by Maya Banks
“What is it, Zack?”
He huffed out his breath, remembering Gracie’s emotional tirade. That she couldn’t read minds anymore, that she wouldn’t even if she could. She’d said he’d taken that from her too. What the hell had she meant by that? It was the simplest solution. If only she would reach into his mind, then she’d know the hell he’d been through the last twelve years. She’d know that he’d spent more than a decade searching for answers—for her. And she’d damn sure know that he had nothing to do with her rape, that he would die before ever hurting her.
“Do you remember, when all that shit was going down with Ari, when I said that I used to know someone who read minds?” he asked quietly.
Her brow furrowed in thought, and she was silent for a moment, as if trying to recall the incident. Then her eyes flashed in recognition as she evidently remembered his long-ago statement.
“Yeah, I remember. But you never expounded. I’d forgotten all about it, to be honest.”
“I was talking about Gracie. She could read minds. I know it sounds crazy, but you of all people shouldn’t have a problem believing it. I mean after Ramie and Ari and all the crazy assignments we’ve had.”
Eliza’s features bunched into confusion. “But Zack, if she can read minds, then surely . . .”
“Yeah, I know,” Zack said, cutting her off in midsentence. “The second time I saw her, in the art studio when she lost her shit and freaked out. When she was so terrified of me and hinted about this horrible thing I did. I told her to read my mind. It would be so simple, right? I told her to read my mind if she had any doubt, that she’d quickly know the truth and that whatever the hell she thought I’d done, she’d know I didn’t!”
Eliza continued to look puzzled. “So did she? You’re right in that if she truly has that ability it would be a simple solution. Then she wouldn’t be on the other side of this door scared out of her mind and upset over the idea of being in the same room with you. Obviously she didn’t—or couldn’t—otherwise she’d know, right? Why didn’t she, Zack? Wouldn’t she want to know the truth?”
Zack dragged a hand through his hair. “She told me she couldn’t. She said even if she could she wouldn’t. Then she said that I took that from her as well, and that it was the only thing she could ever thank me for. What the hell did she mean by she ‘can’t’? She made mention of never wanting to read anyone’s mind again. Said something about people being evil.”
Eliza’s eyes and expression were troubled. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound good. I think you should start there. Find out how or why she lost this ability. And you’re sure she was the real deal? I mean, was it something she claimed to be able to do or do you know for a fact she could?”
“Oh she was the real deal,” Zack said softly. “She hid it from everyone but me. She was terrified of what would happen if people knew. That she’d be treated like a freak and that she’d be a social pariah. You have to understand. Gracie lacked self-confidence. She was intensely shy and her self-esteem wasn’t the greatest. Her ability to read minds is what made her believe in my feelings.”
He broke off with a harsh laugh.
“Amazing, huh? She was able to read me like a book. She knew, and was confident in the fact, that I loved her. That what I felt for her was genuine. Her ability to read minds is what convinced her that I wasn’t fucking around with her or just trying to get into her pants. God, we waited. I never made love to her. She was too young and I thought we had all the time in the world. She would have given herself to me. She trusted me and believed absolutely that I loved her. But I wanted to wait. I didn’t want it to ever be in question that I, at twenty years old, took advantage of a sixteen-year-old girl. So it was my decision to wait. I wanted our wedding night to be special. It was a big deal to me that I would be her first—and only. That I would be the only man who ever made love to her.”
He broke off and covered his face with his hands.
“God,” he said, his words muffled by his hands. “Her first time was horrific, violent, painful. Nothing like what I had planned. I wanted it to be tender, exquisite, loving. To be the ultimate expression of my love for her. Instead her virginity was brutally torn from her by fucking animals.”
Eliza’s arms went around him, circling his waist as she leaned in and pressed her cheek to his chest. She simply held him as his body heaved with emotion. He wanted to cry like a damn baby. He wanted to weep for all that he’d lost, all that Gracie had endured—and lost. And for what they could never get back.
“So she was able to read minds—your mind—and now she can’t?”
Eliza’s tone was skeptical. Zack found it hard to believe, himself. Or was she simply refusing to open herself up to more potential hurt? Maybe she was afraid to confirm her accusations. Maybe she couldn’t handle having her worst suspicions proved true.
No, that couldn’t be. Gracie had always been able to read every part of him. His deepest, dearest feelings. She knew the heart of him—had always known it. And she’d known he was utterly sincere in his love for her. She’d laughingly told him that being able to see his love for her was the best possible gift. That she never had to doubt because all she had to do was open her mind to his and his love for her flooded her heart, mind and soul.
And yet, despite being witness to his innermost thoughts, seeing the depth—and sincerity—of his feelings, knowing he loved her with all his heart, she honestly believed that he had taken part in something so horrific? That he was capable of doing such a thing to any woman, much less a girl he adored . . . How could she think such a thing for even a moment?
