Legend (Arizona Vengeance #3)(76)

Regan bends her head so that her face is now pressed into my chest and I can feel the heat of her tears soaking into the fabric of my shirt. I tighten my hold and start to rock back and forth, not saying a word so I don’t interrupt the catharsis of her grief.

When she starts to quiet, I pull back slightly to look at her. The black streaks of mascara under her eyes and extending down to the tops of her cheeks make her look even more frail and vulnerable.

I give her a smile, hoping to get one back. Wanting her to acknowledge that was good and freeing to some extent; that I gave her the security of a good old fashioned emotional cry.

    Instead, she worries at her bottom lip as she tries to wipe the blackness out from under her eyes. It’s only a flash, but I see she’s incredibly troubled about something. It’s gone just as quick when she shoots me an overly bright smile which looks forced and painful.

“What is it, Regan?” I ask as my fingers come under her chin to force her to look at me. “Something’s wrong and I want to know—”

“It’s nothing,” she says in a tone so automatic and programmed that I know the truth if the exact opposite.

“Regan…it’s me. You’ve known me your entire life. You know what Lance meant to me. I swear to God that whatever is wrong, I’ll help you fix it. There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.”

“Honestly,” she replies as she tries to make her smile bigger in an attempt to throw me off. “Everything’s fine. I’m just tired and ready to get back home.”

Home for Regan is southern California where she stayed after graduating from college to be a nurse. Lance didn’t like her being clear across the country as it impeded his ability to visit with her during the small pockets of time he might have available during the regular season.

But Regan had apparently gone from shy to incredibly independent in the years since I’d seen her and by Lance’s account, was loving her life there.

“You don’t have to be so strong all the time,” I tell her, hoping it will help to break through her stubborn refusal to share with me what has her worried.

    Her lower lip quivers ever so slightly but she keeps her smile in place. “I’m fine, Dax.”

“You’re not,” I retort, absolutely positive she’s lying to me.

Regan’s lips press into a flat line and her eyes harden. She’s shut herself down and erected a wall, and I consider what new tact I should take to break through.

An insanely irrational thought bursts with vivid color in my mind. It’s of me grabbing her by the shoulders, hauling her into me and kissing the hell out of her.

I shake my head, blink and refocus. We engage in a staring war but given that I’m more stubborn than Regan could ever hope to be, I shore my resolve.

Whether she senses it or not, I’ll probably never know but to my incredible surprise, her face crumbles and she practically wails, “Oh, God…Dax. Everything is wrong. Lance ran up a ton of debt and I have creditors pouring out of the wood work demanding payment. Lance’s accounts are empty and he didn’t have any life insurance. I have no clue—”

“What do you mean he didn’t have life insurance?” I cut in.

“I called,” she says as a tear escapes and slides down her cheek. She dashes it away. “It had been canceled.”

I mutter as I look helplessly around for the answer to all her problems. It’s not within the packed boxes which is all that’s left of Lance. When I look back to her, I say, “That’s not on you though, Regan. You’re not responsible for his debts.”

“I know,” she says without equivocation. “It’s just…of course I know that.”

    I watch her with a critical eye and I evaluate her last words. She knows Lance’s problems aren’t her problems now. Yet…something is still weighing on her. I can actually feel it radiating off her.

“What else is wrong?” I ask her, crossing my arms over my chest. It’s a move to show her that I’m not budging until she lays it all out.

She opens her mouth and I sense the denial. I shake my head. “Don’t think to lie to me. Spill it.”

For a moment, she stares at me with blank eyes before her shoulders sag. Regan blows out a frustrated breath, brushing her hair back from her face.

“One of the reasons he was in debt is because of me,” she admits in a low voice that’s not quite shameful but perhaps resigned.

“You?” I ask, my brows knitting in confusion.

She nods and the smile I get is sad. “I’ve been sick and he’s been helping with my expenses.”

“Sick?” I ask, because how sick do you have to be to drive a person into debt. Especially someone who makes bank the way Lance did. And for that matter…“Don’t you have health insurance?”

“I was still on Lance’s,” she replies. “At my age, I still qualified as his dependent, especially since I was starting my master’s program. But now that he’s dead…”

I blink in surprise. I didn’t know she was going back to school. I also didn’t know she was sick.

How the fuck did I not know that?

“Lance never said anything,” I mutter.

    Her smile turns understanding. “That was at my request. I didn’t want anyone to know.”