Just One Touch (Slow Burn #5)

“Two of the men identified and pictured on television I instantly recognized as the men who’d murdered my husband and kidnapped my precious daughter.”

She bowed her head for a long moment, seemingly too emotional to continue.

Jenna stared in stunned silence, simply unable to comprehend what she was witnessing. A warm tear rolled down the side of her face, but she didn’t lift her hand to wipe it away. Her breathing became even more rapid. It didn’t make sense. What was she afraid of? The truth?

“I viewed each and every one of the bodies, hoping to find answers, something that would tell me if my Jenna was still alive or what might have happened to her. She wasn’t among the dead, but I found a photo of her. It was my daughter! There is absolutely no doubt. I’m pleading with anyone who has information about her whereabouts or any information leading to the discovery of Jenna Wilder to please come forward. And Jenna, if you’re out there, I have never given up hope of one day being reunited with you.”

Jenna continued to stare blankly at the screen as suddenly her mind shifted to a long-ago event. The birthday cake and the four candles. Her father’s proud, smiling face, filled with so much love. She reached farther back, closing her eyes as she strained to bring the memory into focus. A woman holding a gift-wrapped box, a strange smile on her face as she watched Jenna’s father toss her into the air while she squealed with laughter.

“Mama?” Jenna said, her voice higher pitched, sounding more like the child twisting circles in Jenna’s mind.

Her chest felt as though it was on fire and the rapid inhalations had halted for some reason. Why wasn’t she breathing? The room blurred, moving in and out of focus as the press conference droned on and on, the only sound registering in Jenna’s ears a loud, persistent buzzing.





TWENTY-THREE

“SHOULD we go rescue the remote before the batteries die and she beats the shit out of it because she doesn’t know it takes batteries to operate?” Shadow asked Isaac in amusement.

Isaac chuckled. “I’ve been up in her grill twenty-four seven since . . . well, hell, basically since I pulled her out of my SUV she’d stolen and decided I was keeping her. I couldn’t imagine any situation where I didn’t want to be as close to her as possible, but she’s like a kid with a new, obnoxiously loud, annoying toy who plays it over and over and over again.”

Shadow cracked up while Knight and Dex, who’d entered the kitchen just as Shadow suggested mounting a rescue mission to retrieve the remote, both snickered. Then Dex stopped and turned one ear in the direction of the living room, standing silent for a moment.

“I dunno, it might be safe to go back in. The channel hasn’t changed in the last minute or so—it’s the same newscast I heard on my way to the kitchen,” Dex said in a hopeful voice.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Shadow grumbled as he ambled toward the door leading into the living room.

He came to an abrupt halt, his body language putting Isaac on immediate alert. He was about to demand what the fuck Shadow was looking at when Shadow said, without turning around, “Isaac, you need to get in here fast.”

The edge in Shadow’s voice made Isaac’s stomach plummet and he shoved by Dex and Knight, breaking into a run. He shoved Shadow so he’d move to the side, and then Isaac saw what Shadow meant.

Jenna stood as rigid and as ghastly white as a statue just a few feet in front of the television as it droned on. He could see even from where he stood that she was hyperventilating. As he started toward her, he heard a high-pitched, childish voice—Jenna, only not Jenna—and the only word that echoed softly through the room was, “Mama?”

Oh fuck. A dull roar began in Isaac’s ears just as he noticed that she’d stopped hyperventilating. In fact she was so still that it didn’t appear she was breathing at all. She wobbled precariously like a drunk in heels and he lunged for her, shouting for the others to help.

He caught her just as her legs gave out and she slid toward the floor. He gathered her in his arms, fear gripping him by the throat. What the hell had traumatized her to this degree?

He carried her to the couch, sitting her up and holding her when she began to list forward as though she was about to pitch right off the couch onto her face. He grasped her shoulders, turning her to face him, and he shook her lightly, just enough to gain her attention.

“Breathe, god damn it! Breathe, Jenna!”

Her eyelids fluttered, and for a moment she stared at him in blank confusion as if she didn’t even recognize him.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered.

Shadow pushed in on one side, pressing a cold rag to the back of her neck while Knight slipped his fingers around her slender wrist to check her pulse rate. Dex was focused on her near nonexistent respiration rate while Isaac tried again to get her to snap out of it.

“Mama?” she asked again in a trembling voice.

“Oh honey,” Isaac said, his heart breaking for her.

He did not have a good feeling about what had prompted her panic attack. Not a good feeling at all. He turned to Zeke, who’d rushed into the living room when he’d heard the shouting, and quickly snapped an order.

“Rewind the current program at least thirty minutes and pause it. Whatever Jenna saw on it fucked with her in a big way.”

“Anything we can do to help?” Brent asked quietly as he stepped up beside Zeke, while Eric and Capshaw crowded in behind them.

“I need to know what the fuck she saw on the news that caused her to completely lose it and go into nuclear meltdown mode,” Isaac bit out to no one in particular. “But do not play it back until I have her out of the room.”

He refocused his attention on Jenna, who was now emitting sounds reminiscent of a fish gasping for air out of water. Her pupils were dilated, her eyes wide, her face completely devoid of any color or life. She had the look of someone who’d just lost everything that ever mattered the most, everything good, leaving her with nothing. The soulless eyes staring back at him were his complete undoing. He had to get her back from whatever hell she was in. He refused to let her stay there a moment longer. She was exhibiting signs of shock and that, combined with all the other factors in play, scared the holy fuck out of him.

He grasped her cold hands in his and rubbed them to infuse warmth into her fingers, all the while speaking to her in a calm, soothing voice about nothing in particular. After a moment, he ditched the nonsensical shit and leaned in so their noses were mere inches apart.