Brax chuckles. “Can’t imagine Chase loved that, but it seems to have worked out. Happy’s definitely a color he pulls off.”
“I won’t hurt him,” I whisper, compelled to defend myself.
His eyes grow tender. “I know that, Erin.” He takes a seat, facing me. “Start from the beginning.”
The plan was to tell Bella and Griff. Not Brax.
I shake my head quickly. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I…”
“Erin, you’re not in trouble. You can talk to me. It’s just us. I promise nothing is going to happen to you,” he says, eyes sincere as he holds my hand.
I realize I can’t hold my words back anymore. I can’t keep this secret any longer. Not after what he saw, after what I asked him.
“My name’s not Erin,” I tell him. “It’s Lucia Alvarez.”
Brax just looks at me.
“My parents were Carlos and Clarissa Rose Alvarez. When I was eight, my dad was murdered. I didn’t know who killed him.” My voice splinters, that same rawness clawing at my throat that came when I saw my dad lying on that floor lifeless. “Not until today, anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“I never saw the face of the woman who shot my father. I only heard her voice,” I explain. “I always thought the person who shot him was a scorned lover, but I’ve been wrong this whole time—for years.”
Brax hands tighten around my shaking ones.
“I remember everything about her, Brax. My mother’s voice has been in my head foryears. I know the way it sounds when she’s mad. So why didn’t I recognize it that day?”
I look up at Brax. The sad look on his face tells me he finally gets it.
I repeat myself. “Why didn’t I recognize her voice?”
The answer blooms as a rotten, unreliable truth.
“Why didn’t I know that the person who killed my father… That the voice I heard,” my breath shudders, “was my mother’s?”
Brax shuffles forward on the bench and cradles me. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers as his chin lands on the top of my head.
I sob, letting it sink in.
“How could I not know it was her?”
“Difficulty with voice recognition can be a result of trauma. What you went through that day, Erin, was nothing shy of it,” Brax says in a gentle tone. “It’s possible that when you heard the gunshot you went into a state of shock and your brain didn’t allow you to recognize a voice you’ve always known.” He explains it as if he has experience with it firsthand. “It’s not your fault. It was just your body’s way of protecting you.”
“This whole time…” My words die on my lips. It makes so much sense now. “I walked in on her cheating on my dad years ago. She told me not to say anything or bad things would happen. I just never thought she would be the one to carry it out.”
Brax pulls back. His face hardens as if he’s angryforme.
“I’m sorry for what your mom asked you to do, for what you saw. It was wrong. You were a kid, Erin. She was the adult. She should have known better.”
“I know.”
Still holding on to me, he asks, “What did you mean when you asked if it was a crime to witness a murder and not report it? Did you lie to the police about what happened that night?”
I shake my head against him. “No. I didn’t lie.” I pull out of his strong hold and swipe under my eyes.
Brax’s brows furrow, but he doesn’t speak. He just sits there, waiting for me to tell him what I’m comfortable with him knowing.
“I was never asked, so I never told anyone.”
