Rushing the Goal (Assassins #8)(75)

Always would.

Clearing his throat, begging himself not to break down in front of Lucy, he went on. “My younger brother Silas offered to drive us back, so he got into the driver’s seat. By the time we took off, I was passed out, my hand in Leary’s. But when I woke up, I was in the hospital and they explained to me that I was the only one who survived a crash with a semi.”

Lucy’s hands dropped his, covering her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. He had to look away again, swallowing hard. “Leary and Silas died on impact, they were hit first. But Ava wasn’t so lucky. A piece of glass slashed her throat and she bled out slowly, and I did nothing. I was passed out drunk, and I still hate that I couldn’t save her. That I was so f*cked up, I couldn’t be there for my wife. Once again.”

Shaking his head, the tears threatened to fall as his jaw clenched and he was unable to look at Lucy. “I buried my brother on a Tuesday, my wife and my daughter on a Wednesday. All closed caskets because they were all so f*cked up, and all I had was a stupid f*cking broken arm.”

“Benji, oh my goodness, Benji,” she cried, her voice full of sorrow as she crawled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He wasn’t done, though. Tightening his arms around her, he pressed his head into her shoulder as his own shoulders started to shake, and he whispered in a tear-filled voice, “I lived, while they didn’t. My family, her family, all hate me. I haven’t really talked to them since the day of the funeral. I was alone, empty inside. So it’s easy to say I went off the deep end.” As he sucked in a breath, those months of hopeless bewilderment flashed through his mind. “I drank until I couldn’t drink anymore. I got into fights. I f*cked anything with tits. I was a poor excuse for a person. And one night, after a nasty fight in a bar, they threw me out the back, my face hitting the curb. God, it sucked. I rolled over, and when I sat up and I looked around, I saw this mirror. The person looking back at me, I didn’t even know. I was disgusting. I didn’t even remember the last time I’d showered. I wanted to die. There was even a piece of glass lying there, and I almost just ended it, I did. But then she was there, in the mirror. Ava. She was disgusted—who could blame her? She just shook her head, saying this wasn’t the man she loved, and she was right. I wasn’t that fresh-faced teenager; that kid was gone. All that was left was shit.”

Swallowing hard, he closed his eyes. “I promised her I would change, and she said, I’ve heard that before. But this time was different. Somehow I got up, I went to the closest church, and I prayed. I prayed so f*cking hard, it hurt. I asked for forgiveness, not only from the Lord, but from Ava, Leary, and Silas. When I opened my eyes, I knew what I had to do. I took a cab to the nearest rehab center and I checked myself in.”

Pulling back, she looked at him, tears streaming down her face as he spoke the words that choked him on the way out. “Never touched another drink another day in my life. Never wanted it. Never wanted to disrespect their names, since I had already taken their lives.”

“You didn’t take their lives, Benji. It wasn’t your fault,” she tried, but he shook his head. He had heard that plenty of times.

“If I hadn’t been drunk, I could have driven my family home. My seventeen-year-old brother wouldn’t have had to drive on the interstate where he wasn’t comfortable. It’s my fault they are dead and I’ve coped with it, but I turned into a hermit because I blame myself so bad. I always knew that someone would come along and wake me up, make me happy again. And I don’t want to scare you, Lucy, I don’t, but I believe that person is you.” Her eyes widened and, shit, why did he say that? Before he knew what he was doing, he was stammering out words. “Wow, okay, sorry. I just got carried away there. Please—”

“Don’t apologize,” she demanded, holding his face. “But you listen to me right now.”

He met her gaze. Her eyes were full of tears, her mouth parted, her nose red from her crying.

For him.

For Ava and Leary.

“First, please tell me that you like me for me and not because Angie and I remind you of Leary and Ava.” Her eyes were wild, and fear settled deep in his chest as he quickly shook his head, his eyes widening.

“God, no, not at all. It’s been twelve years since I lost them. I promise, I was attracted to you for you. I saw you first. I saw your eyes, Lucy. It was you, not you guys as a package—that’s just a bonus. I promise. I can’t replace what I lost, I know that, but I want to be happy. I want to love my life.”

“Then you can’t f*cking blame yourself, Benji,” she said, her hands tightening on his face. “This f*cking sucks, and I hate that you have suffered this kind of loss. I do. It hurts my soul. No one should have to go through that, but, Benji, it is not your fault. Yes, you were a drunk, you f*cked up, but you did not kill them. Yeah, shoulda-coulda-woulda, but you have to stop blaming yourself or you will never move on. Believe me, I know. Totally different situation, but you can’t blame yourself.”

He swallowed thickly. “I know, but it’s hard.”

“And I don’t doubt that. I can’t imagine. But you will never be happy until you are at peace with what happened.”

“I’m happy with you,” he whispered, holding her gaze, and her face contorted in pain.

“But are you using me to mask that pain?”