A Deep and Dark December(92)
“I’m freeing you of your obligation.”
“What the f*ck is that supposed to mean?”
She bowed her head and rubbed her eyes. So tired. She was so tired and achy, hurting from the inside out. “I can’t be the amends you make. I can’t be the thing that ties you to this town. I can’t let you use our relationship as some kind of half-assed attempt at absolution.”
“That’s not—”
She whipped her head up to glare at him. “Bullshit!”
“I don’t know what you think you know about me, but you’re all wrong.”
“Am I?”
*
No, she wasn’t, Graham suddenly realized. Not entirely. Her tone was like a chisel to his chest, chipping away at all the bullshit she’d called him out on. He did feel guilty for her getting shot. It was his fault. The bullets he’d loaded into his gun had torn through her flesh and could’ve killed her.
Everything was so f*cked up and off center he couldn’t entirely trust his own judgment when it came to her. She’d gotten one important fact wrong though—he was so head over heels in love with her he hardly had a thought without her in it. And he definitely didn’t see her as an obligation.
“You’re not tying me to this town.” It was all he had to offer her. “I’m the sheriff. At least I will be once I’m cleared and off of administrative leave. With Adam away I’m all my mom’s got. I’ve been planning on staying in San Rey for some time now.”
She laughed, but it rang hollow and sad between them. “Really? That’s a switch.”
“What do you want me to say?” Because he’d say it, do it, whatever it took to make her stay with him.
“Nothing.”
“So that’s it? We’re just over.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
She stared at him, hugging her disappointment to her as tightly as her arm wrapped around her body. Goddammit! What did she want from him?
He turned and left, his feet taking him away from her and the purest moments of joy he’d ever known. The further he got, the hotter he burned. By the time he exited the hospital he wanted to hit something so bad he shook with it. He climbed into his car and slammed the door closed. Tearing out of the parking lot, he didn’t care about getting lit up for speeding. He had to get far away from Erin and her words that chased him like rabid dogs, chomping and snarling.
He struck the steering wheel with the flat of his hand over and over until the pain radiated up his arm and into his shoulder. It didn’t help. The pressure rose inside, threatening to spill over.
What in the hell was he supposed to do without her?
Erin was released from the hospital the same day as Ham’s funeral. She sat at the back of the church with her aunt who had insisted on coming along with her even though Cerie would rather spit on Ham’s casket than grieve over it.
Erin wasn’t there to mourn Ham either. There were no respects to pay. She wasn’t sure why she’d come. Maybe it was for a glimpse of Graham, to see how he was doing and to be there for him in some small way. They’d slipped into the end of the last pew just before the service started so all she could see of him was the back of his head. He had an arm across his mother’s shaking shoulders and would lean down to whisper to her every now and then.
Erin accepted the well wishes of passersby. Their concern felt genuine as though she was truly, finally one of them. The tale of what had happened between her and Graham and Ham had somehow become romanticized, like some twisted Romeo and Juliet tale. The townspeople accepted it as a point of town pride and there’d been talk about some kind of plaque or monument to what had happened on the bluffs, which she’d heard Graham had quashed.
If they only knew the true story.
The service began and the reverend spoke of Ham’s accomplishments, his tenure as sheriff, his family, and his community activities. There was no mention of the deaths he’d caused or the terror he’d inflicted. Nearly the entire town of San Rey had turned out. Every seat was filled, with the overflow standing at the sides and back. And not one of them had any idea that the man they’d come to pay tribute to was a monster.
The mayor made a speech, followed by a few community leaders. Then Graham rose and made his way to the front of the room. Her stomach whooshed at her first sight of him since that day in the hospital. She’d heard that he’d been cleared in the shooting and reinstated as sheriff. She was glad. He didn’t deserve to pay for what his father had done.
He wore a somber dark suit and tie, which hung like it had been made for him. He looked out at the crowd through tired eyes. She drank him in, savoring every single nuance, from the way he’d combed his hair back to the new lines that bracketed his mouth. Had it only been a little over a week since she’d seen him? It felt like forever.
“My mother, brother, and I would like to thank you all for coming,” he began. “In lieu of flowers, we’re asking for donations to The Alzheimer’s Foundation of America. Your support through this difficult time for our family means the world to us. Thank you.”
As he turned from the podium his gaze caught on Erin, lingered, then swung away toward his mother. She’d almost forgotten what it felt like to have Graham Doran’s attention on her. It still packed a punch that would’ve rocked her back on her heels if she’d been standing. She wanted to go to him and offer comfort, but it wasn’t her place anymore.