Page 44 of The Complete Truth Duet
And again.
And again.
And again.
Each time ending in a different variation of the first.
And then I stopped trying—and made a plan.
“I lost my husband, too,” I admitted for some ridiculous reason. However, at the time, it didn’t feel ridiculous at all.
The two of us shared different, yet tragically similar experiences few people could understand. And we were forced to carry them, like a five-hundred-pound backpack cementing our feet to the Earth far more than gravity ever could. Suddenly, the heaviness in his eyes made sense. It was the same burden that had settled in my chest.
I understood Penn in ways I didn’t want to. And, suddenly, for the first time since Nic died, I wanted someone to understand me too.
“We were just walking down the street when he was gunned down. God, Penn. The blood was everywhere, covering me from head to toe, seeping into the cracks in the sidewalk. He asked if I was okay, and then…he died right on top of me. But it was my life that ended on that sidewalk too. Nothing was ever the same after that.”
“Jesus, Cora,” he breathed, slipping his arms around my waist and pulling me into the curve of his large body.
He was offering comfort in his arms, and I was taking it without question.
“In a way, Nic saved me twice. My dad was crazy religious. Emphasis on crazy. As far as he was concerned, my only place in life was barefoot in a kitchen, serving the Lord and whatever man would take me. Meanwhile, from the time I was old enough to look out the window, I wanted to see the world.” I laughed sadly. “I was going to be famous, with plenty of money, and gallivant around the globe. I just knew it. Instead, I found a star in Nic and then fell into an even bigger black hole than my father ever could have created. The entire Guerrero family tried to stop us from getting married. We were kids. Sixteen and eighteen. But there was no arguing with Nic when he got his mind stuck on something. And, for some reason, from the day we met, he was stuck on me—a troubled girl on the run who counted on him for everything.”
“That why you took in Savannah?” he whispered, rubbing a hand up and down my back. “She remind you of yourself at that age?”
Fighting back tears, I turned my head and planted the side of my face against his chest so he couldn’t see my eyes. “Yeah. And River too. A few more years and that child is going to land me in a padded room, I just know it.”
“That’s why you take care of all the girls here.”
I shrugged. “Somebody has to.”
“Shit, Cora.” He rested his chin on the top of my head. “So Nic took care of you, and then he was gone.”
“Pretty much. I’ve been on my own a lot. And then you… This thing. You don’t know me, and technically, I don’t know you, but just standing here while you hold me, somebody having my back… Well, it’s more than I’ve had in over thirteen years.”
Penn gathered me tighter, and I thought I felt his lips press against the top of my head, causing the most beautiful calm to wash over me.
This part of me, very few knew about. I kept it close to my chest. It was safer that way. But telling Penn didn’t feel like I was exposing myself.
With him, they didn’t feel like secrets at all.
“It’s stupid. I know. And I’m sorry I’ve been pushing you to make something happen here. But I needed this. Whatever it is. For however long it lasts. I needed it.” My voice broke at the end.
“Shhhh… Maybe I needed to be pushed.”
There was no denying that I felt his lips on the top of my head that time. I would have recognized it even if the shiver hadn’t traveled down my spine.
“And, Cora, being with you isn’t exactly torture. So no apologies needed, okay?”
I was definitely right about Penn. He was a really good guy.
He sucked in a deep breath. “However, at the risk of pissing you off again, I want to be honest and let you know I’ve heard all about Nic. Drew told me.”
I turned to stone in his arms.
Right. No doubt Manuel had rambled for hours about the devil I was and the curse I’d brought onto his family.
Straightening, I tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but Penn didn’t budge.
“Say the word, Cora, and I’ll let you go, but I’d really like it if you didn’t.”
I stilled, my heart aching. “Did he tell Drew that it was my fault? Nic dying?”
He shook his head, the five-o’clock stubble on his jaw scratching my cheek. “I don’t know what Manuel told Drew about that. But I can promise you, after meeting Marcos and Dante, neither of us think a Guerrero getting killed was your fault.”