He was growing angrier by the minute. He’d been shocked. Devastated. Completely unhinged. Destroyed when he’d discovered the shocking truth. But now, after fully digesting it all, after the initial numbness had worn off, he was angry. No, not angry. Pissed.
He’d given her everything. His heart, his soul. She knew how much he loved her. So how the fuck could she, even for a goddamn minute, believe, honestly believe that he would have three of his friends horrifically violate her?
What kind of sick fuck did she think he was? And how . . . how could she possibly claim to have loved him if she was so willing to believe—to accept—that he had done this terrible thing?
He felt as betrayed as she believed herself to be. It didn’t make any goddamn sense.
“I’m pissed, Lizzie. God help me. I know it’s probably all kinds of fucked-up, but I am so goddamn pissed that I want to put my fist through a wall. How could she believe it? How could she have so little faith in me that she believes I did this to her?”
“I understand,” Eliza murmured. “I wish to hell there was something, anything I could do to help. This is so twisted and fucked-up. I mean I’ve never come across something like this, and believe me when I say, I thought I’d pretty much seen it all.”
Zack squeezed her tighter in his embrace. “Thanks for that. I feel so guilty for being angry, but goddamn it! It all goes back to how she could possibly think that I would do this. She knew me better than anyone!”
Eliza pulled, lifting serious, somber eyes to his. “There’s something missing here, Zack. Something we aren’t aware of yet. Something huge. Until you know what that missing piece of the puzzle is, nothing is going to make sense. Hopefully she’ll open up to you. So the two of you can talk and make peace with the past. Neither of you will ever be able to put this behind you until everything is revealed.”
“I just wish I knew what that was,” Zack muttered. “She’s not exactly giving me much. I only found out about what happened because of Sterling. I don’t think Gracie would have ever told me. And now I don’t know what to do. Do I pretend I don’t know what happened? Do I play dumb and wait for when or if Gracie opts to confide in me? Or do I confront her with what I know and demand to know why she’s so convinced that I had a part in it?”
“That’s a hard one,” Eliza admitted. “I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe you should play it cool, for
a little while at least. Get her to trust—and confide—in you. Then go from there. But if she continues to shut you out and won’t acknowledge or talk to you then I think you have to address the situation with the information you got from Sterling. Because the problem is, even though she eventually confided in him, she didn’t say a whole lot. He didn’t have much to offer other than she was raped by your friends at your instigation. She didn’t tell him how or why she ‘knows’ you were involved. It sounds to me like she told him very little about the whole thing.”
Zack grimaced. “If I push her, that makes me a huge dick. If I lay off, I’ll never find out the truth. So either way I lose.”
“Maybe not,” Eliza murmured. “It’s not going to be easy, hon. But if you prove to her that you can be trusted, if you’re there for her every single day, then eventually she’ll relax and let down some of her guard. If she isn’t willing to confide in you relatively quickly then I do think you have to come clean with her and tell her what you know. Maybe that will be the impetus for her to tell the entire story. Not the abbreviated version she gave Wade. At some point she has to let it all out. It’s been festering inside her for twelve years. And in that time, if she hasn’t ever confided in anyone or dealt with her demons on her own, then sooner or later she’s going to break. It won’t be pretty. And she’s going to need you more than ever.”
“If I have my way, she won’t ever be alone again,” Zack said quietly.
The door opened, and the two detectives stepped into the hallway, glancing down as if looking for Zack. Zack hurried toward them, his expression seeking.
“Did you get any leads whatsoever?” Zack asked.
Detective Briggs scowled. “No. Unfortunately we don’t have much at all. I think you’ll be of much more help than Miss Hill. It sounds like she was just an innocent woman who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a crime of opportunity.”
Zack tried to keep the murderous rage from his features. But it was hard.
“It’s an opportunity that they won’t ever have again,” he said tightly.
“Can we walk down to the cafeteria and get a cup of coffee?” Ramirez asked. “My partner and I have a lot of questions for you and Ms. Cummings.” He nodded his acknowledgment of Eliza and the fact he remembered her name.
“Yeah, we fucked up, guys,” Eliza huffed out as though it pained her to admit DSS’s shortcomings. “After last time, these assholes just fell off the radar and Beau and Ari were only too glad to put it all behind them. With the complete annihilation of their compound and Ari taking out most of their men, we wrongfully assumed they were no longer an issue. They’re obviously out there waiting and watching, wanting payback.”
Briggs nodded. “Let’s find a more comfortable place to talk. I’ll need about an hour of your time.”
Zack hesitated. He glanced back toward the room, but Sterling hadn’t come out yet.
“How was Gracie when you finished?” he asked the two detectives in a quiet voice.
