Taking her hand in his, he went back to his explanation. “Maintaining that kind of lifestyle is expensive, but I didn’t want it to affect the amount of money I was sending home. Vivian and David had already proven to me they were savvy investors, so I agreed to let them manage all my money, which allowed me to focus all my energy on the business of making money.”
“Vivian and David knew about the ranch and Rachel?”
“Yes. They understood why I needed to be a
big star
.” Embarrassed by his youthful naiveté, his cheeks burned. “They even took me to a hippo-therapy ranch outside L.A. so I could see how this type of therapy could benefit Rachel. That’s when the idea took root: with the money I made, I could build a ranch Rachel could run when she got older. Vivian and David helped me develop a business plan, and six years later, when Rachel turned eighteen, the ranch opened for business.”
“Everything was going great. I was making loads of money, and with Vivian and David’s help, my money was making even more money for the ranch. My image was exactly right, and I was firmly entrenched in the industry. Then David died, the economy tanked, and Hollywood tightened its greedy fists. To be able to send the same money home to Rachel, I now have to work nonstop. I make as many movies as I can, I go to all the publicity events, and I get all the sponsors possible just to make ends meet.”
He glanced at Lauren and shook his head. “The more money I make, the more money I need to make. But whatever. I doubt that Vivian can put together ten million from my investments in five days.”
Lauren peered intently at him. “There’s something I don’t get. Why would you even want to pay the blackmail? So what if your sister runs a camp for disabled children? That’s a good thing. Not something to hide from.”
“Yeah, well. That’s the second part of what I wanted to tell you.”
Lauren squeezed his hand. He took a deep breath. “When I was in eleventh grade, my parents had to go to an important dinner for my father’s work on the same evening as Rachel’s ballet recital. They left me in charge; all I needed to do was get her to the recital on time. A bunch of my friends came over, we ordered pizza and started playing video games. When the time came to take Rachel to her recital, I was winning a game and refused to stop. I told her, ‘Give me five more minutes, then we’ll go.’”
“Sounds like you were a typical teenage boy stuck babysitting his little sister.”
He shook his head. “A half hour later, when I finally won the game, I went to get Rachel. She was huddled in the corner of her room, tears streaming down her cheeks. Feeling like the biggest shit ever, I promised her she wouldn’t be late.”
The support and compassion in Lauren’s eyes had his stomach flipping and flopping so much he thought he might puke. She moved closer and put her arm around him as if sensing what he was about to say next. He allowed the embrace but turned his head to stare out the window before continuing.
“We jumped into my mom’s old Taurus and took off. I had fifteen minutes to make a twenty-five minute drive in the rain and the dark. Two miles before reaching the auditorium, I took a turn too fast and skidded. The car hit the gravel on the shoulder of the road and flipped.”
Lauren gasped and her arms tightened around him.
“We smashed into trees lining the road. My head hit the steering wheel. I heard Rachel calling me, but it took a few moments before I could turn my head. Then I saw the blood. Drops of it splattered on the beige leather seats.” A shudder shook his body. “Big smears of it on her pink tutu, on her face, her arms, her legs…. Christ. She’d been thrown forward; her legs were crushed between the dash and her seat. Blood was
everywhere
.” He sucked in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut against the Technicolor images that had been burned in his brain thirteen years ago.
“But do you know what was worse than the blood?” When she shook her head, he continued. “Her voice. She kept saying over and over again, in a pitiful, falsely cheerful voice that everything would be okay. But I knew. Christ, how could I not? I knew everything wasn’t okay and never would be again. And sometimes, I still hear that voice saying, ‘It’s okay, Nic. Everything’s going to be all right.’” He covered his ears with both hands and leaned over until his elbows rested on his knees. “Even when I turn the music up real loud, I still hear it.”
Lowering his hands, he paused, taking several calming breaths. Lauren stroked his cheek. Taking her hand in his, he kissed her fingertips, tasting the saltiness of his own tears. “It took the fire department two hours to pry her out of the car. By that time, she’d lost a lot of blood and hypothermia had set in.” Pulling out of Lauren’s arms, he turned to face her. He had reached the moment of truth. Watching her carefully, he said the words that damned him.
