Safe at Last (Slow Burn #3) (12 page)

When she was discharged, she was going home with him. But not back to his current place. Not with those bastards still out there, circling like vultures. Her beating had been a message. To him. To DSS. His mind was already going full gear. He would have Beau find a secure location for him to move Gracie to. And security would be top-notch.

He eased his way to the head of the bed, careful not to wake her. For a long moment he stood, drinking in her fragile appearance. His heart ached. His chest was tight with discomfort.

He leaned down, cupping his hand over her brow, one of the few places left untouched by her attackers. Gently he rubbed his thumb over the bridge of her nose, wincing as he took in the extent of her facial bruising.

God, he wanted to kill those bastards for touching her. For laying their hands on what was his. Gracie had always belonged to him. The last twelve years no longer mattered. She was here now. And if he had his way, she’d never go anywhere else.

He lowered his head to press his lips against her brow. He closed his eyes as his breath blew warm against her skin.

“I’m so sorry, Gracie,” he said bleakly. “God, I’m so sorry.”

She stirred slightly and he quickly lifted his head, his gaze anxious. He held his breath when her eyelids flickered and then opened.

She blinked a few times, her face crinkling in confusion. And then she let out a low moan and tried to lift her head from the pillow. Her arms flailed out in a defensive gesture and more sounds of fear and desperation spilled from swollen lips.

“Gracie. Gracie, honey, you’re all right. It’s me, Zack.”

She went utterly still and if possible she grew even whiter beneath the purple of bruises. Her head swiveled so that her gaze locked with his.

Terror swept through her eyes and her lips parted and then shut repeatedly as though fear had robbed her of speech.

Zack ran his hand lightly down her arm to where the IV attached at her wrist. He flinched when she withdrew so quickly it pained her. She emitted a soundless cry, hurt flashing in her eyes.

What the fuck?

He managed to keep the frown from his face. Barely. It took everything he had to stand there and take her response. If it had only been now he could understand. It was understandable for a woman who’d been attacked to have an instinctual defensive response. To be afraid.

But it wasn’t just now. It wasn’t because she’d been attacked. She’d reacted the same way on the two other occasions they’d come into contact. Like he was some kind of monster. She hadn’t merely been surprised or afraid. She’d been fucking terrified. Of
him
!

“Do you remember what happened?” he asked softly, ignoring, for now, her fear of him.

She let out a small, defeated whimper. The sound nearly slayed him. He reached behind him to snag the lone chair, pulling it toward the bed so he could sit. So he didn’t loom over her and frighten her more.

She visibly swallowed and then licked her lips.

“Would you like some water?”

For a moment she just stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. Then, slowly, she nodded. She kept her frozen gaze on him the entire time as he stood, went to the sink and ran water in one of the small cups.

He walked back to the bed, and holding the cup with one hand, he carefully slid his free arm behind her neck and lifted just enough that she could sip without spilling it on herself.

She took several long swallows and then broke away, coughing. Her face spasmed with agony and her arm went instinctively to her stomach, to her injured ribs, holding it while she tried to suppress the cough.

“Easy,” he murmured, easing her head back down.

As he turned away, he saw that both hands were curled into tight fists, the backs of her knuckles completely white with strain.

When he was settled back in the chair, he reached for the fist on his side and carefully unrolled her fingers and then curled his around hers.

“Why are you so afraid of me, Gracie? I don’t understand. God, there’s so much I don’t understand. But we’ll start with this, the most important. Don’t you know I’d never hurt you? That I’d kill—will kill—anyone who does?”

Tears welled in her eyes and silently leaked down her temple to disappear into her hairline. She fixed her gaze on the ceiling as those shiny rivulets continued to run.

“Please talk to me, Gracie. Tell me what’s wrong. Why are you so goddamn scared of me?”

“I don’t want you here,” she choked out.

Her free hand went to her throat, rubbing as though it hurt her to speak. Fury raged inside him. Of course her throat hurt. There were visible hand and finger marks surrounding her slender throat. As if those bastards had choked her repeatedly.

Those words, those simple five words, gutted him to the core.