“Upset,” Ramirez said truthfully. “Scared. Confused. She summoned the nurse when we were finished. She was in quite a lot of pain.”
“Give me just a minute,” Zack murmured. “I just want to check in on her before we go down to the cafeteria. I have to make sure Sterling can stay with her so she isn’t alone until Eliza and I return.”
The detectives nodded and Zack stepped away. He eased the door open, peering in at the bed where Gracie lay, Sterling still standing at her bedside.
Sterling’s gaze lifted and turned toward the door when he heard it open. Zack sent him an inquiring look, asking without words how Gracie was. Sterling grimaced and shook his head at Zack, clearly indicating he shouldn’t come in.
I’ll stay.
Sterling mouthed the words to Zack. Zack stood there a long moment, warring with himself over what he should do. Finally he nodded and retreated from the room, closing the door behind him.
Tomorrow Gracie would be going home. They would be in forced proximity soon enough. Until the time he could bring her to his home, where for all practical purposes she would be a captive audience, he would force himself to be patient. This was the most important thing he’d ever do in his life and he couldn’t afford to fuck it up and lose her forever.
EIGHTEEN
ANNA-GRACE emitted a soft groan as she tried to sit up in the bed. It took forever to move her legs to the edge so she could slide off and plant her feet on the floor.
Once she managed that feat, she stood for several long seconds, grasping the bed rail tightly as she swayed. When the spinning around her abated somewhat, she carefully let go of the rail and tested her balance.
Other than the protests from her bruised, stiff muscles and the fractured ribs, she was fairly steady on her feet.
She took a step, wincing at the effort it took. Then another. God, at this pace it would take her forever to walk out of here. How on earth would she get past people charged with ensuring she stayed? But they couldn’t force her compliance, could they? Surely it wasn’t legal.
All she knew was that if she stayed, Zack would kidnap her from the hospital and bring her home with him. He’d told her that’s what was going to happen. And why? So he could protect her from the animals who’d attacked her? Who the hell was going to protect her from him?
The idea of being alone with him scared her. It should scare her. And yet, there was something about him. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Maybe it was the genuine confusion on his face when she spoke of the past.
She shook her head, refusing to even go there, and promptly regretted the action. The room swayed and the floor seemed to reach up and swallow her. She promptly closed her eyes and sucked in deep breaths through her nose.
“Damn it, Gracie. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Her eyelids fluttered open, and she saw Zack standing right in front of her, concern burning brightly in his eyes. She stiffened when he reached out to steady her, but his grasp was infinitely gentle.
With complete tenderness, he started to guide her back to the bed, but she dug in her heels and put a hand up to stop him.
He frowned, but it was more in worry than displeasure. His gaze swept over her, taking in every detail, every bruise and hurt.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” she said in a low, embarrassed voice.
It was true. Yes, she had planned to leave, but not before making a much-needed trip to the bathroom. And in hindsight, she’d been stupid to think she could manage the task of escaping on her own. Better to wait and ask Wade to help. God, where was he? Why wasn’t he here?
Zack’s features softened and then he slid his arm around her waist and anchored her to his body.
“Here, hold on to me,” he said. “I’ll help you. Why didn’t you call the nurse?”
She flushed as a surge of guilt swept over her. Then she was disgusted with herself. Why should she feel guilt? So what if she’d planned to leave without him ever knowing? Yes, she’d planned to disappear, and if possible never see Zack again. It hurt too much to look at him and think of all that could never be. Of what used to be and what she lost.
A different kind of hurt assaulted her. More aching and piercing than the worst bruises she suffered. For so long she’d shut herself off from pain, betrayal, of feeling anything at all. Her life had been hollow. Devoid of any emotion. Because allowing herself to feel was opening herself up to a lifetime of pain and regret.
A sob welled in her chest, in the deepest part of her soul, and she quickly stuffed it down, forcing the cold nothingness that she kept herself permanently enveloped in to come back. She couldn’t allow a single crack. No opportunity for past hurts and betrayals to haunt her.
It was far better to feel nothing at all.
“Gracie? Are you all right?”
Zack’s worried, anxious voice jerked her from her self-battle. She blinked to see that they were standing just inside the bathroom.
“Do you need help?”
Zack asked gently.
Heat stained her cheeks. She was mortified. She shook her head even as she pushed him away.
“I’ll be fine,” she said firmly.
He cast her a doubtful look but didn’t argue, thank God. Nor did he insist on leaving the door open.
“I’ll be right outside. Holler if you need me,” he said softly.
She’d die before ever asking him for anything.
As she slowly and painfully completed her business, her mind raced with how to get rid of Zack. She would ask Wade for help. He was her friend—her only friend. But maybe she’d been a fool to trust him. The first person she’d trusted or remotely allowed close to her since . . . Zack.
