Wicked Burn(98)

Vic merely nodded.

Niall swallowed thickly. “How . . . how did you find out about Matthew Manning?”

“I went to Chicago this morning. I looked for you both at your loft and at the museum. I ran into Evan Forrester at Toulouse’s bar.”

Niall’s jaw dropped. “Evan Forrester? How does he know anything about Matthew Manning?”

Vic shrugged. “He said it was from the papers, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the guy trolls for gossip about you every chance he gets. He’s a real bottom-feeder.”

“I know,” she whispered. She toyed anxiously with the butterfly.

“Matthew Manning’s execution was postponed, Vic. They sent me a letter yesterday. The state assembly’s temporary lifting of the moratorium on the death sentence for the special case of Manning was ruled unconstitutional by the Illinois Supreme Court.”

“My God,” Vic muttered, floored by the news. “It wasn’t in any of the newspapers—”

“They tried to downplay it since several political groups on both sides of the issue were threatening demonstrations today. They were informed by special delivery—just like I was—by the governor of Illinois, saying that Matthew Manning’s fate now hangs in the same balance as the thousand or so other inmates on death row in Illinois.”

“How . . . how do you feel about it, Niall?” Vic asked uneasily. He couldn’t begin to imagine what she experienced in regard to the man who had so senselessly murdered her innocent child. Seeing Donny in the hospital this afternoon had torn him apart, and he knew what he felt about the boy was nowhere near as deep and complex as what Niall must have felt for the son she bore from her own body.

Niall stared down at the bed. “I’m not a bloodthirsty person, Vic. I’m glad I’m not the one who has to decide Manning’s fate. I’ll accept whatever punishment the law passes down. But I will tell you one thing. I was relieved yesterday when I got that letter.”

“You were?”

Niall nodded, her head still lowered. “There’s been so much violence . . . so much hatred. I’ll do whatever is required to ensure that Manning never sees the light of day again for the rest of his life. But I just want all the violence to stop.” She swallowed painfully. “I just want my little boy to be able to rest in peace.”

She eventually broke the prolonged silence that fell between them.

“I wanted to tell you about Michael, Vic. Not just about his murder. Everything. He was such an amazing little boy,” she said with a small, desperate laugh. “I . . . I’ve really hated the fact that I haven’t been able to talk about him for so long. He deserves so much better than that . . .”

Vic’s hand cupped her jaw, gently urging her to meet his gaze. Niall complied with his unspoken request despite the fact that tears flowed from her eyes and a choking sensation in her throat prevented her from continuing.

“Give yourself time, Niall. It’ll come. It’ll come because you want it to, not because it’s required.”

Niall nodded and waited for the painful sensation in her throat to fade. “I wanted to tell you about Stephen, too. But every time I tried, I just . . . couldn’t.”

“I think I know why you didn’t want to tell me. You were afraid I would judge you. Evan Forrester wasn’t the only person I ran into at Toulouse, Niall. I spoke with Kendra Phillips as well.”

He nodded when he noticed the surprised widening of her eyes. “Unlike Forrester, Kendra would never run on at the mouth about you. But I think she saw what a mess I was and took pity on me. She told me what she knew about Michael’s murder and Stephen’s breakdown during Matthew Manning’s trial. She explained how your parents condemned you for divorcing Stephen. You were afraid to tell me about your past because you didn’t want to be judged again.” He paused for a second as he caressed her. “I have a suspicion that your ex-husband laid some kind of a guilt trip on you, too, didn’t he?”

Niall started. “How did you know that?”

Vic winced slightly at her question, and she realized that she’d just unintentionally confirmed his suspicion. How had he found out the truth? She’d never told anybody about how Stephen regularly ranted at her that the person killed that day should have been her. She’d never revealed how she’d discovered that Stephen projected onto Niall his own misguided guilt about not being there on the day that Michael was murdered.

“I don’t know why I thought it, exactly. Maybe it was from all those nights holding you while you slept. It was like you carried the burden of the world when you dreamed, baby,” he said softly.

Their gazes remained locked for several long seconds. “I’ll never forget the look on your face that day when you saw how I reacted to the truth about you being married. It was like I’d just confirmed all of your fears about revealing the truth to me . . . like you accepted the judgment I passed on you. God, I’m sorry for that, Niall. You have no idea how much. I had no right to pass judgment on you.”

His thumb tenderly caught the tear that skittered down her cheek.

“I’m sorry, as well,” she admitted. “I shut you out after that night because of my own guilt. It’s sort of hard, when you’ve been surrounded by so much misery and grief for so long, to think that it’s possible to deserve something as wonderful as the way I felt about you . . . the way I feel about you,” she added in a whisper.