The pain in his chest was so profound, he thought he was having a heart attack. The horror on her face sliced through him like a rusty blade ripping out his soul. In reality, his heart had broken.

Samantha squirmed from his grip. “Tell me what they said is a lie.”

Dalton ran his hand through his hair, gripping and pulling until his they dropped to his side. “It’s not what it seems.” He moved toward her. She shuffled back until she hit the wall. Trapped, her eyes grew large, her face pale. She reminded him of an animal caught in a cage.

It gutted him to know she feared him when he’d never do anything to harm her. He loved her. Almost told her last night. Now he wished he would have because she’d never know the truth.

The one thing he’d always tried to be was the hero, and not the villain. He’d promised himself that his actions would never cause a woman to shake from terror, but Samantha was quaking like a leaf caught in a violent storm.

She slid down the wall like her bones had softened and could no longer hold her up. “Did you kill someone or not?” She didn’t ask for details, just the facts.

“Yes.”

“You need to leave.” She scrambled back into the corner and curled into a ball.

“Please, Samantha, you have to listen to the facts.”

“I need space,” she yelled. “I need a minute to think.”

“Dammit, would you listen to me?” He didn’t mean to yell, but she had to give him a chance to explain.

“You know what my past is. You know I came from an abusive background. A man with a violent past is a deal breaker.”

“I’m not that man.” He dropped to his knees, feet from her, palms up so she wouldn’t feel threatened. “I’ve never hit a woman. I lived in that environment too. I’m not my father. I’m not your father.”

“How can you say that? You killed someone. They said a convicted killer.”

He couldn’t argue with her words or logic.

“Let me explain,” he pleaded again.

She looked up at him with her soulful eyes, and all he saw was hurt and distrust.

“Now that it’s out in the open, you want to explain? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We both kept truths from each other. Why are your omissions okay and mine aren’t?”

The look of hurt fell away and was replaced by anger. He’d rather have her furious than afraid any day.

“You’re right. We did. Let’s say them out loud. I’m a pop star. You’re a killer. How are those equal?” She laid her head on her knees. “Oh my God, the press will have a field day.”

“Screw the press. This has nothing to do with them.”

“Have you not heard a word I said? I’m a public figure.”

He wanted to laugh at the hypocrisy of it all. “Until last night, you were in hiding. Why is that?”

“Because of stuff like this. I can’t have a life.”

He inched his way forward. “We had a good life until this morning. I’m not any different from the man who made love to you last night. It was love Samantha. Don’t think for a second that you don’t own my heart. That you haven’t impacted me.”

“This changes everything.”

His shoulders sagged, and his arms dropped lifelessly next to his body. “It changes nothing.”

When she chewed her lip for a minute, he knew there was still a chance. He only hoped she’d let him back in.

“Would you have pursued me if you’d known I was famous?”

Would he have? He wanted to be honest with her. “I would have fought my attraction to you because what happened out there is everything I don’t want. I like my privacy. I like being invisible.”

She laughed. Not the laugh that comes from a joke, but the laugh spurred on by disbelief. “Dalton, you’re lying to yourself if you think you’ve ever been invisible.”

“Well, it looks like we’ve both been lying to ourselves and to each other.” He risked inching forward. If he saw any apprehension or fear in her body language, he’d move back, but he saw none.

“I lie to myself all the time.” Her voice became whisper soft. “I tell myself that I love what I do. I tell myself that I can make it another year. I tell myself that I’ll be fine.” She burst into tears. “I’m not fine.”

He couldn’t stand the distance any longer. He moved closer and pulled her into his lap.

She curled into him. Maybe her grief was greater than her fear, but he loved how she clung to his body.

“Tell me more.” He figured if he could get her talking, then maybe when she was finished, she’d be willing to listen.

“I love it here. For the first time in my life, I felt like I fit.”

“Sweetheart, you fit.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“It seems like I’ve been on the road for a decade. I’m tired, Dalton. I’m tired of being Indigo.”

“Indigo isn’t here; Samantha is, and she has a heart of gold. She’s kind and forgiving. Last night, she let a stalker go free because she said everyone deserves a second chance.” He lifted her chin so she had to look at him. “I’m part of everyone.” He pulled her tight against his chest. “Give me a second chance.”

She cried until his shirt was wet. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Tell me your story.”

He lifted her up and carried her to the couch. “I’ll make some tea. Stay put.” She nodded and tucked her tiny body into the corner. He pulled the soft throw she had folded over the arm and covered her.

While he was in the kitchen, he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed the sheriff. “We’ve got a situation at Samantha’s. We need to circle the wagons.”

With two cups of tea ready, he returned. It crushed him to see her eyes red and swollen. He promised himself he’d stop at nothing to put a smile back on her face.

They sat in silence for minutes while he built up the courage to talk about a time he wished he could forget.

