Free Forsaken by Sarah Ballance

loneliness, hadn’t stopped to consider how it could have been different.
    “I was angry, Gage. I blamed you because you were driving, but I knew it was an accident. I heard them at the scene. I heard them say you must have been drunk. Everyone just stood around shaking their heads, saying how you had finally gone and killed someone.”
    “I remember,” he said. “And you believed in me.”
    She looked at him, tears threatening. “You promised me you were done.”
    He shook his head and stared at the far corner of the room. “No one ever bothered to believe my promises before.”
    The sorrow in his voice hurt her more than anything had in a long time. “I loved you. Of course I believed you.”
    His gazed returned to her face, something dark and terrible lurking just below the surface. “I don’t think they cared I wasn’t drunk. By the time they did the BAC and didn’t find a drop of alcohol in my system, they figured it had been too long. In fact, your buddy Dawson figured it to my face, the smug little bastard. He said all he needed was one witness to me drinking that day and I’d spend the rest of my life in jail. I didn’t need to look twice at my reputation to believe him. But I didn’t spend a minute behind bars, Riley. I’ve always wondered about that.”
    Riley fumbled with the blanket, rolling the thin material between her fingers. “I guess he never found his one witness.”
    Gage looked at her with an intensity that suggested he had his own opinion about that situation.
    He’d just have to have it. She wasn’t ready to talk about Dawson.
    She straightened. “Anyway, to answer your question, Colt came out of his coma about a month after the accident. As soon as he found out I ‘took your side’ as he put it, he demanded I leave.”
    Gage raised a brow.
    “I didn’t believe he meant it. I thought he just needed to cool off, but he got agitated enough to set off the machines—the ones monitoring his vitals—so I left the room to give us both some time. When I came back, the nurses stopped me. Said if I went any further, they’d call security.”
    After a long moment, Gage spoke. “So that was that? You haven’t talked to him since? No communication?”
    She snorted. “He couldn’t exactly pick up the phone or write a letter—”
    “So you let it go? What if he wants to reconcile?”
    “He doesn’t.” And the hurt hadn’t faded. She called the rehab facility every week for an update on Colt, to ask if he’d shown any improvement. Every week she asked if he would be willing to see her. Every week the news was the same: no on both counts.
    “Okay,” Gage said, his voice softer. “What about the bill? How is that taken care of?”
    “Life insurance. I mail them a check each month.” And I don’t know what I’ll do when the money runs out. “He really doesn’t want anything to do with me. There’s nothing—”
    She stopped talking when Gage left the doorway and settled next to her on the bed. “I am so sorry you lost him. If I could change anything….” He stared deep into her eyes, his own dark and pained. “I’d change it all, you know I would.”
    She opened her mouth to say it was okay, but was it? Would she ever feel whole again? But she didn’t get a chance to say a word. A booming knock echoed through the Spartan room, Maverick’s voice on its heels.
    “Gage,” he said. “Get out here. Now.”
    As much as Gage cherished hearing Riley say she loved him, the past tense of her declaration bothered him—to the point of distraction, a tidbit he discovered when he ran over Maverick in the hall.
    “Dammit, Gage.” Maverick bounced off a closed door, glaring.
    “Sorry.” Gage retreated a step and waited while Maverick punched in his security code. Then Gage followed Maverick into the basement, a sprawling room where he kept his “spy gear” as Gage called the equipment. Although Maverick’s primary business was body guarding, intelligence was a big part of