Guilty as Sin (54 page)

She stiffened against him and her throat spasmed on a hard swallow. “You did?”

“I did. And I do. Love you, I mean. And I know at the very least you need me right now, even more than you needed me then. And I’m not going to turn my back on you again, no matter how hard you try to push me away.”

Kate lay next to Tommy, her fingers clutching his hand like a lifeline. She didn’t know it was possible to feel such intense grief and intense joy at the same time.

But Tommy’s confession sent a burst of happiness through her, immediately followed by a rush of shame. What right did she have to be happy after everything that had happened?

“Do you love me, Kate?” It tugged at her heart, the way he sounded almost tentative.

“Yes, but—”

“Then don’t let him take this away from us too. He already tore your life apart. Don’t let him take our future.”

Kate moved her hand to rest against his cheek. She soaked in the different sensations, the scratchy feel of stubble against her palm, the softness of his lips as she brushed her thumb against them.

She looked into his eyes, so close she could see the flecks of gold in their dark depths. It was as though the years had fallen away and he was looking at her with all the love and intense devotion he’d once felt in his young heart, no trace of the hardened warrior he’d become.

Every fiber of her being wanted to drink it all in and give it right back to him, but the guilt was still there, a yawning cavern in her soul, threatening to consume her. Telling her she didn’t deserve any of it.

She told Tommy as much.

“What do you think Michael would want?” Tommy shot back, the frustration evident in his voice. “Do you really think he’d want you to spend the rest of your life miserable, doing penance? If the tables were turned, would you want him to do the same?”

“Of course not,” she said, choking on a sob. “But you don’t know what it’s like—”

“You think I don’t know what it’s like to have someone’s death on my conscience? I was there the night Michael died too. I’ve gone back and replayed that night thousands of times, wishing I hadn’t pressured you to sneak out.”

“I was the one who went. I was the one—”

Tommy pressed two fingers gently against her lips. “We both should have made different decisions. But the truth of the matter is that the only guilty party in all of this was John. He almost took you from me today. When I thought you were dead, I felt like my life was over. I never got over losing you the first time.”

He covered her mouth with his, sending a rush of warmth tingling through her body, sweet and pure, cutting through all the ugliness John had left in his wake.

“Don’t let him kill our future. I love you, so much,” he murmured against her lips. “And I know we can get through this together.”

Though she would live with the pain of what happened to Michael for the rest of her life, she knew in her heart Tommy was right. John had already taken so much from her already. She wasn’t going to let him steal her one chance at happiness too.

“I love you too,” she said, feeling the words down to her very core. “I love you and I want to be happy. With you.”

Tommy gave her one of those blinding smiles and kissed her again. The taste of him, the feel of his mouth moving
against hers made her blood run thick and chased the last shreds of darkness away, leaving only bright hope for the future. And love, deep and true. Strong enough to survive tragedy and years of separation. Strong enough to get them through whatever life threw at them.

With Tommy at her side, she could make it through anything.

C
ome on, just a few more bites,” Tommy insisted.

Kate dutifully took one more swallow of the chicken soup Erin had dropped off a little while ago, then firmly pushed the spoon he brandished out of her face. Well, as firmly as she could considering two days after being shot in the chest she was still weak as a kitten.

“You’re not going to get your strength up if you keep eating like a damn bird,” Tommy groused as he put the lid back on the soup carton and set it aside.

“I’ll have a little bit more later,” she promised, hiding her half smile. Of all the insane happenings of the last several days, the fact that Tommy Ibarra was here, glued to her side as he had been for the last two days straight, watching over her, catering to her every need, struck her as the craziest.

Craziest and, besides Tricia’s rescue, the only wonderful thing that had come of all of it. Kate clutched at it, the wonder, the happiness as she tried to keep the horrors of the last few days at bay. Eventually she would have to deal with it, she knew. Face the press. Hell, face a therapist to help her unwind the twisted mess that John had left behind.

“It’s going to be okay,” Tommy said, as though he could read the unpleasant thoughts trying to wheedle their way into her brain. She loved the way he said it, not as a hollow
reassurance, but forcefully, as a statement of truth. A statement she had no choice but to believe.

Even more, she loved the way he followed it up with a sweep of his broad palm across her cheek, followed by a soft press of his lips. Warm, reassuring, telling her with his touch what he’d told her in words so many times the past two days.
I will always be here for you, Kate. I’m never letting you go again.

Kate turned her head to catch his mouth with hers and tried to shift closer. The movement sent a shock of pain through her right side. She tried to stifle her gasp, but Tommy, attuned to every wince and frown, immediately pulled away.

“Dammit, you should have kept the morphine drip for another couple of days.”

She didn’t take offense at the sharpness of his tone, accompanied as it was by the helplessness in his dark eyes. He hated seeing her in pain, a point he’d made abundantly clear. However, Kate was already over the weird drunk and disconnected feeling she experienced from the morphine, and Tommy’s aversion to seeing her hurt wasn’t a good enough reason for her to keep taking it.

“Let me call the nurse—”

Kate stopped him with a firm squeeze of his hand and shook her head. She breathed softly, pushing through it until the stabbing pain receded to a dull ache. “I promise I’ll let them give me something if it gets worse,” she said as she settled back against the pillows he’d tucked behind her.

