Safe at Last (Slow Burn #3) (10 page)

Her hair, which had always been shoulder length, with layers and bangs, was much longer now, the bangs gone, and as he studied her further, he realized she was really thin. There was a fragile, delicate air to her that had never been present even when she’d lived and endured terrible conditions.

His gaze narrowed, because where before she’d always had a glow about her, despite the abovementioned living conditions, and she’d always been quick to laugh and had always been happy, she looked
nothing
like that now. What the hell had happened to her? What was all that bullshit about him ruining her life? His mind was ablaze with questions as all she’d said finally sank in.

She was quiet and subdued, as if the light inside her had been extinguished. She looked . . . sad. Not at all like his Gracie.

What the hell had gone wrong? What was she
thinking,
remembering? And why did his heart feel like it was shattering into a million pieces? Where was the self-righteous anger he’d felt just seconds ago? Why had it suddenly fled and left him with the feeling that the truth—whatever that was—would likely kill him? That he might never recover from the ugly revelation?

She lifted her gaze, almost as if she were having to force herself to look at him, to keep her gaze connected to his. There was so much sorrow in the depths of those sweet brown eyes that it took his breath away. And hurt. So many negative emotions that Zack felt them like hurled daggers.

“Please leave,” she begged softly. “I never
ever
want to see you again. That’s me speaking, Zack. Not Wade. Not anyone else. It’s me. Think whatever you like, but don’t you ever touch me.”

Touch her? He hadn’t been close enough to touch her. He could understand the never seeing or talking to her again, but why would she tell him never to touch her?

Something was terribly wrong and it frustrated the hell out of him because it was obvious that nothing was going to be accomplished today. For one, there was this fiercely protective guard dog looking for the world like he’d love nothing more than to beat Zack to a bloody pulp. As if this smooth-talking rich asshole had a chance in hell of taking Zack down in a fight.

Then there was the fact that Gracie couldn’t even look at him. She was white as a ghost, shaken and obviously terrified. Of
him,
goddamn it.

All she’d said slammed into him like a bullet. He’d ruined her life. He’d done this awful thing and then the part about finishing the job?

The accusations she’d hurled at him swarmed in his mind like angry bees. He forced himself to look her calmly in the eyes and he took a step forward, which immediately made Sterling bristle.

“Read my mind, Gracie,” he said softly. “All you have to do is read my mind. Whatever it is you think I’ve done, just look inside my mind. You’ll get your answers, though it’s evident you don’t think I deserve them.”

She closed her eyes, tears streaking down her cheeks in never-ending rivulets.

When she reopened them, there was raw, naked emotion.

“Even if I
could,
I wouldn’t,” she said, her voice cracking under the strain. “God, I never want to see into
anyone’s
mind again. That’s the only thing I can ever thank you for, because you took that from me too.”

Her response took him aback. What the fucking hell was that? What did she mean he took her ability? There were so many questions tumbling through his mind that he had to make a concerted effort not to go off on a tangent, demanding answers right now.

But the last thing he wanted was a goddamn audience for what was certain to be a highly volatile conversation. Patience was not a virtue he possessed and this was frustrating him to the point of madness. So instead of bombarding her with the questions that were nearly tearing his lips off, he made his next statement with firmness just to make damn sure that the pussy Sterling didn’t miss the message that Zack in no way would be deterred in his pursuit of the past and what went so horribly wrong.

“We need to talk, Gracie,” he said grimly. “Without your little watchdog standing guard. You name the time and place. I don’t care how public it is, if that’s what will make you feel safe with me.” He damn near choked on those words. Hurt her? Wanting her to feel safe from
him
?

“I’ll even have the goddamn police present if that makes you feel better. But whatever the hell it is you
think
I did to you, I can tell you that you are dead wrong. And if it takes the rest of my goddamn life, we
will
have this conversation, Gracie. I won’t give up. I won’t go away. I won’t forget. I’ve waited twelve years for this moment, and I’ll be damned if I walk away from you like you walked away from me.”

