Safe at Last (Slow Burn #3)

“Wade, you know what happened,” she said. “How can you even suggest that I listen to anything he has to say? There is no excuse, no apology, no forgiveness for what he did. Do you have any idea how terrified I am to be trapped somewhere—anywhere—with him?”


She was shaking violently. Her skin felt damp and clammy and she recognized the signs of an impending anxiety attack. She could feel her heart beating frantically in her chest, could feel her chest constricting, her throat closing off her airway.

She tried to suck in a steadying breath, tried to make the horrible panic go away. She hadn’t suffered extreme panic attacks for eight years now. It had taken four years after the traumatic event to manage the attacks and learn to stave them off.

Wade cursed and then leaned forward, framing her face in his hands.

“Look at me, Anna-Grace,” he commanded harshly.

Responding to the authority in his tone, she focused her stare on him, locking on to his features.

“You have to calm down. You’re breathing far too fast. Look at me and breathe with me.”

He went silent and in an exaggerated manner he noisily breathed in through his nose, held it a moment and then breathed out through his mouth. His thumb caressed her cheekbone and then he slipped one arm behind her, leaving one hand cupped to her cheek. He rubbed up and down her spine, spreading warmth and comfort with his hand.

“Try to relax,” he murmured in a gentler tone. “You’re way too tense. It’s only going to make the pain from your bruises worse.”

Her eyes filled with tears and she closed them, hating her weakness, hating that she couldn’t control her wayward emotions. After so long living in a vacuum, after so many years of refusing to feel anything at all and living each day robotically, on autopilot and refusing to get close to anyone until Wade, it was as if the ice had cracked and was rapidly falling away, allowing pain and grief to consume her all over again.

And now, once again, she felt the sting of betrayal. Once more, someone she trusted was abandoning her. What was wrong with her that this kept happening?

“Honey, don’t look at me like that,” Wade said, his eyes sorrowful.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered. “Why would you refuse to help me? Why would you encourage me to listen to anything he has to say?”

She could feel the reins of control slipping away. Grief consumed her at the loss of someone she trusted. Again. She closed her eyes as tears continued to trickle down her cheeks.

“You’re breaking my heart, Anna-Grace. I’m not abandoning you. I swear. I want you safe, and Zack can keep you safe. If I thought for one minute that he would hurt you in any way, I’d never allow him anywhere near you. Do you understand that?”

He tipped her chin upward, forcing her gaze to meet his.

“Look at me, Anna-Grace. Do you really understand that? Are you really hearing what I’m saying to you?”

The gravity of his tone gave her pause and her eyes narrowed with confusion.

“There are things you must discuss with Zack, Anna-Grace. Things that are eating you alive. You’ve pushed them away, refusing to deal with them for too long. You can’t continue like this. It’s not healthy. I want more than anything for you to be happy. And you aren’t happy. You haven’t been happy the entire time I’ve known you and it hurts me to see you so sad. You’re still a young woman with her entire life ahead of her. Why deny yourself the basic right to peace? I will always be your friend and I am never more than a phone call away. I don’t want you to be angry with me because I’m encouraging you to talk to Zack. Because I’m encouraging you to do what is best for you.”

She stared at him in abject shock. His intuitiveness made her feel horribly exposed, as though he could see every single thought—memory—in her mind. Her chin wobbled in his grasp, and his gaze grew tender with understanding. Why couldn’t she have returned Wade’s attraction? He was a good man. She couldn’t be wrong. Not like she’d been about Zack. But in a lot of ways, she was still that young girl, hopelessly in love, and she’d never felt the stirrings of attraction. Maybe she was ruined for anyone but Zack, which meant she was destined to a life alone, devoid of love, companionship. A family. Children.

“Talk to him, Anna-Grace,” Wade said firmly. “Promise me you will. Don’t do it for me. Do it for you. If you ever hope to have peace, to come to terms with your past and be able to move forward, then the past has to be put to rest.”

He thumbed a tear from her cheek and she curled her hand around his wrist, holding on and absorbing his comfort and strength.

A noise alerted her to Zack’s presence and she turned her fearful gaze to him, worried about how long he’d been there and all he’d heard.

His expression was bleak and her heart sank. He must have heard most—if not all—of her conversation with Wade.

If she hoped that he would at least pretend he hadn’t heard, she was sorely disappointed.