Safe at Last (Slow Burn #3)

“What kind of people do you work for?” she asked, fear sparking in her eyes.

“The best, Gracie. The absolute best. Eliza works with me.” He nodded in Eliza’s direction. “I work for Devereaux Security Services. We protect people. Provide security. Any job that requires muscle and high technology.”

“Ironic,” she bit out, her eyes flashing with fire for the first time.

Well, he’d take anything over the fear and utter desolation that had seemed a permanent fixture in her soulful brown eyes.

She lifted her chin a notch higher, and she stared directly at him.

“Is this your penance?” she asked softly.

He swore violently, barely able to keep the blistering epitaphs from erupting off his tongue. He breathed in through his nostrils for a few moments as he sought to keep his temper in check.

He’d never been angry with Gracie. Never had a reason to. He wasn’t sure he had a reason now but the anger was there all the same.

“Tell me what the hell it is I supposedly did,” he demanded. “It’s kind of hard to defend an action when you have no clue what it is!”

“Are you for real?” she asked incredulously.

Eliza leaned forward, interrupting the tense exchange. She squeezed Gracie’s hand in a gesture of reassurance but Gracie appeared to be as angry as he was. Again, he’d take that over defeat and sorrow any damn day of the week.

“Gracie, in order to atone for one’s sins, one has to know what sin has been committed,” Eliza said quietly. “You and Zack obviously have very differing accounts of what happened twelve years ago. Talk to him. Tell him why you’re angry. If nothing else, tell him to go to hell, but at least give him the opportunity to defend himself. Surely he deserves that much.”

“Deserves?”

Gracie’s voice cracked under the weight of emotion and tears rapidly filled her eyes once more.

“He deserves. God, that is so . . . I don’t even have words!” Gracie said tearfully. “I sure as hell didn’t deserve what he did to me—what he had done. I can’t even think about that night or I get sick to my stomach.”

As if to drive home her point, she gestured wildly for the basin, which Eliza promptly shoved onto her tray, just as Gracie heaved the contents of her stomach inside it.





THIRTEEN


ONCE again, Zack had been forced from Gracie’s room while the nurse did an assessment and made her more comfortable. Eliza stood next to him, watching the goings-on through the narrow glass panel above the knob.

She shook her head, her eyes awash with sympathy. “I don’t know what to say right now,” she murmured. “I can’t even imagine. I’m so sorry, Zack. This has to be hell for you.”

“Evidently it’s hell for her too,” Zack said bleakly.

He rubbed his face tiredly, lack of sleep fast catching up to him. Maybe he’d never sleep again. How could he when whenever he closed his eyes, all he could see was terror blazing in hers. The shadows under her eyes. How utterly fragile and breakable she appeared.

Breakable.

No, that wasn’t accurate. She was already broken. Anyone with eyes could see that.

God, it scared him to death to see her in such a state. What the hell had happened twelve years ago? He was getting damn tired of the issue being dodged and Gracie’s refusal to let him in on the big goddamn secret. Especially when he seemed to be the only person who didn’t know what the fuck was going on.

“I wonder if you shouldn’t have a psychologist brought in,” she said in a low voice, ensuring it didn’t carry through the door. “She looks so . . . fragile.”

“I’ve used the exact same word to describe her more than once since seeing her in the art studio.”

“It’s evident she truly is frightened. Whatever it is she thinks you did is very real to her.”

“Tell me about it,” he muttered. Then he cupped the back of his neck and dug his fingers into the aching muscle. “Can you do some looking? You know where I’m from. Where we’re from. Can you go back twelve years or around that time, before and after the last time I saw her, and see if anything pops up? Something major? If it happened in our pissant little town then you can be sure it was all over the bloody place.”

“I can try, though I did a fair bit more poking around after you left my apartment this morning. And so far, I’m hitting a brick wall.”

Which is exactly how he felt, only in his case, it felt as though he were beating his head repeatedly against that wall. And he was starting to feel the ache all the way to his soul.

“Oh, here she comes now,” Eliza said, hastily moving back from the doorway.

Zack surged to attention, scraping at the bristle of his unshaven face. He needed to get cleaned up. He looked—and smelled—like a goat. He was surprised the nursing staff hadn’t thrown him out or at least into a nearby shower.

The nurse quietly closed the door behind her as she stepped into the hall to join Eliza and Zack.