NINE

ZACK
turned the corner of the street a few blocks down from his apartment, sweat sliding down his spine. He’d pushed himself harder than normal, and his usual two-mile run had turned into three. It wasn’t until he’d seen the sign for his bank that he realized he’d far surpassed his routine run.

Not even taking a moment to rest or cool down, he propelled himself onward, blanking his mind to his inner turmoil as he made the jog back to his apartment.

The entire night before he and Eliza had searched exhaustively for leads on Gracie, and she’d been right here under his nose all along. Then for a second time, his quest for the truth had been stymied when he’d confronted her earlier today in the studio. He’d been put off, thanks to Sterling’s interference,
twice
. He’d been forced to retreat and wait for a better opportunity, though now that Gracie was tipped off to his presence and very unwelcoming of it, he wondered if she’d tuck tail and run. As she’d apparently done before.

Which meant waiting. More waiting.

Goddamn it, but he was tired of waiting. He’d waited twelve fucking years for this moment. He was further frustrated because it wasn’t as though he no longer knew where Gracie was. She was here. In this city. So close and yet so far away.

Never had he imagined their reunion would go as it had. She’d been afraid of him. Hell, not afraid, she’d been absolutely terrified.

His mind kept yanking him back to the look on her face. No shock. No pleasant surprise. No greeting for the man who’d loved—and searched for—her for more than a decade.

Why?

He knew he was missing one giant piece of the puzzle here. But hell if he knew what it was. If only she would talk to him. Give him
something
. Jesus, didn’t he deserve more than what he’d gotten? She acted as though she were the wronged party here. But he sure as hell hadn’t run out on her and left her to wonder if he was even alive for twelve goddamn years.

He’d given her everything. His heart, soul. He’d promised her forever. And he’d goddamn meant it. Not many college kids knew exactly what they wanted from the future. But he had. From the moment Gracie had entered his life, he’d had absolute focus. He’d known that his life would forever revolve around her.

Well, he’d certainly been right on that count. Because even when she’d disappeared,
everything
had revolved around finding her again.

He’d planned their lives together to the nth degree. He wanted her to have everything she could ever dream of. Though he planned to always take care of and provide for her, he knew an education was important to her. Her circumstances embarrassed and shamed her. He hated that, hated that he couldn’t take that away for her. He didn’t care if she had a degree or not. He knew he’d make good money playing pro ball and that she and their children would never want for anything he could give them.

But at the same time, he wanted her happy. And so they’d talked about her going to college after she graduated from high school. They were young. Had all the time in the world—or so he’d thought. No need to rush anything. He wanted her to have security. So she’d attend college, earn her degree, and only after would they think about having children.

Honestly, waiting to have children wasn’t an issue for Zack. Yes, he had it all planned. But he wanted those years with Gracie—just the two of them—before they added children to their family.

Maybe he’d been so wrapped up in the future that he hadn’t been paying enough attention to the
present
. Obviously something had gone extremely wrong. Something he’d been oblivious to, because he’d never seen this coming. He’d never forget the shock of finding her gone. Vanished. And the incessant question, one he’d hammered on repeatedly for the next twelve years.
Why
?

By the time he jogged through his complex toward the east wing, which was made up of three-level town houses, dusk had faded to night. His breath blew in a cloud and the evening air brushing his sweat-glistening skin caused a cascade of goose bumps over his arms.

He slowed to a walk when he neared the gate leading to his unit. Though the town homes were connected, the front and back yards were separated by privacy fences. And the gate at the end of the paved walkway to his front porch was opened via a security code.

He frowned when he saw the display was completely dead. Just what he needed. To be locked out of his own goddamn apartment. Frustration coiled through his blood like a venomous snake. He slammed his fist against the gate with an emphatic curse.

To his surprise, the gate wobbled and opened a few inches. Zack frowned, wondering just how good the supposedly high-tech security features actually were in this joint. Well, he wouldn’t bitch too much. Having the gate open saved him the hassle of contacting the manager and being able to get into his own goddamn house.

