Chapter Twenty
She left early the next morning without telling anyone good-bye. Perhaps it was cowardly of her, but she hadn’t the strength to say farewell. Her little car chugged its way down the road, and she refused to look in the rearview mirror.
She headed south, having picked Baton Rouge as her destination. She didn’t want to go back to Los Angeles, back to a city that held so many bad memories. She wanted to start over, to be someone new. Someone who could be happy.
Lincoln Hart had been true to his word and had made sure that a thousand dollars had ended up in her bank account. She used the money frugally, setting herself up in a small apartment. She found a job as an aerobics instructor at a local gym. And when the papers came in the mail from Mr. Grand, Heather had no trouble signing everything over to Tristan. It was the only thing she could give him to acknowledge how much he meant to her. And as soon as she signed her name, the band around her heart eased. Life flowed back into her, and the pain of losing him lessened just a tiny bit.
****
It didn’t really surprise her to see Tristan’s truck at her apartment complex several days later. She’d figured it was only a matter of time until he came to confront her. She didn’t say a word as she walked to the door, Tristan following on her heels.
As soon as he came inside, he halted and glanced around at the empty apartment. She could imagine what he was thinking. The only money she had spent was to buy a secondhand mattress, some sheets from the thrift center, and a wobbly barstool so she could sit at the counter when she ate. But she didn’t mind the starkness. It made her feel clean and humble.
When she turned the dead bolt on the door, he spun to face her.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Tristan demanded as he held up the papers.
“I thought that was obvious. I’m giving you the ranch.”
“Why? You inherited it.”
“The old man was right. You love that land, Tristan, it should have been yours.”
“Heather, I don’t understand. I can help you work the ranch, to run it correctly. Come back home.”
“I can’t. Don’t you understand? Leaving it behind is the only atonement I can give for my sin.”
“What sin? Being raped isn’t a sin, Heather!”
“I’m not talking about the rape, Tristan. I’m talking about the consequences.”
“Consequences?” And then she saw it dawn on him. He blinked. “You got pregnant.”
Heather nodded. “My father blamed me, my mother tried to defend me, and I thought if I had an abortion, it would make my father stay. But he didn’t, so I murdered my child for nothing.”
She could see the news staggered him.
“Oh my God, Heather.”
“How can I possibly find happiness, Tristan, when I’m such a horrible person?”
He immediately reached out and pulled her into his arms. “If you were a horrible person, Heather, you wouldn’t be suffering over twenty years later from a mistake made through the eyes of a child. And that’s what you were, an innocent child that needed protecting. And instead everyone abandoned you.”
“Like I said, the only atonement I can give is through you, Tristan.”
He pulled back to look down at her. His brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”
She sighed and gave him a small smile. “When I signed those papers, I felt a burden lift from my soul because for the first time, I did the right thing. I’ve hated myself for so long that I didn’t even recognize when I stopped, but I understand it all now. I get it.”
He brushed back the hair off her cheek. “What do you get?”
“The bitterness was a poison. And you and the ranch were the antidote. I think the old man knew it, that’s why he invited me there.”
Silence descended over them. She stared at him, and he at her.
“Don’t leave me, Heather.”
Her breath hitched in her throat. “What?”
“I meant what I said. I love you. I’m not running from that. I refuse to let you run from it, either.”
“How can you love me?” The words came out in a broken cry, and it stunned her a little to realize that question had been burning inside for a long, long time. “I was a bitch to you.”
“Because I remember a little girl who once asked me who saves the clown, and the answer is you. I’ve waited years for you, and you’re more beautiful, more courageous, and stronger than any person I know. How could I not love you?”
Tears overflowed, cascading down her face without shame. Heather threw her arms around his neck, and their mouths met in fierce need. He cradled her face with his hands, deepening the kiss, turning it from tender to scorching in seconds. Their tongues met, dueled, meshed.
He bent and lifted her up in his arms, carrying her into the tiny bedroom and settling her on the mattress that was on the floor. Clothes disappeared in moments, moved aside in quick motions to bring skin together.
They teased, they touched, the fire igniting white-hot. Heather let her legs fall open, and immediately Tristan surged in. Both moaned, and Heather pushed up to meet his thrust. Their mouths met again, kissing, licking, as they moved.
He held her hips as he penetrated deep, in and out, over and over.
“This is so fucking right, Heather,” he whispered, slipping a hand between their bodies to rub against her clit. His forehead rested on her shoulder. “We’re so right together.”
“Tristan!” she cried out in pleasure. “Harder! Please!”
Obeying, he used his free hand to lever himself up, making his cock sink even farther. He pulled out and then plunged back in, ramming hard into her tight sheath. Sweat slicked off him onto her body, lubricating their skin. She licked off the salty moisture from his arm, his chest, giving as good as she got. She felt an orgasm rising, singing through her body, and she didn’t hold it back. It crashed over her, stars bursting behind her closed eyes.
Panting, she didn’t protest when Tristan pulled out and flipped her over, pulling her up on her knees. She propped herself on her elbows, then looked over her shoulder as he positioned himself behind her.
He plunged in, drilling down deep, using her hips as leverage to ram inside her, in and out, again and again. Heather pushed against him, meeting every thrust, his testicles slapping against her ass. She stretched out her knees further, causing her to bend lower, giving him a better angle and allowing her to reach underneath. As he pushed in and out, she gave his sac a gentle tug.
Tristan went wild, moaning her name over and over until his crest hit. Unexpectedly, another orgasm swept through her as she felt his cock jerking inside her. They collapsed in a heap, hearts pounding, breathing like they’d just run a marathon.
“I love you,” he whispered.
This time, she embraced the words.