With Every Breath (27 page)

“What on earth is going on?” Eliza asked in a breathy, excited sounding voice.

She had positioned herself slightly to the left but behind the man so he would have to turn to see her fully.

“Big press conference happening tomorrow,” the man muttered as he began turning.

Eliza braced, curling her hands still stuffed in her pockets into tight fists as she waited for the inevitable.

He stared at her a long moment, regarding her thoughtfully. “You're her, aren't you? That girl who turned that sadistic bastard in to the police and then testified against him at his trial.”

To Eliza's complete surprise there was no disgust or condemnation in his eyes or expression. It was such an overwhelming pleasant surprise that she found herself dropping the act of the lovesick fool who'd come back for her man when he was released.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“It was a brave thing you did, young lady. You were only a child. Not many would have had the guts to do what you did.”

There was honest to God sincerity and admiration in his tone and his eyes were kind but she also saw pity.

“Why is there going to be a press conference?” she asked, pressing her momentary advantage and the fact he hadn't already turned away in disgust. She needed all the intel she could gather because this had not been expected and it could put a serious kink in the meticulous, cold-blooded vengeance plan she'd spent days and weeks putting together.

Now disgust blatantly chased away the softness to his features, but it wasn't directed at her. He shook his head, anger flashing in his eyes. He jabbed his thumb over his back in the direction of the media crews setting up on the lawn of the courthouse.

“There's going to be some huge, nationally televised press conference when that spawn of Satan gets out of jail tomorrow.”

Eliza's brow furrowed in genuine confusion and it took every bit of her will to control her growing agitation. “Why on earth would this gain the attention of networks like CNN and Fox News?”

“He asked for one. You didn't know? It's all everyone is talking about.”

Eliza smiled, or tried, but even she knew it was a pathetic attempt. “No one here speaks to me, or rather some do, but they don't exactly strike up a conversation. They tell me exactly what they think about me and then go on their way. So no, I didn't know.”

Pity once again flashed in the older man's eyes, this time more pronounced, and it made Eliza inwardly flinch. She wasn't sure which was worse. The obvious hatred directed at her or pity. Neither was welcome or pleasant.

“Not right the way they're treating you,” he muttered. Then he paused a moment and cocked his head, studying her until she was almost twitching with discomfort. “If you didn't know about the press conference, then why are you here? Why would you come back to a place where you're treated like garbage and people make no secret of their hatred? Word is you're still in love with him and you're here for him, but I don't buy that. It's been a long time. If you were that in love with him and willing to take him back after what he did, then you would have never turned him in and faced him in a courtroom and named him for what he was.”

Eliza clenched her jaw and inhaled rapidly, vowing to fight the sudden sting of tears that threatened to well.

“I didn't believe it,” she said softly, telling a half truth. “I couldn't believe they could set him free after what he did. I had to know, to see for myself.”

“Going to give you some advice, girl. Get out of town and get as far away as possible and do it now while you have the chance. He's got something up his sleeve. Most people in his position where everyone knows he's guilty as hell and got off because of some ridiculous loophole and a dumb-as-a-brick cop not doing his job worth a damn would get out quietly. They'd leave quietly and they wouldn't want to garner attention or notice. They'd move somewhere they could blend so no one would ever know who he was and what he did. But him? The arrogant bastard had his lawyer call up every network they could think of to set up a press conference on the lawn of the courthouse where he was convicted and he's going straight to that press conference the minute he's released.”

Jesus. This was not good news. Not good at all. It was a fucking nightmare with the potential to be more horrifying than anything he'd previously done.

“You need to go,” the man said gently. “People are starting to stare. They're talking and they're angry and just looking for someone to blame and to take their anger out on. But the biggest reason you need to leave right away is because that man will be looking for revenge and you are the only reason he spent the last ten years in prison. He's had a lot of time to think on that and to dream about getting his revenge. You aren't safe here. The people in this town hate you, blame you. Thomas Harrington hates you and blames you as well. It shames me to say this because I've lived here all my life and most of the people who live here are good people, but not many would be sorry to see you suffer. And just as many would celebrate if Harrington does get to you. So go now. Get out of here while you can and may God be with you.”

“Thank you,” Eliza said, barely able to get the words out. “Your kindness means more than you'll ever know. I'll never forget you or your kindness.”

“You can thank me by staying alive. Get out, girl. Do it now and do it fast and never look back. There's nothing here for you but judgment, pain and misery. You deserve better than that.”

Impulsively, Eliza reached out and grabbed the wrinkled, work-worn hand, squeezing it, her fingers trembling with emotion. Then she withdrew her hand and turned away, not trusting herself to say anything further. She left the crowd, ignoring the looks, the comments, and she kept walking, pulling her jacket around her, a barrier, not to the cold, but to the condemnation thrown at her from every direction.

One more day. Less than twenty-four hours now and she had only that much time to reassess her options and adapt because she would not fail this time. She would succeed at any cost and no one, especially not Wade, would die because of her.

Because she could call what she felt for Wade a lie for an eternity and exist in the same state of denial that got her in over her head years ago, but she knew the truth. It was raw and it was painful, as only the truth can be, but what she felt for Wade, what he made her feel for him and the fact that he gave her a taste of the forbidden—hope—and one night of feeling loved was no lie.

It was real. Too real. And it scared the ever loving hell out of her because she could not allow her deepest secrets, the hopes and dreams she'd never shared with anyone or the longing for what Wade offered to be real and not just a hopeless dream interfere with her objective, distract her or sway her from her mission.