His motion-activated lights were obviously a victim of whatever was wrong with the gate. A prickle of unease raced up his spine. His head came up, his nostrils flaring as he scanned the dark exterior of the house. The light was on in the midlevel TV room. But the outside light that illuminated the steps to the porch, and which he always left on, was off.

Cursing the fact that he didn’t have his pistol, he paused at the bottom step. From his periphery, a shadowy form came into focus. His head yanked in that direction and he tensed, prepared to defend himself.

He blinked to narrow his focus and realized that he was looking at a
person,
obviously unconscious—or dead? Sprawled a few feet from the bottom step, hidden from the street by shrubbery, was a human body. It had to be a woman or a very small man. The only thing readily visible was two bare feet.

His pulse accelerated and he rushed to the body, his chest hammering in fear as he reached to turn the person over. The head lolled as he rolled her to her back and then all his breath left him when he saw who the person was. Oh God. Oh God. No. Please no.

“Gracie!”

Her name escaped him in an agonized cry.

His heart nearly exploded in his chest. He let out his breath in a long, visible cloud. His vision swam with moisture and he blinked, needing to see how badly she was hurt.

Oh dear Lord. She was beaten. Badly. Bruises marked and colored her swollen features. Dried blood was smeared down her chin and neck. Worse, her hands were tied behind her back. She’d had no way to defend herself. No way to ward off the blows she’d received.

Bile rose in his throat and it took every ounce of strength not to throw up. Tears burned his eyelids. His hand shook violently as he fumbled at her neck for a pulse. Let her be alive. Don’t let him have found her after twelve long years only to lose her again.

With his other hand, he gently smoothed her hair from her face, wincing when he saw the extent of the bruising. God, where could he even touch her? What if she’d sustained internal injuries? She could be bleeding. He could still lose her!

He nearly wilted with relief when he felt the faint, erratic patter of her pulse. And then he shook the shock and utter confusion away and bolted into action. He yanked his cell phone up and quickly dialed 911.

As he spoke with the dispatcher, providing his location and Gracie’s condition, he tried to make Gracie as comfortable as possible without moving her too much. The last thing he wanted was to cause her further harm by doing something careless.

His call ended, and he tossed the phone down so he could focus more carefully on Gracie. He bent down and gathered her gently against his chest, hoping his body heat would offer her some respite from the damp chill. He tugged at the ropes that had cut into her wrists. Then he frowned when he felt the rough abrasions on her skin.

She was so still. One could easily believe she was dead. Her breaths were so light that her chest barely made any movement at all. They were also shallow. He knew she needed oxygen and silently urged the ambulance to get there as fast as possible.

When he’d arranged her head so that it wasn’t at such an awkward angle, he quickly assessed the rest of her body, his heart in his throat. Nothing looked broken, but how was he to know?

And then something else caught his eyes. Something familiar. He went utterly still, his gaze fastening on the tag affixed to her toe. No. Oh hell no. There was no fucking way.

An inarticulate sound of rage erupted from his throat as he ran his hand down her leg, checking for further injury before he carefully detached the tag from her toe. He was careful to only touch what was necessary and then he read the scrawled words, the now-familiar handwriting like salt poured on an already festering wound.

This is what happens to people who get in our way.

Son of a bitch! Gracie had been targeted because of him. He’d led the enemy straight to her! How could he have known?

His entire body was flushed with heat—rage. His skin and heart burned with it.

Months ago, they’d found another body with the same tag attached to the toe. Ari’s biological father. He hadn’t survived his beating. Would Gracie live?

He closed his eyes, unable to even consider the possibility. Were his worst fears of what had happened to her twelve years ago being realized
now
?

They had underestimated the enemy. Mistaken their silence and patience as them having given up. Now Zack realized that they’d simply been watching—and waiting—for the right moment to strike. To find a vulnerable target, since getting to Ramie and Ari, the two women married to brothers Caleb and Beau, would prove pretty damn difficult, given the fact that their husbands kept very close guard over the women they loved.