Safe at Last (Slow Burn #3)

“Uh . . . Caleb and I will just wait outside,” Beau said.

The entire room was weighed down by edginess, fear, even full scale panic. It was thick, it was nearly a tangible taste in Zack’s mouth. He should know, because he’d tasted fear more times than he could count since losing Gracie so long ago.

“Who are you?” Gracie asked hoarsely.

It seemed she’d been having an argument with herself as to which of the Devereaux brothers to speak to. And since it was obvious she had no intention of addressing Zack, she was likely deciding which Devereaux posed the least threat to her. Not that either brother ever looked remotely harmless. But since she was looking directly at Beau and hadn’t even acknowledged Caleb, it was obvious it was Beau she was asking the question of and Beau she’d decided posed the least threat of the remaining two men.

Zack couldn’t blame her for choosing Beau over Caleb. Beau could be intimidating but he did have a sense of humor and he was always cognizant of how his actions, words and demeanor often made the difference in gaining a client’s trust. Caleb, on the other hand, even on his best day, was intense and brooding-looking. He rarely smiled except when he was with Ramie or Tori Devereaux, the youngest of all the Devereaux siblings and the only sister to boot.

But then everyone was careful to shield the still very fragile and vulnerable Tori so she never feared the very people who loved her the most and protected her with their lives. At present, she lived with Caleb and Ramie, and from what little exposure he’d had with Tori, he doubted her living arrangements would change in the short term. According to Beau, Tori had made progress and was valiantly trying to do it on her own without her older brothers’—and now her two sisters-in-law’s—help. Unfortunately for Tori, she possessed three of the most over protective older brothers a girl ever had. Some brothers threaten someone—usually a guy—when it comes to their baby sister. But Tori’s older brothers wouldn’t make threats. Threats are a waste of time and only useful to cowards who have no intention of ever trying to back up their threats.

Beau looked startled by Gracie’s question, and for a moment, so too had Zack not registered it because his thoughts and focus weren’t where they should have been. Here. With Gracie.

Despite his initial reaction to Gracie directly addressing him, his expression eased into a reassuring smile and he stepped to the foot of the bed so Gracie could better see him. When he spoke, it was with gentle, soothing tones.

“I’m Beau Devereaux, ma’am. I work with Zack. I run a security company with my brother, Caleb. I don’t want you to worry any longer. We’re going to put one hundred percent of our time and effort into ensuring your safety and into finding the bastards who did this to you. I swear it on my life.”

She looked confused by Beau’s passionate statement. Her eyes flickered and then she turned them toward Zack. She seemed puzzled, as if she were trying to make sense of it all.

“But who’s going to keep me safe from him?” she whispered, staring directly at Zack.





ELEVEN


“WHAT are you going to do, man?” Beau asked in a hushed voice.

Zack ran his hand through his hair in a ragged, agitated motion.

The two men stood just outside the open door of the room Gracie had been moved to. Zack was leaning against the wall, exhaustion from two sleepless nights catching up quickly.

After Gracie had dropped her bomb of a question, one that Beau had been speechless to respond to, she’d drifted off under the influence of the meds and an hour later she’d been moved to a private room on the sixth floor.

“I don’t fucking know,” Zack said. “What the hell am I supposed to do? She hates my guts. She’s terrified of me. And I don’t know why. She keeps mentioning this ‘horrible’ thing I did. Said it was unforgivable.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, ouch. This runs deep, Beau. She had the same reaction at the gallery and the art studio. No way of faking that much fear. But Jesus, why? I don’t get it. I loved her, man. She was it for me. You know, the trite cliché that so many men, especially men like us, cringe over and roll their eyes? Not me. She was The One for me. And God help me but there will be no other woman for me.”

“I had our entire future planned. House, wife, kids. The American dream. I’d play pro ball for ten years if I were lucky. Bank the money and then retire and spend my time spoiling my wife and children rotten. Have a mini football team of our own if we were so blessed. She was on board. She said she loved me, and she did. No one is that good an actress. And she sure as hell wasn’t using me. If that were the case she would have stayed and milked me for every dime. No, she cut out before I even made the pros. I came home one day and she had vanished, leaving me to think the absolute worst.”