Unchain My Heart(81)

“Ah, nothing like a good coffee in the morning,” she said as she took a sip. “Thank you.”

Eva was easy to please—most of the time. I smiled and nodded. Waking to her in my bed every morning and seeing her lovely face was something I could get used to.

We talked. At first it was awkward and I started off hesitantly, telling her what happened with Jade that day. How I believed that Ryder wasn’t the man for her. And that a baby would ruin her prospects of finding the right man or advancing her career. Sometimes Eva just nodded, and other times she asked questions, probing deeper and deeper into my mind.

“Harrison, tell me what happened that made you so angry and bitter,” she coaxed in a sympathetic voice. I told her about Amy. About the blood. I had to reach deep into the abyss of my soul, unwrapping and dusting off some memories that I’d tried to forget but were always lurking there, like the unseen monsters under the bed just waiting to nip one’s ankles.

She covered her mouth with her hand to hide her horror. “That explains your reaction to Miu-miu’s bite. And although that was funny at the time, seeing a big man like you wanting to pass out because of a little blood, I understand now. It all makes sense.”

I'd moved down the bed and lay with my head on Eva’s lap while she gently stroked my hair or massaged my brow. I hadn’t talked about that day with anyone who wasn’t involved in the incident, and just talking about blood had made me feel sick.

The lump in my throat was difficult to swallow. I considered what a huge amount of baggage I’d carried and how it weighed me down.

Throughout everything Eva listened patiently, sometimes wiping tears with the back of her hand, other times her eyes on fire, and she looked as if she’d gladly throttle me. But she let me talk and talk until I’d spilled it all.

A huge weight lifted off my shoulders. It was cleansing to spill my guts. The more I talked, the more I realized how bearing all the hatred in my heart and my soul had broken me. Could I let it go and start over? I wanted to, but a part of me held on to it stubbornly. The pain was so ingrained that it had become a defining quality of who I was.

Finally, I ran out of words. I fell silent, my mind buzzing with all the repressed emotions that had surfaced again. I’d wished I could change, but it would be sacrilege if I let the pain go, so I’d held on for all I was worth.

As much as I’d originally dreaded having this talk, relief flooded me that I’d gotten the words out.

Eva was quiet, deep in thought. Does she despise me? I wouldn’t blame her if she did. Yet I couldn’t help feeling satisfaction that on some level I'd vindicated the loss of Amy and our child. To myself I sounded like a monster, my heart and soul deeply damaged. Eva no doubt felt the same.

“Harrison. So much rage. The need for revenge has consumed you. Has it brought you the peace you are seeking . . . by hurting someone else?”

I blinked a few times. What was she saying? Revenge had become my reason for living. For a decade it sustained me. It was all I had to keep me going.





Chapter Fifty-Seven — Eva


I always believed in giving a person the benefit of the doubt. Mercy above justice. What Harrison had told me filled me with sorrow. For everything he’d been through and all he’d lost—his youth had been ripped from him as well as his future. I could understand why he felt as he did.

But that didn’t mean he was right. Hating Ryder and wanting to stop him and Jade from being together was unhealthy, to say the least. I'd encouraged Ryder and Jade to talk about what had happened on the day she’d lost their baby, as part of their healing and coming to grips with their loss. Through her tears and sorrow, Jade hadn’t accused Harrison; she just gave me a step-by-step account of how it happened, without blaming him.

Now I'd listened to Harrison’s story with as much compassion as I could muster, but some parts freaked me the fuck out. Did I really want to get tangled up with a man who was so damaged? Was it possible to repair and heal his brokenness? I didn’t know the answer. It seemed impossible to unchain his heart and mind from the incident that held him captive a decade later.

“Now you hate me even more, huh?” he said, his frown deepening as he trained his eyes on my face. He moved his head off my lap and sat at the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

Staring at his broad shoulders, I had to think for a while before answering. Slowly, I shook my head. “No, I don’t hate you. I just hate what you’ve become. And what you did to Jade and Ryder.” There was no other way than to be brutally honest, even if it hurt.

He sucked in a breath, held it for a few moments, then exhaled slowly. “For the record: I didn’t kill Jade’s baby—it was a misunderstanding and . . . an accident. Falling down the stairs did the damage.”