«You know what you think you saw. You know what you wanted to see.» He caught her arms, and she tried to jerk back, but he tightened his grip, giving her a little shake. «And that was always our problem, wasn't it? Hell, it's still our problem. You don't trust me. Sure, you'll give me your body, you'll come for me so often I don't know how either of us is walking straight, but you'll never believe in me. Believe in us. You may have said you loved me back then, but you've spent every second we were ever together, then and now, just waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for me to hurt you, waiting for me to leave you, waiting for us to fail. The only person you actually trusted was your yellow-bellied coward of a brother.»
«You leave Enrique out of this!» She tried to wrench herself from his grasp again, but couldn't. He was too strong, and she had to settle for glaring at him. «The man's been dead for a hundred years or more, and you still have to attack him. The only thing I ever asked you for was to not hurt him, but you denied me, said you'd kill him without a second thought. So, tell me, Jericho, exactly what did you ever do to make me trust you? We were enemies, and you made it very clear I was a sexual convenience. I'm sure you enjoyed ruining my reputation to spite my brother. It was always about you and him, wasn't it? It was never about you and me. There was no us to believe in. I was just a pawn in the game you two were playing.»
His silver eyes blazed to liquid mercury, and he shook her again, harder this time, his breath bellowing from his lungs. «You make me insane. You did then, and you do now. I couldn't keep my mind on anything but you, let alone figuring out how to dick with your brother's mind. I should have known his attack was coming, but I let myself get distracted by you.»
«So now you're blaming me for your death?» Despite herself, tears sprang into her eyes. She blinked them back and finally managed to squirm out of his grasp. Her legs felt like limp noodles, so she stumbled to the end of the bed, grabbing the footboard for support. She looked up at him, and let herself ask the questions that had nagged at her for over a century. «Why, Jericho? Why didn't you leave when I told you to? I sacrificed so much to go to you, to save you. I betrayed my country, I betrayed my only family. I died to give you the chance to live. Why didn't you run? Was it really so important to kill Enrique? Was it worth your life?»
She expected him to spout some bullshit about honor and duty and standing his ground and not being a coward, but instead he met her gaze head on. «I did run. We were outnumbered, and I knew it. I told my men to retreat, put my lieutenant in charge, and then I chased after you. They were overtaken anyway, but…I was coming for you, not to kill your brother.»
«Wh-what?» Of all the things he could have said, that stunned her the most. Jericho would never admit to abandoning his men to an inferior officer. Unless it was true. She shook her head, tried to pin down her reeling thoughts.
«But to answer your earlier question-no, I don't blame you for my death. I blame your brother, since he's the one who killed me.»
All the blood drained from her face and she clenched her fingers into the iron footboard. «No. No, he couldn't have.»
«He sure as hell could have. He did.»
«It-it had to have been an accident.» She swayed where she stood, her stomach twisting into knots. «He knew how I felt about you. He would never have done such a thing.»
Jericho snorted. «You have no idea how much I would have given for even an ounce of that trust, but the truth is what it is, darlin'. Enrique put a bullet in me. He knew it was me, and whether he knew you loved me or not, it was no accident.»
He had to be wrong. It had to be a mistake. Enrique had been devoted to her, and she'd worshipped him. She couldn't have been so wrong about him. They couldn't both have betrayed her. «Stop. P-please, stop.»
His pewter eyes flashed. «I did what you asked. I didn't go after your brother. And when he found me holding your dead body in my arms, he shot me like I was a rabid animal because I refused to give you to him.»
«Noooo.» The word was a low, keening plea. Not that. Please, God. Anything but that. Her fingers fisted in her hair, trying to block out the truth. She'd begged him, pleaded with him to leave her brother alone. Her last remaining family member, her blood. And it had cost him his life. She'd murdered the only man she'd ever loved as surely as if she'd pulled the trigger herself. Shame curled her spine, and she buried her face in her hands. «It's my fault. It's my fault. Oh, God. I failed you and it's all my fault. We died because of me.»
«No.» He wrapped his arms around her from behind, his lips nuzzling the nape of her neck. «No, Tori, it's my fault. I failed you. I should never have let you walk out of that saloon in the first place, but I was too hurt that you didn't trust me not to cheat on you, that you dared to have any doubts, that you needed an explanation. I was too stubborn to see that if I'd just reached out to you then, given you what you needed, I might have had everything I ever wanted. But I couldn't swallow my pride enough to tell you that you were everything, and I let you leave thinking you were nothing.» He crushed her to him, squeezing her so tight he compressed her ribs. Almost as if he never intended to let her go again, and a sob ripped from her throat at the thought. «It would have cost me so little, just a few words, but I was too fucking stupid to see it. So, we both died. I watched the life drain out of you, and I still never told you I loved you. I've been waiting a long, long time to say those words.»
«Jericho.» His name was a breathy sob on her lips. She didn't know what else to say, what else to do. He was right-she'd never really trusted him, not all the way, not with everything. She'd trusted her brother instead, and she'd been wrong. «If I had only-«
«No.» His soft lips brushed her shoulder. «No more of that. No more worrying about failure. No more blame. We both did things we regret. A lot of things. But we can't change the past. We can just move forward from here-and I want to move forward with you. I want a future.» He swallowed audibly, there was a hesitancy in his voice that she'd never heard before. «If-if you want me too.»
«I…I…» Her mind spun in circles, far too much information jockeying for supremacy in her mind. Jericho had come after her that night. He'd cared. Tears slid down her face as deep sobs wrenched out of her. He rocked her in his arms, crooning soft comfort to her, just…holding her. Somewhere in that dark and ugly storm of guilt and realization, some fragile fragment of joy began to surface. Her soul mate hadn't betrayed her; he'd loved her. He still loved her, and he was here, now, with her. They had a second chance, if only she dared to reach out and take it, if only she was willing to trust it.
Trust. It had always come down to trust, just like he'd said. Trust, and her fear of failure. Pain cinched around her heart at all the time they'd lost, at the life they'd lost. In their own ways, they'd both been unable to truly believe in their love enough to reach out, to make that final step, and it had cost them. But they didn't have to repeat those mistakes. They'd both learned, both grown in the time they'd been separated.
«I love you, Vitoria.» He turned her to face him, his silver gaze open and more vulnerable than she'd ever imagined possible. He didn't hold back, everything he felt was there for her to see. His big hand smoothed her hair back. «My Tori. I love you. I always have. I always will. There was never anyone else. I would never betray you. I love you. If you don't believe anything else I ever say, believe that.»
«I believe you,» she whispered, tears still slipping down her cheeks. «I love you too.»
His beautiful eyes closed, and the skin drew taut across his sharp cheekbones. «Say it again.»