by Maya Banks
She hadn’t thought she could feel such pain ever again. That she’d become immune to anything regarding Zack Covington. She’d thought she’d put his betrayal behind her, that he couldn’t possibly hurt her anymore. But some wounds simply didn’t heal. Some wounds continued to bleed, no matter how much time had passed. Worst of all, she now realized she’d merely been in denial all these years. Now it was as if the bandage had been ripped from a wound, causing it to bleed fresh all over again.
She’d been wrong. She hadn’t been remotely prepared for the wave of anguish that had consumed her when coming face-to-face with the man she’d loved with every part of her heart and soul. The man who’d betrayed her so horribly that she still couldn’t fathom it.
It had been crippling, robbing her of breath. It had shamed her, that she was so weak. That the day he’d shown up in her studio she had been completely helpless, unable to say or do anything in her fear-induced paralysis. If Wade hadn’t appeared when he had she didn’t know what she would have done. What Zack would have done. A man she would have never dreamed she needed to fear. A man she’d never imagined being capable of such . . . evil.
And now? The past had repeated itself. What did the two events have in common?
Zack.
Why did he hate her so much? What had she done to make him despise her? What kind of person went to the lengths he did just to get his message across? And what message? If he hadn’t wanted her any longer, if he hadn’t loved her anymore, then why not just break things off with her? Why punish her for sins she knew nothing about? That she hadn’t committed!
Please, please God, let him be gone when she awakened again. She couldn’t do this again. She couldn’t face him, not after twelve years. She’d worked so hard to put the past behind her, to recover from something she hadn’t been sure she would survive. But she had survived. It had taken her years, but she’d put the pieces back together. She had a life now. And the moment her past caught up to her, she was thrown into a world of pain and violence and . . . heartbreak. Again.
“Anna-Grace. Come on, honey. I need you to wake up for me. There are people who need to talk to you.”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. She didn’t want to leave the warm cocoon formed by the pain medication. It was safe here. She felt nothing here. Just a blank, empty void filled with warmth and soothing light.
She drifted away once more, shutting out the voice that had infiltrated the fog surrounding her.
But it was persistent. Someone called her name again. Louder this time. She frowned and shook her head, wincing when the motion sent shards of pain through her skull. Why wouldn’t they just leave her alone? That’s all she wanted. Just to be left alone. She’d been alone for so very long. It was the only way she knew. The only life she knew. She didn’t dare trust anyone. Not after Zack’s betrayal.
Zack had been her entire world. Her love, hope and trust had been solidly wrapped up in him. If she couldn’t trust him, then whom else could she trust? No one. And that’s a policy she’d adhered strictly to for the last decade. Except . . .
Wade had befriended her despite her best attempts at holding him at arm’s length. He’d been persistent, not allowing her to remain indifferent to him. But the sad part was she was just waiting for him to betray her as well. Even in their easy friendship, she was wary, convinced—having been taught the hard way—that betrayal was inevitable.
“Anna-Grace, you have to wake up. You’ve been sleeping long enough.”
Wade?
A surge of relief overwhelmed her. Oh thank God. Wade was here. He wouldn’t hurt her, would he? Was she a fool for putting her trust in any man?
It had taken a long time for Anna-Grace to relax around him. She’d been understandably wary of him. But he’d patiently outwaited her, slowly and carefully wearing down her defenses until she’d finally let him in.
But even so, she hadn’t confided her past until recently. Some hurts were too private. Too painful. Telling him hadn’t been a relief, like ripping a bandage away quickly. It had been the most difficult, most heartrending thing she’d ever done. And afterward, she hadn’t been able to face him for days. She’d hidden, embarrassed and mortified at what she’d confided in him.
Only when he’d forced a confrontation and been firm with her that nothing had changed between them, that he was still her friend, had she finally acted rationally and accepted his offer of . . . friendship.
She wasn’t a fool. She knew Wade’s interest had been more personal when they’d first met. But after she’d finally confided in him her terrifying past, he’d never again suggested there be anything more between them than close friendship.
Going forward he’d been her rock. Her best friend. Even as she chided herself for allowing anyone close to her, for trusting someone again, she’d been unable to help herself. She needed human contact. Twelve years of isolation had worn on her, beating her down and dragging her further and further away from humanity. Wade refused to let her continue to hide. He’d pushed her, encouraged her and refused to let her shut him out.
He called her name again.
Her eyelids flickered open and she frowned at the effort it took. The entire room was fuzzy and for a moment she forgot where she was. She turned her head to the side, seeking out Wade, and the pain that splintered through her head reminded her of just where she was. And why.