He shook his head in mock exaggeration, flipped open his laptop and clicked over to a video streaming site. “What will it be? Another movie? Or should we start another season of
Mad Men
?”

This was how they had spent most of Kate’s waking
hours between brief visits from Jackson, Brooke, CJ, and Tommy’s parents.

Not once had they turned on the TV or looked at the news to see what was being said about the case. She could imagine the media storm occurring outside the four walls of this room, and knew that soon enough she and Tommy would be at the very center of it. But not yet.

They’d just finished the opening credits of another episode when there was a sharp rap on the door.

“Come in,” Tommy called as he paused the movie and slid his chair away from the bed to make room for the nurse who was no doubt outside the door.

But instead of the nurse, it was Deputy Roberts, who was taking a shift guarding the door to Kate’s room to make sure no reporters or other unwanted visitors snuck in, who opened the door.

“Kate, Senator Beckett—I mean, your father’s out here to see you.”

A shock went through Kate, making her stomach seize up.

“He didn’t seem happy when I told him I needed to check with you first,” Roberts continued.

That would account for the uneasy look on the deputy’s face. The senator wasn’t used to being asked to wait, and no doubt made sure the deputy knew that.

Tommy was up immediately. “I’ll tell him to hit the bricks,” he said and started for the door, the lines of his back and shoulders tense, ready for confrontation.

“No,” Kate said softly. She’d known in the back of her mind that when the truth about Michael’s death came out, she would have to face her father. Face the cold accusation in his eyes once again. Though the identity of Michael’s killer no doubt shocked her father to his core, it still didn’t erase
the mistakes Kate had made that night. And Kate didn’t hold any hope that it would change her father’s attitude toward her.

“Are you sure?” Tommy asked, his face carved into harsh lines as he returned to her side and took her hand in a firm grip. “You’ve been through too much already and I don’t want you upset.”

“It will be fine,” Kate said with a confidence she didn’t feel. But she’d known this confrontation would come. Now that her father was here, forcing the issue, she just wanted to get it over with.

Tommy nodded an OK at Deputy Roberts. “I swear to God, one word out of line and I will throw his ass out of here,” he murmured under his breath.

As the senator stepped through the door, Tommy positioned himself in front of Kate, a human brick wall.

“Hello, Kate,” her father said. To her shock, his voice held none of the cold, emotionless quality she’d come to expect. Instead it was deep and thick with emotion. And when she met his eyes, there was none of the angry accusation she’d seen so many times. Instead they were dark, stormy with grief and regret.

“Hello…” she trailed off, not sure how to address him.

Her father grimaced uncomfortably and ran his hand through his still thick silver hair. “I realize we should have called first, but I couldn’t, I didn’t—”

Kate squeezed Tommy’s hand, unsure what to make of her father, seemingly unsure of himself when he’d always dominated every situation.

“We weren’t sure you’d talk to us,” a wry female voice cut him off. At that moment Kate realized her father wasn’t alone. Lauren and her mother were behind him, her view of them blocked by Tommy’s broad back.

Her mother, small and birdlike, hovered at her father’s arm, her face thin and pinched as she remembered, her normally flawless complexion blotchy, her eyes puffy and red.

Lauren didn’t hesitate as she hurled herself at the bed, ignoring the way Tommy stiffened as she grabbed for Kate’s free hand.

“God Kate, we’re so glad you’re okay,” Lauren barely got the words out before she burst into tears. “And I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’ve been so distant after what happened, after Michael…”

Kate felt her own eyes fill as she wrapped her fingers around her sister’s.

“We’re all sorry, Kate,” her father said, hovering at the foot of her bed. “Me especially. The things I said to you, blaming you. I was so wrong, about everything… I…”

Kate felt like her entire world was spinning off of its axis as her father uttered words she’d never expected to come out of her mouth.

“I spent so much time blaming you for what happened, and I had no idea I’d brought that monster into our lives. If I hadn’t been so close to Phillip—”

“Don’t,” Kate said quietly. She knew exactly what her father was going through, the way the what ifs and the second guesses could drag you down a rabbit’s warren of guilt. “You couldn’t have known. None of us did.”

Her father reached out a hand, awkwardly, uncertain whether or not to approach her. Kate dropped Lauren’s hand, more from shock than anything else, and reached out to her father. His hand closed around hers, the fingers still strong, though the skin felt papery, more weathered. Long forgotten memories bubbled up at the contact, of her slipping her hand in to his as they crossed a crowded street.

Her mother covered their joined hands with her own, the
familiar scent of her perfume settling over Kate like a soft blanket.

“When we heard the news, about John, what he’d done to you, to Michael—” her father choked on a sob.

“We had to make sure you were really all right,” Lauren said, her voice thick with tears.

“And tell you that we love you, Katie,” her mother said in a voice tight with grief and regret. As Kate met her mother’s gaze, she saw that she’d lost that dazed, cloudy look she’d had the last time Kate had seen her. Bright, alert, as though someone had jolted her awake after years of sleepwalking.

Kate could relate.

“We love you, Kate,” her father and Lauren echoed.

Kate sat in stunned silence, struggling to take it all in.