by Maya Banks
NINE
WADE was so stunned that all he could do was haul Eliza’s shaking body against his own, anchoring himself so they both didn’t end up on the floor. Any and all thoughts of giving her a blistering outburst of just what he thought of her disappearance instantly fled, because she looked as though she was on the verge of completely shattering.
If she hadn’t already. And judging by what he’d just witnessed, he’d say she was already beyond shattered. She was broken. Something painful and vicious twisted in his gut, tightening his chest as fury rolled over him like a tidal wave. Not at her but at whatever the fuck had done this to the strongest, most infuriating, solid, selfless woman he’d ever known.
Sudden guilt—another unfamiliar emotion—hit him hard as he remembered hurling accusations at Eliza. Selfish. Bitch. Ungrateful. Hurting Gracie by distancing herself. He should have known—he had known—that she wasn’t capable of those things. He should have known that her acting so out of character meant something was very wrong.
She was huddled in his arms curling into the smallest possible ball, as if she wanted to disappear all together, but what threatened to totally unhinge him was the fact that tears were streaking down her face as her body heaved with violent, silent sobs. She was shaking so hard that it took all his strength just to maintain his already rock hard hold on her.
He thought he’d been prepared this time. After the shock of their last meeting when he’d seen panic and vulnerability and lastly fear in her eyes, he hadn’t thought it could get any worse. But Eliza curled into his arms, her fragility broadcasting in intense waves and tears running in never-ending streams, soaking his shirt, depriving him of all rational thought. Even his pulse stuttered, pain shooting through his chest as he witnessed the heartbreaking sight of this beautiful, strong woman in fragmented shards of utter despair.
Nostrils flaring, his head came up, his eyes narrowed in rage. He kicked the door shut and then swept Eliza into the only room in the house that didn’t have a window. He needed to get her to a secure location immediately, but his first priority had to be . . .
Fuck! He’d never felt so helpless in his life. He couldn’t deny that he’d savored the thought of, and had fantasized about how it would feel, when she was finally in his arms, her softness melded to his body, but never at this high a price. Not this way.
Broken. Fucking broken and in so many pieces that he feared he couldn’t put her back together.
Eyes so dull and a look of hopelessness he’d never imagined seeing on Eliza’s face.
He wanted her in his goddamn arms because she wanted to be there and because the fierce battle of wills between them erupted and desire they both felt was acted on. Not because there was nowhere else for her to go and because he happened to be present at the precise moment she fell apart.
In no way could he remain aloof and purposely antagonize her and act the part he’d played for the last months. He sank down on the small sofa that lined an inside wall and tenderly enfolded her once more into his embrace, but even taking care to be gentle, his grip was fierce and unyielding, giving her no choice of escaping.
“Shhh, Eliza,” he whispered, his lips pressed to her hair. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything hurt you. If you believe nothing else, know that I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”
She clenched his shirt, balling it along with her fingers into a fist and buried her face in his neck, the heated moisture of her tears wet against his skin. It was as though months, years, a lifetime of fear, stress, pressure had broken free after being so tightly restrained. She shuddered, her entire body violently shaking with the force of her sobs, and yet the silence was so eerie that it unnerved him. Her tears were wet against his neck where her face was still firmly planted, her hold on him as fierce as his was on her.
It was obvious she’d disciplined herself to hold it back, to never allow anyone to see beyond her meticulously constructed barriers, that even in grief, the strength of her self-imposed will refused to allow her to make a sound. Worse was the thought of her never having anyone to lean on, because he couldn’t imagine her ever exposing so much of herself even to her teammates. People she trusted. And obviously not even Dane, because Dane was merely “worried” and had no fucking clue just how serious the situation was.
He trailed his lips over the top of her hair until they touched her clammy forehead and he nuzzled to her temple, murmuring soothing sounds because he was helpless as to what else to do other than let her know she wasn’t alone. And her tears. God, her tears cut into him like a knife and twisted his heart in a way he’d never experienced.