Tears welled, stinging her eyes. Weakly she lifted her hand, flailing outward in an attempt to grab Wade’s arm. Then his warm hand curled around hers and she was imbued with his strength and support.
“Thank God,” she whispered hoarsely.
She frowned harder when she heard her raspy voice. Her free hand flew to her throat to massage absently at the sore muscles. It felt as though her throat was nearly swollen shut. Remembering the huge hands wrapped around it, squeezing, nearly choking her time and time again, she understood why it hurt so badly now.
Her attacker had wanted her to believe she was dying. He’d closed off her airway until she nearly passed out, only to relax his grip so she could gulp in more air. Then he’d done it all over again until she’d lost count and had prayed to lose consciousness so she could escape her current hell.
“Wade?” she croaked.
He bent and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Yes, Anna-Grace, it’s me. You’re safe now. I swear it on my life.”
Tears streaked hotly down her cheeks and she gulped back a betraying sob.
“The police are here, sweetheart. They need to talk to you. Ask you some questions. I know you hurt. I know you’re tired. But it’s important that we catch the bastards who did this to you. If I help you sit up some, can you try to answer a few questions at least?”
Her heart pounded violently and her entire mouth went dry. Police? Questions?
She cast her fearful gaze to the side only to collide with two tall, somber looking men. Both wore short, clipped hair that made them look more military than plainclothes detectives.
“Miss Hill,” one of the detectives said politely. “My name is Detective Briggs and this is my partner, Detective Ramirez. We’d like to talk to you about the attack on you. Are you up to answering a few questions for us?”
She almost said no and took the coward’s way out. But determination gleamed in the policemen’s eyes and she got the impression that even had she said no they wouldn’t have simply given up and walked away.
So she nodded hesitantly.
“I’m not certain I’ll be of any help,” she said in a low voice. “It all happened so fast. I mean on one hand it seemed to last forever. I thought they were going to kill me. I thought I was going to die. I wanted to die,” she said painfully, closing her eyes in shame.
Beside her Wade cursed, and she could swear she heard it echoed from across the room.
“When I try to remember, it’s all one big blur. I don’t know who they are or what they wanted.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to accuse Zack. To tell them they should b
e questioning him. But she was too afraid of retaliation. She had to leave this city. She wasn’t safe here. He knew where she was. God, he’d said he’d looked for her. Why? Hadn’t he been determined to get rid of her? Or maybe the men who’d raped her were supposed to have killed her. Silence her for good. And for what? For loving him? What had she done so wrong that he would have such a terrible thing done to her?
She closed her eyes and more tears spilled over the swollen, scratchy rims of her eyes. Wade curled his hand around hers and squeezed reassuringly. Then he slid his arm behind her and eased her upward while telling one of the detectives to elevate the back of her bed.
A low whirring noise sounded and soon the bed was elevated enough that she could sit up without too much pain or discomfort.
But then she got a good look at her hospital room. Her gaze homed in on the two people who stood in the background, beyond the foot of the bed close to the door, and she froze, fear paralyzing every muscle in her body.
Completely stricken, she stared helplessly at the monster who’d haunted so many of her dreams. Standing beside a woman who was vaguely familiar to Anna-Grace. She let out a low whimper of terror and desperately clung to Wade’s hand, her only anchor in a sea of madness.
Her nightmare come to life was standing at the foot of her bed staring intently at her.
The man she’d loved with every fiber of her being. The man she’d given her heart and soul to. The man she’d saved herself for, vowing she’d never be with any other man, only to have that precious gift ripped from her in a violent, horrific, soul-shattering act.
Zack.
SIXTEEN
ZACK felt as though he’d been punched right in the gut. All his breath left him and pain rolled over and through his chest—his heart—and tightened every one of his nerve endings. As soon as Gracie’s gaze found him, her expression turned to one of stark fear . . . and then utter revulsion.
God, he couldn’t bear the fact that she thought . . . He couldn’t even repeat it to himself. The very idea of orchestrating her rape—the rape of any woman—was so repulsive that nausea rose from the depths of his stomach and swelled in his throat. What kind of sick bastard would do such a thing?
And then it hit him even harder that people he knew, people he’d trusted, people he’d called friends had horrifically assaulted her. In a way he was responsible because he’d introduced these “friends” to Gracie. He’d exposed her to them. What possible threat to them could she have been that they’d taken such extreme measures? Were they just sick, twisted fucks whom he’d sorely misjudged?
He couldn’t bear the way she looked at him. The horror on her face and then how she gripped Sterling’s hand even harder and looked to him as if for . . . protection?
“Get him out!” Gracie said in a near shriek, her voice breaking under the strain.