“Why?” he asked bluntly. “Why do you hate me so much, Gracie? I loved you. I always loved you. And you left. God, do you have any idea the hell it’s been wondering what happened to you twelve years ago? Not knowing if you were dead or alive. Somewhere hurting. In need of help. Didn’t I deserve more than what you gave me? Not even a goodbye. Or ‘fuck off.’ You didn’t even do me the service of breaking up with me. You just . . . disappeared.”

“How dare you,” she spit out. “How dare you act the victim after what you
did
.”

Alarm splintered up his spine. Finally they were getting somewhere.

“What did I do?” he demanded. “Tell me, Gracie, because I sure as hell don’t know. If I were someone you loved then you would have at least given me a chance to explain. You would have told me what was wrong and given me a chance, at least, to make things right. I
loved
you. I would have moved heaven and earth to make you happy.”

She looked utterly horrified. Tears swamped her eyes, making them bright and shiny.

“You didn’t love me! Your idea of love is sick! It’s twisted. I don’t owe you anything. But you owe me more than you can ever repay. Listen to me carefully, Zack. There is nothing—
nothing
—you could ever do or say for me to forgive you. For you to even think it, for you to come in here and act as though I owe you something, is horrifying and so screwed up I can’t even fathom your gall.”

“What. Did. I. Do?” he bit out emphatically, emphasizing each and every word.

He was fast losing patience. He wanted to put his goddamn fist through the wall. He wanted to vent all the rage and grief festering inside him.

Gracie’s hand flew to her mouth and she gagged, choking and then coughing.

“Oh God, I’m going to be sick!” she cried.

Zack flew to his feet and then reached over, lifting her head again while yanking the emesis basin from the stand beside the bed. He turned her as she dry-heaved, her entire body convulsing.

Her sound of agony cut through him like a serrated blade. He hastily punched the call button for a nurse and then shouted loud enough that hopefully Beau or Caleb heard him.

The door immediately opened and Beau filled the frame.

“What is it?” Beau demanded.

“Get me a nurse. Now!”

Beau disappeared and was back just seconds later with a nurse in tow.

The nurse frowned and rushed toward the bed.

“What on earth happened?” she demanded.

“She got sick,” Zack said, stating the obvious. He hated when people asked the obvious. “And she’s in pain from the dry heaving. Can you give her something more? I don’t think her last dose of pain medicine is working worth a damn.”

“I’ll be right back,” the nurse said, hurrying toward the door.

Beau stood to the side, a worried expression on his face as they waited for the nurse’s return. Caleb entered quietly behind his brother and stood behind and just beside Beau, who’d taken position at the footboard.

Gracie stopped heaving long enough to cast a fearful look in Beau’s direction, and then her attention settled on Caleb, her features freezing as if she had only noticed there were three of them, thus three possible threats to her standing right here in her hospital room. Her gaze darted between the two brothers as if she feared one or both would hurt her. Zack was going to explode if he didn’t get some goddamn answers soon.

Finally the nurse returned, carrying two syringes. With crisp efficiency she stepped to the bed and lifted the arm that had the IV inserted. She rubbed and patted Gracie’s arm in a comforting gesture.

“It’ll be all right, hon,” the nurse said in a sweet voice. “I’m giving you something for pain and also for nausea. It should fix you right up. But I’ll check on you again in fifteen minutes. If you’re still hurting, I’ll call the doctor to see if we can up the order for pain meds.”

Gracie laid her head back on the pillow, tears running endlessly from the corners of her eyes. Her silent sobs were taking a piece of Zack’s soul, one by one. He’d never felt so helpless. How could he fix what he didn’t know? Whatever the hell it was he supposedly did was apparently catastrophic in nature. What on earth could put such fear and revulsion in her eyes and such hatred in her voice?

This wasn’t the sweet, loving Gracie he knew and had loved for most of his life.

“Try to get some rest now,” the nurse said quietly. “We’ll be taking you up to the room in an hour or so.”

Gracie let out a sound of protest when the nurse started to leave. The nurse frowned and gave Zack a quick, inquiring glance.

“She’s scared,” Zack said truthfully. “Wouldn’t you be?”

The nurse grimaced. “Don’t worry, Miss Hill. You’re safe here. No one can hurt you now.”

Gracie’s eyes only widened more and she cast a panicked look in Zack’s direction. But the nurse missed it, having turned toward the door once more.

