The image of him and me on a pallet of worn blankets on the floor of a dumpy apartment flashed through my head. Because in my mind, he had that same laugh, but the happy expression lasted more than fifteen seconds.
And I knew for better or worse I was in. The worse could be a whole lot better if he let loose one of those grins every so often.
“Do what?”
“We’re in the middle of hell, and you make me laugh.” He touched my cheek and his expression held so much behind it.
It was my turn to bust out laughing. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we? You ask what’s wrong and I say I love you. Then I say something heartfelt and you laugh.”
“I wasn’t laughing at what you said.”
I straightened to a sitting position. “I know. It was the tap to the head.” I did it again for emphasis.
He stared at the ceiling. “What’s your relationship like with your parents?” He dropped his head toward me.
I went cold inside. “I hate them. And I hate them even more for making me hate them.”
Something in his eyes told me he understood that.
“Sometimes I wonder what I would be like if my mother hadn’t died.” There was a sadness in his words that spoke of pain and loss.
“Sometimes I wish my parents were dead,” I whispered. It was an awful thought. One I was ashamed of.
Shit for brains. Shit for brains.
And that was all it took to erase that shame. No one should speak that way to anyone. Ever. Especially not a father to his son.
“I can’t imagine what that unburdening would feel like.” He adjusted the sheet. “I don’t think I’ll ever be free of him.”
“Why do you have anything to do with him? Teague doesn’t.”
“Because an unoccupied Samuel Hollingsworth is a dangerous man. If he has too much time to think, I don’t know what kind of torment he’d put Beau and Teague through. I never intend to find out.”
I placed a hand on his stomach. “You can’t live your life to protect them.”
Slowly, he rolled his head toward me. “The way you do?”
It was different. Eric needed support in ways his brother and sister didn’t.
“That’s not fair and you know it.”
“You had a choice, and by all means I believe it was the right one, but you didn’t have to step into the role you have.” Respect infused every syllable.
“I don’t see that I had an option at all. I’d die before I’d let Eric be left to the state or anyone else.” I hadn’t done anything extraordinary by ensuring Eric would be cared for. I did what anyone in my position should have done.
He put a hand on my hip. “You . . .”
I waited for him to finish his thought, but he searched my face as if he hoped I could do it for him.
“I’ve never had a problem articulating my thoughts, but with you . . . it’s difficult. Every day you make me feel something I never have before. And I don’t know how to put any of it into words.” His grip on my hip tightened.
He was wrong. He knew exactly how to say what he felt. It was me who couldn’t take his sweetness. How could he be the same man I’d verbally sparred with so many times?
I’d never have imagined just how big his heart was, and every time he showed it to me it was like a sucker punch.
I had the urge to scoot closer and run as far and fast as I could all at the same time. His intensity was so much to take in. I wanted it, but this was all new territory for me too.
“I don’t think you have any problem articulating at all,” I said quietly. Even his silence spoke volumes.
“I think I might lose everything I’ve worked for,” he said hoarsely.
We were ping-ponging from topic to topic so fast it was hard to keep up. But it made me see that he trusted me. He was opening his heart and mind . . . No wonder I loved this man.
“Did something happen?” I didn’t have nearly as much at stake, but my arrest had helped me to understand somewhat how he felt.
“Just a gut feeling.”
“Is there anything you can do about it?” As soon as I asked the question, I realized I’d said you. Not we. Like it was his burden alone to bear.
He’d been there for me through everything lately, and I hadn’t given him the same support. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know how to help him keep what he’d worked for. If I loved him as I said I did, I shouldn’t ever leave him on an island to fend for himself alone. But I could support him, even if it was by providing a sounding board.
“Zegas is working to rectify the situation, but there are too many fires burning at one time. We’re surrounded.”
“Is the apartment the worst thing?”
“It appears that way, but who knows? I don’t think the federal government has simply decided to forget their pursuit of the tax evasion and securities fraud charges.” Discreetly, he pulled me closer.
I shifted so that our faces were inches apart.
Muffy softly snored from the foot of the bed.
It was so normal, I wanted to hang on to it.
“Let’s consider doomsday. What does that look like?”
“I lose most of my property because of improper title work and the authorities find a charge to stick that puts me in prison and seize the rest of my assets.”
I swallowed hard. When he put it that bluntly, the situation sounded impossible.
“We should focus on keeping you free. The rest of it, you can build back. It might take a long time, but you did it once. If that’s what you want, you can do it again.”
He pressed his head farther into his pillow. “I’m not confident I can remain out of custody. Zegas and Whitley are the best attorneys in the city, but they can’t combat bogus charges. It’s not a fair fight.”
“If they’re the best, they’ve probably been in quite a few of those.”
“I can’t understand why I’m being targeted.” He pulled back, realization on his face. “I’m audited for my taxes nearly every year.” He tapped my hip as if the wheels were slowly beginning to chug in his brain. “And I’ve been cleared or paid the adjustments every single time.”
“So the government has essentially confirmed you didn’t commit tax evasion?” I asked carefully.
He kissed my forehead as if I’d come up with the answer and rolled out of bed.
“I’d better call Zegas.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lincoln
“You’re only just now remembering you’ve been audited?”
Zegas sounded annoyed but not asleep, like he’d been up and waiting for my call.
“It’s so routine and my accountant handles the details. Shouldn’t there be some documentation in the tax returns he sent to you?” I rubbed my jaw. I didn’t want false hope, but this seemed to be a break in my favor.
The audits took months. One year I’d had a particularly large amount of transactions, it had taken over a year. Naturally they found mistakes so that I owed more. But they weren’t egregious transgressions. And I highly doubted anyone had ever been audited who didn’t end up writing a check.