She choked on the words and ended in a coughing fit that obviously pained her.
The detectives whirled around as if expecting to find someone new in the room. Their looks grew puzzled when they saw that only Zack and Eliza stood there. Detective Brigg’s gaze sharpened and then he glanced back at Gracie’s sheet-white face and back at Zack, a frown twisting his lips.
“What’s going on here?” Ramirez demanded.
Gracie was shaking like a leaf now, her panic escalating into a full-blown anxiety attack. The hand that wasn’t holding Sterling’s flew to her mouth but jittered so much her fingers were tapping her lips in a nervous staccato.
“Make him leave!” she said, her hysteria rising.
“Shhh, Anna-Grace,” Sterling said soothingly. Or rather he tried to calm her. But Gracie was a mess. A terrified mass of anguish that ripped Zack’s heart right in two.
She shook her head, her teeth chattering so violently that when she tried to speak, her words died in a garbled mess.
Sterling turned to Zack, regret lining his forehead. “Maybe you should go,” he said in a low voice. “For now. Until Anna-Grace answers the detectives’ questions.”
“Why are you so afraid of him, Miss Hill?” Detective Briggs asked, still staring holes through Zack.
Any other time Zack would appreciate—and commend—the detective’s solicitousness and his attention to detail. But right now he really just wanted the two men to ask their questions and get the hell out. They had assholes to catch that didn’t include Zack.
To Zack’s surprise, Sterling looked up at the detective while soothing Gracie with one hand and said, “She’s understandably afraid of a lot of men right now. Can you blame her? She’s been brutalized and I’m sure she’d like to get this over with as soon as possible. So, please, ask your questions and leave her to rest.”
Ramirez frowned but didn’t pursue the matter further. But Zack still held his breath as the detectives refocused their attention on Gracie. Sterling leveled a stare at Zack and lifted his chin to indicate Zack should leave.
Damn it. As much as he hated the idea of not remaining to hear Gracie’s account of what happened, he couldn’t afford to upset her further.
Eliza nudged him toward the open door and he reluctantly stepped into the hallway. When he was well enough away from the room, he slammed his fist into the wall, emitting a sound of rage that had been bottled up far too long.
Tears coursed down his cheeks, carving harsh grooves in his skin. Then after three successive punches, the last forming a crack in the paint, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the wall.
Eliza put her hand on his back and simply held it there in a gesture of silent support. Finally, when he felt capable of words, he swallowed back the throbbing knot in his throat and turned to face Eliza.
“What am I going to do, Lizzie?” he asked brokenly. “Jesus, I don’t even know what the statute of limitations is for aggravated rape in Tennessee. What if she decides to prosecute, for God’s sake? I mean I want her to. I’d like to see those bastards rot in prison for what they did, but to think I engineered it? I could well go to jail along with those assholes.”
“It could never be proved,” Eliza said grimly.
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better? I want justice for her. But I’m not going to take the fall for something I could never—would never do. But how can I ever convince her of my innocence? For twelve years she’s thought I’ve set her up. That’s just under half her lifetime! She’s believed in her heart and soul for over a decade that I betrayed her in the worst possible way. And why would she ever get such an absurd idea if they hadn’t planted it? So in essence I was betrayed by guys I considered friends. I can’t fathom any of my college friends doing such a sick, twisted thing. And to set me up? This is all insanity. It’s like something out of a goddamn soap opera. Shit like this doesn’t happen in real life. Only it is happening. To me. To Gracie.”
Eliza blew out her breath. “I don’t know what to tell you, Zack. I wish I did. I wish I could make this all better for you.”
“I just want to talk to her, to explain. To have an opportunity to make her trust me again.” He broke off and hesitated before saying the last. “To make her love me again,” he whispered. He lifted his gaze to Eliza’s once more. “I’m an idiot. Go ahead and say it. What kind of moron remains in love with his high school and college sweetheart for twelve years?”
“There aren’t any rules when it comes to love,” Eliza said softly. “Unfortunately we don’t always get to pick who we love or how long we love. Love is . . . inexplicable. It can fuck you up and tie you in knots, or so people say. Can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure, nor can I say I’m very sorry about that. Seems like loving someone is opening oneself to all kind of pain. No thanks.”
Eliza’s nose wrinkled in distaste and in that moment Zack wholeheartedly agreed with her. Love sucked. Love made you entirely too vulnerable and it gave far too much power over yourself to someone else.
Zack’s cell rang and he glanced down, pulling it from his pocket to see Beau’s name and number flash on the LCD screen.
/> “Hey, man,” Zack greeted lamely, knowing he sounded like a man for whom talking on the phone was the very last thing he wanted right now.
