She stood up, shaking with fear and raw anger. "That was more than just sex! I gave you everything I had. I love you!"
She looked into his beloved face, searching for a glimpse of the tender, gentle, mischievous man who had so much love to give. All she saw staring back at her was a stranger.
"But I don't love you," he stated calmly.
"You said you did the other night," she whispered, hating the brokenness to her voice. Her insides were bleeding, raw and open wounds that tore her to pieces. "Don't do this to me. To us. You'll regret it, Dalton, we both will."
He stepped back, jerking his gaze from hers. "There's nothing to regret. You played your game, we enjoyed each other for a while, and now it's time to move on. I'm not punishing you, Raven. I'm just . . . leaving."
Then he did exactly what he promised.
He left.
Raven sank to the floor, leaning her face against her raised knees, and cried for the second greatest loss of her life.
chapter twenty-five
It was done.
Dalton knew he wouldn't be able to continue a relationship with a woman who lied. A woman whose father had a direct responsibility for not only killing his mother, but manipulating her to leave. Both were unforgivable. He'd needed to hurt Raven so irrevocably, there'd be no coming back.
He drove back home, feeling curiously empty. Her scent drifted from his skin, the spicy musk of sandalwood. Her taste lingered on his tongue. His chest tingled from the scratch of her nails.
He drank the rest of the whiskey with the desperate intention of forgetting. Sickness formed inside him, but he wasn't sure if it was the result of his actions or of realizing he'd never hold her again. Finally he passed out, fully dressed on his bed, hand still clutching the bottle.
But he dreamed.
The familiar nightmare took hold, but this time it was different.
It began the same. His mother chased him playfully down the road, her yellow dress flapping in the breeze. Suddenly she stopped, gazing at the strange car parked before her. The man got out and held out his hand. She took it. Climbed into the car. And drove off.
Dalton chased her down the road, calling her name, and the car burst into flames. Screaming and crying, her familiar face pressed against the window amid the fire. Dalton waited for her to mouth the words in her final moments, caught halfway to wakefulness, forced to watch the last, devastating scene.
Suddenly, his mother faded away.
Raven was in the car.
Her beautiful, inky hair surrounded her face in messy waves. Those huge dark eyes begged him from behind the barrier of the glass, her palms pressed to the window in one last plea.
I'm sorry . . .
The car exploded.
Dalton woke up, gut twisted with nausea. He ran to the bathroom, vomited violently, then crawled back into bed.
He didn't go back to sleep.
The nightmare came to Raven that night.
This time, when the car exploded and she tried to run, the woman's face was no longer there with her father, trapping him in a fiery death.
This time, Dalton blocked her from rescuing her father, a cold, distant look on his face while he watched him burn. Her screams ripped from her throat, echoing in the air, but he never turned or acknowledged her presence.
Raven woke up drenched in sweat, her cheeks wet.
She didn't go back to sleep.
chapter twenty-six
Dalton turned off the band saw and examined the piece of wood. The grain had a deep color that would go well with Morgan's choice of cabinetry. He made some adjustments, sinking into the familiar rhythm of work, the scent of sawdust thick in the air, soothing his senses.
His workshop seemed the only place he felt at peace lately. Between the repeated nightmares wrecking his sleep and the constant memories of Raven during the day, he was poised on the edge of some strange breakdown. Two weeks had passed. He'd kept away from the bar, distanced himself from his family, and tried to bear down and deal with the fallout.
Problem was, he didn't seem able to move on. He was stuck, still unable to pry her from his mind and his heart. A wrenching emptiness sat in his gut, messing with his appetite. He got through the day, but nothing held a glimmer of happiness or satisfaction any longer. It was as if a piece of himself was now missing-a piece he'd never known existed before Raven.
He peeled off his glasses and gloves. Swigging some water, he wiped his forehead and went to change the song on his iPhone when a text came in. His breath caught, then held as he waited to see who it was from.
Busy tonight? Thinking of grabbing dinner-wanna join me?
His shoulders slumped. Charlie. After he'd finished the Sullivans' deck, they'd spoken a few times, but they hadn't gotten any further since he'd broken up with Raven. He stared at the phone for a while. Maybe it was time to force the issue. Get past these feelings that had no place in his life and move on with another woman. He'd never had trouble before. He'd been out of the game too long, and Charlie intrigued him. They had a more friendly vibe, but it wouldn't take much to cross over.