He shudders, but he turns his face into my hand so he can kiss my palm.
His gaze is sharp enough to cut into me. “I didn’t stop him this time, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
My heart squeezes. He ended up in the river because of me. We both could’ve drowned.
“What if I can’t keepyousafe?” I ask, strained.
His fingers trail through my hair in a soothing rhythm. “It’s not your job to protect me.”
I shake my head. “Everyone I get close to gets hurt.”
No, that’s not right. It’s so much worse than that.
“They end up dead,” I whisper.
His thumb hooks beneath my jaw, so I have no choice but to look up at him.
“I’m not dead,” he reassures me. “I’m right here.”
I shake my head. He doesn’t understand.
His brow furrows. “If this is about your stalker killing Rich, I already told you it’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself.”
I try to shake my head again, but he holds me immobile.
“It’s not Rich. Well, not only him. He’s not the only one who’s died because of me.”
Rand goes utterly still.
“My parents,” I admit shakily. “I caused their deaths.”
His features harden to a stern mask. “You were a child. How could you possibly be at fault?”
I force the confession through my constricted throat. “I was at a sleepover. There was a storm, and I got scared. I called them and begged them to pick me up in the middle of the night. They got caught in a flash flood.”
He refuses to release my face from his tender but steady hold. “It was a freak accident. You can’t control the weather.”
“It’s not just them.” I’m desperate for him to understand. “I don’t want to do it again.”
If he doesn’t kill me, my stalker wants to rape me. The last time that happened, I murdered two people to protect myself.
All these years, I’ve barely been able to live with it. Even if this twisted madman needs to be eliminated, I don’t want to be the one to end him.
“Do what again?” Rand presses.
The guilt bubbles up to the surface, and the truth pours out of me before I can think better of it.
“My foster brother…” I choke on the admission. “I killed him.”
Rand’s expression goes blank, but his fingers flex ever so slightly on my jaw.
“Carter…” I stumble over my bully’s name.
I had no love for him, but we shared a home. He was close to me, and he died. At my hand.
“Tell me what happened,” Rand demands.
My stomach churns.
