Rushing the Goal (Assassins #8)(105)

“Yeah, and I understand, but your dad knows the case. He’s been there since the beginning, right?” She nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. “Then maybe you should stick with him. He’ll fight for Angie because, surely, he loves her.”

She leaned her head to his chin, and he just wanted to make her feel better. His heart was jackhammering in his chest, and he was unsure of what to do. He wanted to make the pain go away. He wanted her to smile. But how? What could he do?

“You’re right, but it’s just… I don’t want to put Angie through all this. I don’t think it’s fair to her. She’s at the age now where she knows what’s going on. She knows when I’m sad, when I fight with him. And dragging him into court is going to put the spotlight on her. I just don’t want to hurt her, but I also can’t fail her.”

He nodded as she sat up, crossing her legs and running her hand down her face. Moving his hand into hers, he laced their fingers. “But what is best for Angie?”

Her lip trembled as she shook her head. “I don’t know. I want it to be easy. I want him to be a good man and love his daughter. I pray all the time that he’ll change, but he won’t. And I don’t know if I’m hurting her more by leaving her there with him or taking her away. But the look in her eyes, Benji, it was like having the air knocked out of me.”

“Does she want to go there?”

“I don’t know. Some days I think so, but then some, I don’t. Tonight, she most definitely did not want to go, but that’s ’cause he was so iffy about hockey tomorrow, I’m sure.” Running his hands through his hair, he met her worried gaze. “Am I jumping the gun? Am I freaking out for nothing? Maybe he was just being a dick, but tomorrow will be fine?” She was hopeful, but he was pretty sure the dude was a dick twenty-four seven.

“I don’t know, babe.”

She made a sound of frustration as she covered her face with her hands. “I just wish I’d never met him. No, I don’t regret Angie, but damn him, I regret him. More than anything.”

Now is not the time to ask. It isn’t. Don’t ask. Do not ask.

“Can you tell me what happened between you two, baby?” he asked and he cringed. Apparently, he didn’t know how to talk himself out of stuff. She looked up and his eyes held hers. “’Cause I really don’t understand how someone can treat their child and their child’s mother like this. I cannot imagine.”

“Because you’re a decent guy, Benji. Not everyone is cut from the same cloth as you.”

“I understand that, but if Ava and Leary were alive, and our situation was like yours, I would do right by them. I would be a man about it.”

She looked down, moving her fingers along the back of his hand. “I know that, which is why I think you’re really amazing.”

“Well, thanks.” As he watched her, she continued to trace the back of his hand, her lips moving but no words leaving her mouth. Her neck was turning red, her face flushed from her tears as she struggled with what she wanted to say. It was painful to watch, and finally, he said, “Do you not want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.”

His voice was rough, unsure what to say next. He wanted to know. He wanted to know that part of her not only so he would understand Rick, if there was a way to understand him, but because that was the last part of her he didn’t know. He wanted to know everything about her. He wanted her to be open with him, to fully trust him.

He wanted to find a way to help.

“But I should,” she whispered, leaning into his hand. “Because you deserve to know.”

He looked up then as a tear rolled down her cheek. “I don’t want you to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, I do,” she said softly, another tear sliding down her cheek. “I just hate talking about him. About what he did to me and Angie. I hate strolling down memory lane when it comes to Rick.”

He could tell, so bringing the back of her hand to his lips, he kissed it softly before saying, “Don’t worry about it, then.”

He wanted to know, but he refused to put her under any more stress than needed. Being Lucy, though, headstrong and stubborn, she shook her head and swallowed hard. He watched her as she sat for a moment, breathing in and out. When she looked up, a haunted expression swirled in those deep green eyes.

And Benji knew he was in for a doozy.





She cleared her throat, and Benji watched as she struggled with the words, his heart pounding in his chest.

“I met Rick in high school,” she said then, exhaling his name, but not in a good way. Almost in a disgusted way. Like his name was just the nastiest thing she could have had in her mouth. “He was the bad boy from the trailer park who wanted to do bad things. With me. I was eighteen, straight A’s, captain of the softball team, and I was going to go to law school like my daddy did. Problem was, I was also going through that rebel phase since my dad told me to keep my head in the game, not to veer off course ’cause I had law school to worry about. I didn’t want to keep my head in the game, though. I wanted to have fun because, for the last four years, I had done what I was told and everything that was expected of me. Enter Rick. He had a motorcycle that, looking back, I’m sure wasn’t safe, but I loved riding on the back of that thing. Pissed my parents off, but I was having fun.”