If only she’d been awake when Wade left. She could have immediately left and been gone before Zack returned. She should have known better. Not only Zack, but people from his security company, not to mention hospital guards and the police were a constant presence.
She was being released in the morning and then Zack would take her to God knows where and she had no idea what her chances of escape would be. Just how long did he intend to keep her barricaded—prisoner—in whatever place he was taking her to?
Being forced to be in his presence—alone—for an undetermined length of time was the cruelest of punishments. And what had she done?
Tears burned her eyelids like acid. She rubbed furiously at them, trying to alleviate any sign that she’d been crying. Zack’s discerning eye didn’t miss much, and he’d pick up on it right away.
She wouldn’t cry. She refused to let him make her cry again. She’d spent weeks and months doing nothing but crying, mourning the loss of something truly magical. But she had been just a girl. Sixteen. She hadn’t known better. Now, at twenty-eight, she was beyond girlish infatuation. No longer did she dream of happily ever after. She’d learned the hard way that there was no such thing.
She closed the toilet seat cover and then sank down onto it, burying her face in her hands. Maybe if she stayed in here long enough Wade would return and she wouldn’t be alone with Zack.
If that made her a coward, she could certainly live with that. She couldn’t even look at him without it nearly destroying her. She’d truly thought she’d put her past behind her. Until Zack had appeared very unexpectedly in the gallery and again in the studio. In just a few seconds, everything she’d done to survive the last twelve years had unraveled.
Twelve years of numbing herself to heartbreaking pain and sorrow. And grief.
Because even though she hated Zack for what he did, she still grieved for that sixteen-year-old girl dreaming of forever. She’d mourned the loss of innocence and of believing there was good in the world.
Ironically her horrible childhood hadn’t defeated her, having no father, having an alcoholic mother who hadn’t even remembered Anna-Grace’s existence for the most part, much less that she was her daughter.
Anna-Grace should have been accustomed to people leaving her. Of being betrayed. But not even her mother running out on her and then Anna-Grace being shuttled to her mother’s brother, also an alcoholic, and who was verbally and physically abusive, had been able to knock her down.
And when her uncle had died, leaving her homeless, Zack had come and taken Anna-Grace away.
Zack had very much wanted to move Anna-Grace in with him, but he’d known and had lamented the fact that his father despised her. It seemed no one in the world had cared if Anna-Grace lived or died. Except . . . Zack.
He’d even wanted to move in to the tiny motel room he’d found for Anna-Grace so she wouldn’t be alone, but his father had hit the roof. Zack himself hadn’t cared, but his father had threatened to withhold his financial support, which would interfere with him going to the University of Tennessee.
Again, Zack hadn’t cared. He threatened not to go to college at all, which only served to infuriate his father even more. It was only when Anna-Grace had pleaded with him to stay at home, make peace with his father and go to school that Zack had reluctantly capitulated.
He’d hated that Anna-Grace had been alone, had lived alone and had no one to look out for her. He’d tried to find a way to move her to Knoxville with him so she’d be close to him at school. So he’d never even have to come home on weekends or breaks.
But finding a place they could afford had been impossible, and there was no way for her to get to school unless Zack drove her to and from it, and with football practice that was impossible.
Anna-Grace hadn’t minded the solitude of living at the motel with only the elderly caretakers for periodic company. For the most part, she’d done her job quietly and efficiently. The kindly couple who managed the motel and restaurant had even offered to drive Anna-Grace to school every day.
But the best times had been when Zack came home from school. They didn’t get out much. He helped her with cleaning the rooms so she’d finish early in the day and then they’d spend the afternoon and evening in her little room watching the tiny television, snuggled up together on the twin bed. Dreaming of the future. Making plans for when Anna-Grace completed high school and Zack was drafted to the pros.
He’d promised her the world, but she had only wanted one thing. Him. His love.
And in the end, none of it had been real.
Despite her best efforts, a tear slid hotly down her cheek. Instead of wiping it away, she drew up her knees, wrapped her arms around her legs and buried her face against her thighs as more tears fell.
She should hate him. But despite saying so, despite the fact that she should utterly despise him, she was still in love with the boy she once knew. She grieved the loss of a dream as if he had truly died. And in essence he had. Because the young man she’d loved as she would never love another would never have done something so horrific.
What had caused him to turn on her? Had he met someone at college?
What he’d done was insane! Most people simply broke up with their girlfriend and moved on without thought or remorse. His actions implied a deep and abiding . . . hatred. As if he’d wanted her to pay for and suffer for some unforgivable sin.
What could she possibly have done to make him despise her so much that he would go to such great lengths to retaliate?
And why did he now so violently deny having done anything wrong and pretend his innocence? Did he fear reprisal? Or did he merely seek to undermine her and make it appear that she was crazy and delusional?
How could he seem so . . . sincere . . . in his claim of having searched for