“The doctors did some tests and discovered her spine had been injured. We’d hoped that once the swelling went down, she’d be okay, but she wasn’t. Rachel was only nine years old, and she’s been paralyzed ever since. She’ll never dance or run again, because of me.”
Lauren’s eyes filled with the disgust he’d feared. Nic sat frozen, unable to blink, unable to turn away.
He’d been wrong about her. Oh God, he’d been
so
wrong.
CHAPTER 18
Lauren’s eyes widened in horror at Nic’s story of two young lives irreparably damaged.
Poor Nic. Poor Rachel
.
He jerked back as if he’d been tasered and looked away. “So there you have it—the ugly truth about Nic The Lover. I ruined my sister’s life.” His tone was hard when he turned to her, eyes narrowed. “Do you still think I’m a ‘good’ guy now?”
Her gut twisted at the naked pain clouding his gaze. Were Jason to be injured like that for any reason, guilt would tear her apart. Nic had been carrying his remorse for the last thirteen years.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you, to both of you.” Lauren wrapped her arms around him and held him tight.
For several moments, he held himself stiff, but then he relaxed and hugged her back. “It still hurts so much.”
“I remember every time Jason’s been injured as if it were yesterday. But there’s something I’ve learned after eight years of being a mother: I’m not responsible for every bad thing that happens to the people I love.” She cupped his face and forced him to look at her. “And neither are you, Nic. It was a horrible, tragic accident, but an accident all the same.”
He shook his head. “No. It
was
my fault. My selfishness and stupidity cost her everything. Christ. I didn’t even think to make her to sit in the back.”
“What about your parents?”
“They were devastated. And when the bills for the hospital care and surgeries began coming in, the arguing and fighting started. I could hear them from my room, and I knew they blamed me.”
Lauren’s throat tightened in sympathy for the boy he’d been. “I’m sure they blamed themselves, not you.”
Nic leaned back against the couch and stared out the window. “My mother might have blamed herself, but my father blamed me.”
“You don’t know that.”
When Nic met her gaze, his jaw was clenched tight, but his eyes were full of regret. “I do. He told me. Every fucking day.”
She shook her head, still unable to believe what he was saying. “Could you have misunderstood?”
Nic rubbed his jaw. “He said I’d ruined everything, that I’d killed our family. And he was right. After the accident, everything started falling apart. He started drinking, and after a few months lost his job. By summer, we declared bankruptcy and moved back to Montréal. At least there we had medical coverage, and my sister could get the treatment she needed.”
“Nic,” she said gently. “He wasn’t right. It’s not your fault he started drinking. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have lost his job, and he would have kept his health insurance.”
Nic rose from the couch and started pacing. He paused in front of the window, then shook his head. “You don’t understand.” His voice was rough, raw, and Lauren’s chest ached at the sound of it. “What happened to Rachel devastated him. He drank to ease the pain, to get through each day. Every time he looked at Rachel, he cried. You have no idea how it feels to see your dad cry because of something you did. And every time he saw me, he got angry. Sometimes my mom tried to intervene, but I finally convinced her not to try. The last thing I wanted was for her to jump in and get hit.”
“He hit you?”
His back still to her, Nic shrugged. “Can you blame him? I didn’t.”
Damn right she blamed his father. “No child deserves to be abused.”
After letting out a long breath, he turned away from the window and crossed his arms. “Things didn’t get much better in Montréal. We ended up on welfare, so I quit school and got a job at a fast food joint. When I brought my first pay home, my father laughed. He told me that the pittance I made didn’t earn me more than a cot in the garage. That he didn’t want a no-good high school drop-out living in his house. That all I did was eat and shit like a dog, and that I was lucky he didn’t tie me to a post in the yard.”
Bile rose in her throat. “How could a father be so cruel?”
Nic’s eyes circled the room. “I deserved it.” Before she could respond, his gaze landed on her face. “Two years later, I found him dead in the garage. He got his revenge; I still have nightmares about it.”