“Uh . . . Caleb and I will just wait outside,” Beau said.

The entire room was weighed down by edginess, fear, even full scale panic. It was thick, it was nearly a tangible taste in Zack’s mouth. He should know, because he’d tasted fear more times than he could count since losing Gracie so long ago.

“Who are you?” Gracie asked hoarsely.

It seemed she’d been having an argument with herself as to which of the Devereaux brothers to speak to. And since it was obvious she had no intention of addressing Zack, she was likely deciding which Devereaux posed the least threat to her. Not that either brother ever looked remotely harmless. But since she was looking directly at Beau and hadn’t even acknowledged Caleb, it was obvious it was Beau she was asking the question of and Beau she’d decided posed the least threat of the remaining two men.

Zack couldn’t blame her for choosing Beau over Caleb. Beau could be intimidating but he did have a sense of humor and he was always cognizant of how his actions, words and demeanor often made the difference in gaining a client’s trust. Caleb, on the other hand, even on his best day, was intense and brooding-looking. He rarely smiled except when he was with Ramie or Tori Devereaux, the youngest of all the Devereaux siblings and the only sister to boot.

But then everyone was careful to shield the still very fragile and vulnerable Tori so she never feared the very people who loved her the most and protected her with their lives. At present, she lived with Caleb and Ramie, and from what little exposure he’d had with Tori, he doubted her living arrangements would change in the short term. According to Beau, Tori had made progress and was valiantly trying to do it on her own without her older brothers’—and now her two sisters-in-law’s—help. Unfortunately for Tori, she possessed three of the most over protective older brothers a girl ever had. Some brothers threaten someone—usually a guy—when it comes to their baby sister. But Tori’s older brothers wouldn’t make threats. Threats are a waste of time and only useful to cowards who have no intention of ever trying to back up their threats.

Beau looked startled by Gracie’s question, and for a moment, so too had Zack not registered it because his thoughts and focus weren’t where they should have been. Here. With Gracie.

Despite his initial reaction to Gracie directly addressing him, his expression eased into a reassuring smile and he stepped to the foot of the bed so Gracie could better see him. When he spoke, it was with gentle, soothing tones.

“I’m Beau Devereaux, ma’am. I work with Zack. I run a security company with my brother, Caleb. I don’t want you to worry any longer. We’re going to put one hundred percent of our time and effort into ensuring your safety and into finding the bastards who did this to you. I swear it on my life.”

She looked confused by Beau’s passionate statement. Her eyes flickered and then she turned them toward Zack. She seemed puzzled, as if she were trying to make sense of it all.

“But who’s going to keep me safe from
him
?” she whispered, staring directly at Zack.

ELEVEN

“WHAT
are you going to do, man?” Beau asked in a hushed voice.

Zack ran his hand through his hair in a ragged, agitated motion.

The two men stood just outside the open door of the room Gracie had been moved to. Zack was leaning against the wall, exhaustion from two sleepless nights catching up quickly.

After Gracie had dropped her bomb of a question, one that Beau had been speechless to respond to, she’d drifted off under the influence of the meds and an hour later she’d been moved to a private room on the sixth floor.

“I don’t fucking know,” Zack said. “What the hell am I
supposed
to do? She hates my guts. She’s terrified of me. And I don’t know why. She keeps mentioning this ‘horrible’ thing I did. Said it was
unforgivable
.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, ouch. This runs deep, Beau. She had the same reaction at the gallery and the art studio. No way of faking that much fear. But Jesus,
why
? I don’t get it. I
loved
her, man. She was
it
for me. You know, the trite cliché that so many men, especially men like us, cringe over and roll their eyes? Not me. She was The One for me. And God help me but there will be no other woman for me.”

“I had our entire future planned. House, wife, kids. The American dream. I’d play pro ball for ten years if I were lucky. Bank the money and then retire and spend my time spoiling my wife and children rotten. Have a mini football team of our own if we were so blessed. She was on board. She said she loved me, and she
did
. No one is that good an actress. And she sure as hell wasn’t using me. If that were the case she would have stayed and milked me for every dime. No, she cut out before I even
made
the pros. I came home one day and she had vanished, leaving me to think the absolute worst.”