“Got everything worked out for you and Gracie. Untraceable residence. Fully stocked and completely secured. Once you and Gracie get settled, at least two of our guys will be stationed at watch on the premises with a third making periodic drive-bys. I also called in a favor with HPD and they’re going to add you to their routine patrols around the clock.”
“They may not want to do me a favor for long,” Zack muttered.
If Gracie launched her accusations against Zack to the two detectives, he might well find himself behind bars and then extradited back to Tennessee, where this entire sordid mess began.
“What was that?” Beau asked.
“Nothing. Continue on. I need to get back to Gracie,” he lied.
“Any idea when they’re discharging her?”
A jolt of panic blew through Zack. He wasn’t ready for her to be discharged. She’d freak over going home with him. But at the same time maybe that’s precisely what he needed. Time alone with her to convince her of his innocence. Provided she didn’t scream the walls down around him and get him arrested for kidnapping.
Maybe he should rethink having Eliza stay with him and Gracie or even bring Gracie to Eliza’s place.
He sighed, closing his eyes.
“No. I wouldn’t think they’d discharge her any sooner than tomorrow afternoon. She’s pretty banged up and she looks like hell.”
“We’re working on this around the clock, Zack,” Beau said, his voice serious. “No stone is being left unturned. We will nail these bastards. No matter what it takes.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
He hesitated before bringing up what was weighing most heavily on his mind. He almost didn’t confide in Beau, but Beau was solid. The closest thing Zack had to a best friend after most of his life had been in solitude and self-exile. He’d grieved for Gracie for years and he’d purposely closed himself off from other people. He hadn’t allowed anyone close. Not until he came to work for the Devereauxs. And, well, Eliza knew, so it followed that the others would know soon enough as well, though he doubted Eliza would break his confidence.
“I need your help with something else too.”
“Anything, man. You know that. Name it.”
Zack put a hand to the back of his neck and glanced at Eliza, who sent him a look of support, as if she knew exactly what it was he was going to talk to Beau about.
“I need some discreet digging done on some people back home in Tennessee. Old . . . friends of mine.”
He nearly choked on the words. Hatred consumed him. He’d never before knew what it was like to hate as much as he hated the people who’d done this to Gracie. He shook with rage, could barely see through the haze of fury clouding his vision.
“Okay. What am I looking for here, Zack?”
Beau’s voice had gone somber, as though he sensed the importance of Zack’s request.
Praying he didn’t break down over the phone with his partner, he quietly recounted everything that Sterling had told him earlier.
At the end there was a shocked, prolonged silence. Zack could well picture Beau’s open mouth as he put together all the information Zack had just given him.
After a long pause, Beau, in a raised voice, said, “What the fuck?”
Zack could hear him seething through the phone and could easily imagine Beau’s big body bristling with anger.
“That’s insane!” Beau sputtered out, before Zack could offer anything further. “Jesus, that’s just . . . crazy! She believes that? She honestly believes that horse shit?”
Again, Zack closed his eyes as weariness—and relief—blew over him. It was nice to have unconditional trust from the people he worked with. Not only worked with but considered close friends. His only friends, ironically, since parting ways with the group of “friends” back home. The same group of guys he still kept up with. The same fucking assholes who’d destroyed his and Gracie’s lives. The same men who had horribly abused the woman he loved.
“She believes it,” Zack said quietly. “She gets hysterical every time she sees me.”
“Shit. I’m sorry, man. That has to suck. What are you going to do?”
“Somehow convince her that I had nothing to do with her rape,” Zack said quietly. “It’s all I can do. And in the meantime, I need to do whatever I can to dig up the truth so I can get justice for Gracie. For me. For . . . us. And for all the time we lost.”
SEVENTEEN
ZACK fidgeted and impatiently paced the hallway in front of Gracie’s door. He checked his watch for the sixth time and blew out his breath. It had been an hour since the police had arrived to question Gracie. What the fuck was taking so long? He hated being out here, out of the loop, like he didn’t figure prominently in Gracie’s life or well-being.
She might not want him in any loop, but Zack wasn’t backing down and he damn sure wasn’t walking away from Gracie, even if that was what she repeatedly demanded. Maybe it made him a complete bastard. Maybe he should comply with her wishes and disappear. It was obvious his presence was causing her extreme emotional distress.
But damn it, he just couldn’t do that. He couldn’t let her go without a fight. He had to find a way to make her believe that he hadn’t done this terrible thing. If only she could read his mind.
He stopped his pacing and froze.
Eliza immediately picked up on the change in mood because she approached him, concern mirroring in her eyes.