“Six years ago, I was in Denver at a bar called The Empty Keg. It’s a dive bar, but it was close to school. On Fridays and Saturdays, the alcohol was cheap. I was playing pool with my buddies when I saw some guy grab a woman by the arm and drag her outside. They had been arguing off and on all night. He had been harassing her for attention. She ignored him. He didn’t like the word no.”

Dalton closed his eyes and relived the moment that changed his life.

“No one did anything. Everyone saw what was going on. It was obvious they weren’t a couple. He’d been trying to pick her up all night, without luck.” He opened his eyes and looked at Samantha, whose face was unreadable. “She fought him all the way out the door. She begged and pleaded for him to let her go. It was like listening to my mother when my father pulled her by her hair across the yard. I couldn’t stand by and watch. I rushed out to help. By the time I got to her, he’d already punched her once. Told her she asked for it.” He shook his head. “No woman asks for it.” He set his tea down and tucked his fists under his legs. The replay always upset him. No matter how hard he tried, he could never come up with a different ending. “As the asshole wound up for another hit, I stepped in. He turned around and swung at me, connecting with my stomach. I hit him once. He never got back up.”

When he looked at Samantha, fresh tears were running down her cheeks. Through a shaky voice, she asked, “You only hit him once?”

“That’s all it took. Those six seconds got me six years in prison.”

She set her cup down and pulled him close. It was time for her to comfort him. He was grateful for the gesture. She tugged and pulled at him until his head was in her lap.

“It sounds like self-defense.” She ran her hand through his hair.

“That’s what my lawyer pled, but a man was dead. There were lots of witnesses saying I hit him. No one saw him hit me.”

“What about the girl?”

“She testified. It’s probably why I got the minimum sentence.” He remembered the judge’s words verbatim. “A ‘heat-of-passion’ crime provoked by something that caused an ordinary person to become angry and act irrationally by killing someone.” He let out a shaky breath and rubbed his head into her lap like a puppy craving attention.

“You gave me hints.” She stroked his cheek with affection. “I’m so sorry I didn’t listen.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. I thought about it, but everyone told me I shouldn’t come out of the gate with ‘I’m an ex-felon.’”

Despite the sorrow, she giggled. “That was probably wise counsel.”

“We’re both guilty of wanting someone to see us for who we are, and not who society has made us out to be.”

“Where do we go from here?” she asked.

To bed, Dalton’s inner voice screamed. If only they could go back an hour, he’d make love to her again and ignore the knock at the door. Despite the turn of events, he was relieved that the truth was finally out. Brutal as it was, he was still here with her. She wasn’t shaking with fear but touching him with compassion.

This next part was going to kill him, but he knew it needed to be done. She came to Aspen Cove for clarity. She’d never get it if he was around. Their relationship was anything but clear. All he knew was that he wanted her, but he wouldn’t keep her if it wasn’t in her best interests.

She had a reputation to uphold. Last night when he’d looked up her music, he read more than once that she was America’s sweetheart. The reporter’s voice echoed in his head. “Indigo! How do you think your fans will respond to your relationship with Dalton Black, a convicted killer?” Samantha might be willing to forgive, but the press would never forget. He didn’t want that for her. He didn’t want it for himself.

He rolled to a sitting position. His body glued to her side. “You came here to get your thoughts straight. You wanted to find yourself. You won’t be able to do that with all this noise around you.” Her look of defeat told him he was right.

“I called the sheriff. He should get rid of the crowd.”

“Thank you.” She leaned her head on his chest and sighed.

“I’m going to leave you.”

Her hands gripped his shirt like he was a lifeline. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone, but I know if I’m here, my presence won’t give you the space you need to think and make sound decisions.”

Her voice cracked with emotion. “I know you’re right, but I hate it.”

“I know I’m right, and for what it’s worth, I hate it too. But I’ll do it because I … care.”

He saw the words he wanted to say on her lips, She had fallen in love with him too, but he couldn’t say them, or let her say them. If he heard the words or said them and couldn’t have her, it would crush him. Instead, he pressed his lips softly to hers before he rose from the couch and went into the bedroom for his shoes.

When he came back, she was still sitting in the corner of the couch, staring into space.

“You’re really leaving me?” Her wavering voice tugged at his heart.

“Not for good. Just for now.” He pulled a smile from deep inside himself. “I’m free-birding you, baby.”

She cocked her head. “You’re what?”

“I’m letting you go. If you come back, I know it was meant to be.” He pulled on his boots and put on his coat. “I texted the girls and told them you needed support.”

She nodded. When he opened the front door, he saw that the press had been pushed back to the street. Sheriff Cooper walked toward him.

“You okay?”

“Not really.” Dalton looked beyond him to where the reporters pulled long lenses from their bags.

“I can keep them off her property, not off the street. I’ll send Mark over to keep an eye on things until it all settles down.” He adjusted his hat and looked at the ground. “I looked her up. She’s a big deal.”

“She’s everything.”