear and your insecurities broke us. And that’s something you’ll have to live with.”

Not giving him a chance to reply—a chance to utter one more word that might score another hit that could devastate her further—she turned and walked away.

Walked away from him, but toward herself.

_________

Nolan was in the kitchen making a pot of coffee when Candace walked in.

Besides the flat-screen TV dominating one wall of the living area, the kitchen, with its gleaming stainless steel appliances, was the one room of the house that looked as if it hadn’t been transported right out of the Victorian age.

She looked as keyed up as she had on the plane. As though the strain from keeping her composure had worn her to the point of exhaustion. He should have fought harder to convince her to stay in Quinley. Had he allowed her to come because he was giving in to her wishes or merely giving in to his own desire to have her near?

Either way, she was here now. And he’d keep her by his side as long as he could. He poured a mug of coffee and held it out to her, but she shook her head, opting instead to prop her hips against the butcher-block counter.

“You think he masterminded this whole thing, don’t you?” There was a hint of accusation in her voice.

There were a dozen reasons why he believed exactly that. But the most convincing argument he could make was to say, “Occam’s razor.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t believe it. I don’t believe he’s capable of this.”

“It’s the simplest explanation,” he said as gently as he could.

He’d known this wouldn’t be easy, but watching her expression, the worry lining her eyes and the tension framing her mouth, made it all harder than he’d thought it would be. Damn Andrew. He was the one who’d broken her heart. He should be the one here facing her now.

Yet even as he thought it, Nolan knew he would never give up his place by her side. As hard as it was to tell her the truth, he wouldn’t dream of making her face it alone.

“Think about it,” he said slowly. “How well do you know him? He's been absent for years. You’ve been saying all along you couldn’t believe he’d be this stupid. That he was smarter than this.” Nolan nudged up her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Maybe you were right. Maybe he was smarter. Smart enough to mastermind this whole thing. I asked around, found a contact working in the Blackstone operation,” he continued. “Yes, they have a hand in gambling, but they claim they’ve never loaned any money to your brother. He doesn’t owe them fifty thousand dollars. He doesn’t owe ten dollars.”

“Why would he lie?”

This was the part that had taken Nolan the longest to figure out. The part that just hadn’t made sense until he’d read the file J.D. had brought him in the car that morning.

Instead of answering her outright, Nolan pulled out his Phone and pulled up a picture. “I want you to look at this picture. See if you recognize this man.”

The guy in the picture was about her brother’s age, maybe a year or two younger. He was dressed in the sort of expensively scruffy clothes that seemed endlessly popular with men in their twenties. His hair was shaggy, but he probably paid a lot to get it to look that way.