Free Secrets by Erosa Knowles Page A

me his “gypsy
baby.” He said if I weren’t so pretty, so innocent-looking, he
would leave me, a…alone.” She burrowed deeper into his chest,
staining it with the tears of her tortured confession.
    Hot rage streamed through him. Killing that
bastard quick would be a kindness he’d never permit if he ever got
his hands on the asshole. “That, that pervert,” he said through
clenched teeth, “would’ve said anything to justify what he knew was
wrong. You are beautiful, but that doesn’t give anyone the right to
take anything from you. He was wrong, Chas.” He kissed the top of
her head. “You were five-years-old, good and pure. Nothing that
happened during that time was your fault.” Her pain choked him.
Feverishly he tried to think what to say to ease her hurt and
misery. His uncle’s DVD had ripped off the band-aid from her
childhood suffering. Now her raw sores were bleeding all over
again, staining his soul.
    “I cut my hair.” Her voice sounded tiny,
uncertain and eerily childlike.
    “Huh?” He placed another kiss on the soft
spiral curls.
    “He said he loved my hair and played in it
all the time. They’d wash and comb it just before he would come to
see me. That’s how I knew he'd do it again. I hated it. I hated my
hair. I cut it real short and they…they beat me.” He stroked her
hair, her back, any place he could give comfort.
    “It didn’t stop him.” She sniffed. “He said
his sister had died and left him. He needed me to stop him from
missing her. I think she and I were the same age.”
    Kenton closed his eyes. A shudder of anger
wracked his frame. The man was an incestuous monster who’d had sex
with his younger sister. No wonder his uncle had been afraid. No
public official would ever permit this type of secret to go public.
It’d destroy them. He held her tighter. “It’s okay, he can’t get to
you anymore. He’s as good as dead.” If not by his uncle’s plans,
then he’d take out the bastard himself. He clenched and unclenched
his wounded arm ready to make the shot.
    Violently, she shook her head. “No, no he’s
not dead. He’s not.” Tormented eyes searched his face. “Promise me
they won’t get my kids.” She grabbed his wet shirt. “Promise
me.”
    “I promise on my life, no one will get our
kids.” He stared, waiting for his words to penetrate. Her nostrils
flared. She released his shirt and pushed him away. Slowly, he
stood. Watching as she pulled herself together, applied her mask of
indifference, and slid on the tough veneer that she wore to hide
her secrets. Too late, he’d seen the soft, vulnerable woman beneath
the wall and he’d never forget.
    “Sven?” She looked around for the older
man.
    “He left.” He stepped back. “Why? Why didn’t
you tell me?” That had puzzled him ever since his uncle dropped the
bomb.
    Cold eyes swung to face him. “I did when you
called to check up on me after my eighteenth birthday.” She paused,
placed one hand on her hip and a fingertip on her chin. Tilting her
face, she looked heavenward. “Oh, that’s right. You never called or
came back, did you?”
    Oh yeah, her tough sarcastic cover was back
in place. No problem, he’d been dealing with this Chastity
for years. He crossed his arms and tilted his head. “No doubt, that
was an asshole move and I apologize, but I came back four years ago
and you never mentioned anything.”
    Her facial features sharpened, thinning her
full lips to half their size. “Apologize?” she snorted. “Keep it.
You came here that night broken, on the verge of collapse,
distraught over your fiancé being pregnant by some other man. You
were barely coherent and could hardly stand. What was I supposed to
say? Oh, forget about her kid, you have two of your own?”
Her face twisted in disgust. “I don’t think so. You did what men
always do. Leave. Carry on with your own selfish plans. You didn’t
think twice about what we did that night. You got your rocks off,
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