Too many lives depended on her having the strength to carry out and execute her plan. A mission that had consumed her very existence the moment she'd received that horrifying phone call telling her Thomas would become a free man in a couple short weeks.

She lived the mission. She ate, breathed and slept—the few times she could sleep—the mission and nothing, not even the promise of experiencing the beauty she'd never had and had once wanted more than anything in the world, would interfere with her destiny.

Some would call it revenge. Others would call it retaliation. Few would say justice had been served. But to Eliza, it was none of those things. They didn't even factor in.

For her, this was love. The love she'd been denied for most of her life but had finally seen it, witnessed it, experienced it for what it truly was. Love was sacrifice. Love was being willing to do anything to protect someone you loved. Love was making the hardest decision you would ever face in a lifetime and then when it was done, knowing you'd do it all over again with no hesitation, no regrets.

Not many would understand Eliza's reasoning or what it meant to her. But for her, it was simple and uncomplicated. Her task, her mission, the necessary evil she had undertaken without a second thought, no hesitation and no regret was for love.

And there was no sacrifice too great for love.

For Wade.

Oh God. She couldn't lie to herself anymore. This wasn't her. She'd always been nothing but honest with herself. Too honest at times. Wade meant something to her. And she was so mixed up, confused and conflicted but above all else, for the first time she felt hope. And damn it, but it felt good. Better than good. And it was Wade who'd given her that gift. It was Wade who put himself out there, made himself vulnerable while she'd held back, refusing to give him back what he gave to her.

He'd told her she mattered. That she was important to him. He cared. About her! God only knew she'd done nothing to merit his regard, the patience and tenderness he displayed.

She'd treated him reprehensibly, and worse, she'd tried to use him. Like he wasn't human and didn't have feelings or emotions. She'd erected a concrete wall between them so he couldn't get in, couldn't see past the façade she'd spent a decade perfecting. And yet somehow, he'd slipped right past her barriers, had dug deep below the surface of the caustic camouflage she wore like she was born with it and had found the real Eliza beneath all the anger, fear, bullshit and the dozen other roles she donned out of self-preservation and he'd handled the real Eliza with care and so much tenderness and understanding that she ached just remembering it all.

Wade was dark and broodingly handsome, a lethal combination that made women throw themselves at him whenever he walked into a room. He was wealthy with a dangerous edge that only added to his already considerable appeal. He could have any woman he wanted with no more effort than a crook of his finger, so why the hell had he chosen her?

Was he a masochist? What man in their right mind would even consider a woman with so many issues that it would take hours to list them all? He should be running as fast and as far away as possible now that he knew the real Eliza, but he'd done none of those things.

He was still here. Watching over her with a careful, attentive eye. Taking her back, protecting her. Laying the law down about her having no part in a face-to-face meeting with Thomas. He didn't want her within a mile of Thomas at any time.

Eliza had never been in love. She'd seen it, had experienced the beauty and selflessness of it through the eyes of others, but she had no personal experience with it at all.

But what were the feelings she had for Wade if not love? How could he make her feel so much and how could she be so overwhelmed by even the simplest tender gesture if it wasn't love? Did she love Wade? Was this what love really felt like? How would she even know when nothing about her “love” for Thomas had been real. Not a single damn part of it.

As a result, she didn't trust herself anymore when it came to her emotions. Never again did she want to willingly hand someone so much power over her. It scared her, but at the same time, there was a yearning so deep within her that had never been filled, a fanciful dream that she had resigned herself to never achieving, never living.

Those things were for other people. Deserving people. Good people. Like the people she worked with. They weren't for the likes of her. This was her penance for her sins. To live her life without such beauty that it hurt to look at two people who loved each other with everything they had.

Did she love Wade? Did she experience that beauty when she was in his arms? She couldn't answer that. Yet. She was too afraid to dig any deeper than she already had because she was terrified of what she might discover and she couldn't afford any distractions at this stage of the endgame.

If she survived and if a second miracle occurred and she didn't spend the rest of her life in jail, then she would try to solve the mystery of Wade Sterling and why she was so off balance with him. And why she had no defense against him when her defenses were impenetrable and no one got by them unless she allowed it.

Wade had stormed into her life as though concrete barriers didn't even faze him. It was embarrassing just how easily he saw past her guard, how he slipped right by her and was there right in the heart of her before she even realized he was there.

Love. Beauty. Hope.

Three things she'd been denied and were forbidden to her. Three things that in a matter of a few days she'd finally experienced firsthand and not through the eyes of others. Three things that she now knew she could no longer live without, yet she very much feared that she would have no choice and it would devastate her to lose them now that she knew how very wonderful they were.

She would have rather never touched the sun and experienced the beauty that Wade had so unselfishly given her than to have been shown what she'd been missing all her life only to have it cruelly yanked away.

You don't miss what you never had. But you mourn what you had and lost forever.

An old saying came to mind, one she'd never paid much attention to. Until now and she realized she didn't at all agree with the sentiment.

It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.

Because if she allowed herself to love Wade and lost him, it would destroy her in a way that Thomas never could.

NINETEEN

ELIZA
winced when the door opened and slammed with enough force to shake the walls just seconds after she herself had entered the safe house. Slowly she turned to face a very furious Wade. His expression was black and ominous as he stalked toward her.

“What part of me telling you that you were to follow my instructions to the letter did you not understand?” he barked, fury blazing in his eyes.

Her eyes narrowed and she refused to be cowed or to back down even if he was a seething mass of pissed off alpha male.

“And what instructions did I supposedly not follow to the letter, oh lord and master,” she said sweetly, sarcasm dripping from every word.