Lauren recoiled in shock. “Oh, God. That’s horrible.” She reached out to him, but dropped her hand when he shot her a don’t-touch-me look.
“It tore my mother apart. She kept telling me that my father was wrong, that she didn’t blame me. But every night, she cried herself to sleep.”
“She loved you.”
“I know.” Nic rolled his shoulders and began pacing again. “But now that she’s gone too, Rachel is alone. Except for Rémi.”
“No, Nic. She still has you.” Injury or not, she was certain Rachel loved her big brother. No one in their right mind would blame him. What had happened to the Lamoureux family was tragic and sad, but it wasn’t shameful. Nic had no reason to cave in to the stalker’s demands. If done right, Nic could bring all of these secrets out into the open in a positive and effective manner that wouldn’t be career-destroying.
Nic turned and braced his forearms against the window. Lauren rose and, pressing her body against his back, began to rock him in a soothing rhythm, hoping he’d understand there was no chance she’d hate him. If nothing else, he was her friend, and he always would be. “You’re a good brother, Nic.”
Nic scowled at her over his shoulder.
“I mean it. It was an
accident
.” She took a step back when he turned, smirking. He started to say something, but she cut him off. “Okay, you used poor judgment, but what teenager doesn’t? You were young, and you made a stupid mistake.”
Nic shook his head. “You don’t understand.”
“I do understand, and you know it.” The words came out more sharply than she’d intended. Softening her tone, she continued. “I wasted years of my life feeling guilty. Talk to Rachel, tell her how you feel, and get over it. Then thank God every day that she’s still alive so you can be with her and enjoy your time together.” Her eyes filled with tears. “That’s something I’ll never have the chance to do with Todd. So don’t talk to me about guilt or remorse. I know
all
about it, and if I can move on, so can you.”
Nic closed the distance between them and cupped her cheeks tenderly. “
Chérie
,” he said, his voice soft. “I know you think this is like you and Todd. And in some ways, maybe it is. But Rachel isn’t dead. She has to live with being paralyzed every single day of her life.”
“That’s the point. Rachel isn’t dead. She’s useful and productive, and together the two of you have built something wonderful. The ranch helps other kids with spinal injuries, and through the Make-A-Wish Foundation, you make a huge difference in the lives of hundreds of seriously ill children every year. There’s honor in that. And if you doubt what I’m saying, remember the look on Claire’s face when you danced with her.”
“It’s not enough.” He dropped his hands.
“The way I see it, you accepted responsibility for your mistakes, and every day you work to make amends. Most people don’t.”
“I can try for the rest of my life, but it will never be enough. You’re just not getting it.” With rough movements, he scrubbed his face. “Because of me, my father drank himself to death, my sister is paralyzed for life, and my mother cried her way through the last ten years of her life. Because of my
stupid mistake
, as you call it, I wrecked the lives of my
entire
family. Nothing I can ever do will make up for that.”
Lauren barely stifled a groan. How could she get him to understand? “Your father blamed you, but he was wrong. Any time a parent leaves one child to care for another, they’re taking a risk. And if something goes wrong, as it did that night, they have to share the blame. Your father drank himself to death because he knew the truth. He blamed you because it was easier than admitting his own guilt.”
“Ah, Lauren, sweet Lauren.” He wrapped a curl around her ear and smiled wryly. “I guess what they say about love being blind is true. When you have time to think about all this, your feelings for me will wear off, and then you’ll see me for who I am.” He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “And you’ll leave me.”
Lauren held herself as still as she could. Oh, God. How could she tell him about New York now? He’d automatically assume he was right, that she was leaving because of this. But she couldn’t lie and say she’d never leave him, either. So she said the only thing she could say with all honesty. “You’re wrong, Nic. My feelings for you will never change.”
“I’m sure you believe that. But things are getting very dangerous. If you or Jason get hurt because of me, everything will change.”
“Did something else happen?”
“The stalker’s threats are escalating. She sent me a message with another photo to make sure I believed the blackmail letter was real.”
“Can you send it to me?” Another photo meant the possibility of more clues.