A Season of Angels (Angels Everywhere #1)(79)

“What are you doing here?” he said.

“My father wanted me to apologize,” she began haltingly. “He never intended to offend you.”

“You’ve apologized, now go.”

What gave her to courage to stay, Monica would never know. “Why are you moving?”

He didn’t answer, but continued working at a furious pace, lifting several thick folders at a time, carelessly tossing them into the box.

“Where are you going?” she asked, trying a different vein.

“Away. Monica,” her name was little more than a frustrated sigh, “please, just go. Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.”

“All right,” she agreed and he visibly relaxed at her words. “If you answer one question.”

“It’s over,” he said with sharp impatience. “Leave it at that.”

“I can’t.” Monica had honestly tried to accept that he wanted her out of his life. But no matter how hard she struggled to find acceptance none would come.

“I’m not going to debate the issue with you.”

“Just tell me why you don’t want my love,” she said forcefully. “Tell me what it is about me—”

“It has nothing to do with you. The problem is mine.”

“Then tell me. I need to know.” Despite her efforts to the contrary, her voice cracked with the strain of emotion.

Chet moved as if he were in pain, slowly and with difficulty. His back was to her as he stared out the window. Monica stayed where she was by the door, trembling and hating herself for subjecting them to this torment a second time.

The room seemed to spark with tension.

“I know you love me,” she whispered. “You can’t make me believe you don’t. There has to be something more.”

“I’m not good enough for you,” he shouted. “Now for the love of God get out of here.”

“No,” she said softly. “Not until you tell me why you aren’t good enough.”

“Monica, please.”

She walked over and stood next to him. He was so close she could feel his frustration. It seemed to come off him in waves.

“Why aren’t you good enough?” she asked again.

Chet’s hands were braced against the windowsill, his knuckles white. A war was being waged within him and the battle seemed to be a fierce one. When he turned to face her, his eyes were dull with pain.

“I murdered a man,” he shouted. “There, you know, now leave.” He pointed toward the door, his face growing red and angry. “Get out of my life, understand, before I ruin yours too.”

The force of his anger rocked her, but Monica stood her ground. “I don’t know the circumstances,” she said shakily, “but if you killed him, then he must have deserved to die.”

Chet jerked back as if she’d slapped him.

“It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, I’ll always love you.”

“No,” Chet cried, and then reached for her, hauling her into his arms. The strength of his embrace all but crushed her, but Monica didn’t care. There wasn’t anyplace else she would rather be than with Chet. He seemed to be drinking in her softness, as if it were as vital to him in that moment as oxygen.

After a short while, he released a harsh shudder and relaxed his hold enough for her to breathe comfortably. He brushed the hair from her temple and kissed her there. “I’ll always love you, too,” he whispered brokenly.

It felt like heaven to be in his arms. For the first time in days Monica felt whole, as if the part of her that had been missing had been found.

“You’re right when you say he deserved to die. He was a drug lord and brought misery to thousands all for the sake of money and power. An easy death was too good for him. He deserved to suffer.”

“Are you wanted by the police?”

He shook his head and laughed shortly. “No, I was too smart for that. I goaded him into a fight and I knew, being the weasel he was, he’d go for his weapon. He did, but I was ready. After an investigation, it was decided that I acted in self-defense, but I knew the truth. I murdered him just as if I’d waited in a dark alley and shot him in the back. He didn’t have a chance.”

“The gunshot wound,” she said, flattening her hand over the scar on Chet’s shoulder. She could feel it even through the material of his shirt. “That was when you were shot, wasn’t it?”

“No,” Chet told her. “Not then.”

“He scared you, though, didn’t he? Tell me what he did to you.”

“None of that matters.” He released her then abruptly as if he feared her touch, and backed away. “You got the answer you wanted, now go.”

“But, Chet—”

“Go.”

Monica flinched. “All right, but there’s something you should know.”

“How much more of this is there?”

“Not much, I promise you.” Her voice wobbled a bit, but with the strength of her pride she managed to keep it under control. “There’ll never be anyone who loves you more than I do.”

“Monica.” He groaned. “Stop, please. This isn’t necessary.”

“It is for me, so do me the courtesy of listening. Someday you’re going to look back on your life and regret this moment.”