“Baby, come back to me,” he pleaded, framing her face with his hands, pushing back the strands of hair from her cheeks to behind her ears. “I’m here. I’m with you. Whatever it is that’s frightening you, you aren’t alone. I need you to take some nice, deep, even breaths. In through your nose, out from your mouth. Like this.”
He made certain he had her attention and then he demonstrated, inhaling and exhaling, taking his time, slowing his breathing down. Slowly she began to show signs of heightened awareness. She looked into his eyes and he knew the instant she’d come out of the worst of it because he saw recognition on her face, but it was the crushing relief that exploded in her eyes right before she threw herself into his arms and wrapped her arms as tightly as she could around his neck that rattled him to the core.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he soothed, rocking her back and forth as she clung to him as though he was her only lifeline. “I’ll never let you go, honey. Just breathe for me and try to relax. Focus on the most wonderful thing you can think of. The most beautiful dream you ever dreamed. See only that and nothing else and let me take care of you. I’ll never let you fall. I’ll always be here to catch you.”
He knew he was babbling, but he was precariously close to succumbing to a panic attack of his own. When her breathing had regulated itself to a more even rhythm, she went limp against him, as though her strength had been completely sapped. He gently collected her into his arms and cradled her in his lap before rising from the couch, settling her more firmly against his chest.
He glanced Shadow’s way. “Get another one of the pills we gave her last time. As badly as I want to know what in the fuck happened and what she saw that made her withdraw so sharply from reality, she’s in no shape to relive it right now. She needs to rest and relax and when she wakes up, if she feels strong enough, we’ll get into it then.”
Shadow nodded and hurried to the kitchen while Isaac carried his precious bundle into the bedroom. He laid her down, pulling off her shoes, then her jeans and then the rest of her clothing, before rapidly getting one of his shirts that swallowed her much smaller frame and easing it over her head.
Though she was aware of her surroundings and was no longer lost in the hell she’d descended to briefly, she remained quiet, only her eyes moving as they followed his every movement. When Shadow entered with the medicine and a glass of water, she didn’t even protest. She allowed Shadow to slip it onto her tongue, and then Isaac quickly held up the glass of water so she could swallow it down before the bitter taste filled her mouth.
She sank back onto the pillow, tears filling her eyes as she stared blankly at the ceiling, avoiding the gazes of both Isaac and Shadow. Shadow sent a look filled with deep concern Isaac’s way. Isaac stared bleakly back at him, having no idea what to do or say. He couldn’t fix an unknown problem, couldn’t fight an unknown enemy combatant.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Shadow murmured, his gaze flickering back to Jenna, the look of worry growing deeper on his face. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Thanks,” Isaac said hoarsely.
Jenna was already succumbing to the effects of the sedative. Her eyelids grew heavy and she blinked several times as if trying to fight going to sleep. Her eyes closed and remained closed and Isaac thought she’d drifted off, but as he was about to turn to go back into the living room, she sluggishly opened her eyes and they tracked sideways until they found him.
A tear trickled down her cheek, her paleness even starker than it had been before.
“I was loved,” she whispered. “My father. He loved me.”
Isaac’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean, honey? Did you remember something?”
But her eyelids had fluttered closed after her cryptic statement, and this time she gave a little sigh and didn’t reopen them. Soon her even breathing and the soft rise and fall of her chest registered the fact that she was sleeping peacefully.
Isaac sank down on the edge of the bed and buried his face in his hands for a long moment. What the hell had happened to her in there? Why the fuck had he left her alone? He hadn’t left her by herself until today. And she’d paid dearly for his negligence, because she’d been left alone to deal with whatever ghost from her past that was now haunting her.
TWENTY-FOUR
WHEN Isaac strode back into the living room, his entire demeanor demanded answers without him having to say a word. Brent looked up at him and Isaac didn’t like what he saw in the other man’s eyes.
“It’s certainly understandable why she was in complete shock and meltdown,” Brent said grimly. “She was flipping through the channels and enjoying new discoveries and was completely unsuspecting of the cement truck that got dropped right on top of her out of nowhere.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Isaac demanded.
“It would be a hell of a lot quicker and easier if you just watch it,” Brent said. “I’m not even sure I can explain the shit storm that’s currently brewing. The hell of it is, I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. It could go either way.”
“Or it could be a fucking setup,” Zeke growled.
“God damn it, quit with the speculation and just play the fucking thing. While we sit here arguing, there’s a woman in the other room who has so much hurt and confusion in her eyes that it puts knots in my stomach just to see it, and I can’t do a damn thing until I know what the hell she saw that was so traumatic for her.”
“It’s not very long,” Brent muttered. “I think you’ll find it explains her reaction quite a lot.”
Even having seen Jenna’s complete breakdown and hearing the reactions from his men who’d watched it while he was taking care of her in the bedroom, he was utterly unprepared for the scene that unveiled on the television in front of him. Never would he have imagined this happening, and he had no idea what to think or how to feel about the woman’s claims.
His mind went back to Jenna’s childlike “Mama” as if she’d recognized the woman or had vague memories of her. Not much had been said about her mother in their brief conversation regarding her past. She’d had more concrete memories of her father, but she’d seemed to struggle when attempting to conjure up an image or a recollection of her mother.
Christ, no wonder she’d seemed so stunned, lost and bewildered. How she’d come to ever be in the cult was a question that had haunted her from the time she was old enough to question it. Had she been loved? Had her parents wanted her? Had she been taken from them or had they given her into the keeping of the cult, and were they even alive?