Heart's Reflection by P R Mason Read Free Book Online

you?"
    Keagan stared down
into his lap.
    The longer the
time between my question and an answer, the more uncomfortable I became.
Obviously, the topic hurt him. "You don't have to—" I started.
    "They hate
me," he blurted out. "They hate me because...I killed my
sister."
    "What?
No," I objected. Keagan might have done a lot of bad things but they'd
been in the category of naughty. I knew he couldn't be so evil. "I don't
believe you did any such thing."
    "It's
true."
    "Prove it to
me. What happened?" I demanded.
    "My mother
was six months pregnant..." He struggled out the words and choked on the
last one.
    I touched his hand
now, tangling my fingers with his until he could continue.
    "The baby was
a girl. They knew because of one of those ultrasound tests." The words
were tumbling out now so fast they were like a runaway train. "One day I
left a toy truck on the stairs and mom fell over it. She went into premature
labor and the baby died."
    The train crashed
and left silence.
    "How old were
you?" I asked after a few moments. "You must've been young."
    "Four,"
he said.
    "What? Then
it definitely wasn't your fault." I squeezed his hand.
    "Yes it was.
They'd told me before to pick up my toys and I didn't do it."
    "No." I
reached up with my other hand to cup his face with my palm. Staring into his
eyes, I tried to convince him. The blanket fell away with my movement and I
didn't care. "Anyway, how do you know it wasn't Liam who left the truck?
He was four too. I bet you two shared the toys."
    "I never
thought...They just always said it was me."
    "Kids that
young leave stuff around the house. You weren't to blame and neither was Liam.
It was just an accident. You shouldn't blame yourself for that."
    "Well you
blame yourself for your parents. I've heard you say so. But you never say
why."
    My hand dropped
from his face. "That's different. I just...I just..." I tried to turn
away from him but Keagan took me by the shoulders.
    "What?"
he asked.
    "I should
have kept them from going out the night of the accident and I didn't," I
finally admitted.
    "You're more
ridiculous than me." He gave me a little shake. "How could you know
something would happen that night?"
    "What if I
did know?"
    "You mean
like a premonition?" With a touch to my chin, he brought my face around
and our eyes met. "That's not possible."
    "But assume I
did have a vision. Assume I saw what was going to happen."
    "You still
wouldn't be to blame. You were a kid. What were you? Five? You couldn't stop
them."
    I tried to look
down but the lock he had on my eyes wouldn't let go.
    "I'm not
buying that you were to blame," he whispered. "You're too
compassionate and loving. You would never let someone you loved get hurt if you
could stop it."
    "I told them.
But they didn't believe me. Then the accident happened."
    "See. I was
right," he said. "You told them about your vision. You did what you
could. You were too young."
    "A year older
than you when your mom had her accident."
    He seemed to
consider this for a few seconds as the ocean lapped one, two, three, four times
against the shore.
    "We were both
too young to be to blame," he finally pronounced. Keagan took my face
between his palms and planted a light kiss on my lips. That kiss was like an
absolution. A kiss that was a balm that seemed to, if not heal, at least start
a scab over the wound of my guilt.
    "Neither of
us has anything to feel guilty about," he insisted. "I won't feel
guilty any more if you won't. Agreed?"
    "Agreed,"
I replied.
    He smiled and then
leaned in for another quick kiss. But this time when our lips touched, mine
moved under his. Instead of pulling quickly away as before, his lips lingered,
soft and tentative. Leaning up and forward, I moved onto his lap. His arms
wrapped around me, clutching me to him as I deepened the kiss, putting my own
arms around his neck. One hand went to his nape while the other sifted through
his hair. Then our mouths were moving, each on the others', searching and
devouring.