“Baby, you’re breaking my heart,” he whispered against her skin.
And she was. His heart felt as though it were about to burst out of his chest. He felt every single sob to the depths of his soul. Each time her shoulders heaved, it was like a fist to his gut.
He tensed when she lifted her head, fearing she’d try to bolt, but she slowly leaned back so her troubled gaze met his. He flinched at the raw grief reflected in her eyes. Jesus. What the hell had she been living with and for how long? Did this have anything to do with her abduction and torture? No, his gut told him this went much deeper, went much further back, which meant she’d carried her burden for God only knew how long. And that made the hole in his heart even larger.
She closed her eyes and a fresh trail of tears slipped down her cheeks that cut him to the bone. He maneuvered his body so that she was still in his arms but so he could frame her face, his palms brushing over wet skin.
“Eliza, talk to me. It’s obvious you won’t talk to the people you love and trust, so talk to someone who doesn’t matter. Talk to me. But for God’s sake you have to let go of whatever poison is festering inside you or it’s going to consume you for good.”
“It already has,” she whispered.
He almost didn’t hear her faint response and when it registered, his pulse stuttered. Sweat broke out on his forehead at the finality and defeat in her words. Eliza wasn’t prone to dramatics or overreactions. She called it like she saw it and she wasn’t a whiner or a complainer. Hell, he’d never met a woman in his life who was as determined as she was to demonstrate no weakness whatsoever, which is why this outburst was scaring the shit out of him, because she’d die before ever allowing that whispered admission to pass her lips.
And the resignation in her voice when she’d finally spoken?
A chill snaked down his spine, an odd contrast to the sweat on his brow. Because Eliza’s subdued, dull tone was the sound of someone who’d already given up. Had accepted the inevitable—whatever that was for her. And he’d already figured out that she’d run like hell from Houston, not because she didn’t trust her partners, but because she was protecting the people she loved, which meant whatever the hell was going on was serious trouble. The kind of trouble she was willing to sacrifice herself for to protect the people who mattered to her.
DSS had dismantled the entire organization that had done so much damage to so many lives, particularly to the women who belonged to DSS. And Wade, damn it. The game was over. He was staking his claim—had already staked it. Eliza was his and he’d take on the devil himself before ever allowing her to be hurt again. So if the bastards who’d tortured and then nearly killed her in the raid had been taken down and no longer posed a threat, then who the fuck was threatening her now? And if those twisted, sadistic motherfuckers hadn’t scared her and made her back down then whatever was going on now wasn’t good. It was the absolute worst kind of bad. Because this went way back if his instincts were right, and his gut never led him wrong. Eliza was fearless. Too fearless for her own damn good, and nothing scared or intimidated her. Until now.
If those fuckheads hadn’t managed to intimidate Eliza and she’d gone after them like a ferocious guard dog after being tortured and fucking waterboarded, then what the hell could be worse that terrified her to this degree?
Eliza sagged and she was still t
rembling. Lines of fatigue etched her face, causing him to wonder if she’d even slept since the last time he’d seen her. For that matter it was likely she hadn’t slept before the last time he’d seen her. She felt fragile in his arms and she was not a fragile woman. He doubted she’d even eaten because he could feel the weight she’d lost. Her fatigue beat at him. It was evident in her eyes, her face, her body.
This worried him and he was not a worrier. He didn’t fear anything and had long ago accepted that what will be will be, but the cold hand of terror gripped him by the throat and he realized he wasn’t just afraid. He was fucking terrified. He couldn’t fight what he couldn’t see, touch or know and, by God, he was going to find out what the fuck had Eliza scared out of her mind before the day was over.
“We’re getting the hell out of here,” Wade said firmly. “And after we get the fuck out of this shithole where I can be assured you’re safe, you’re going to tell me what the hell is going on, and I mean everything, Eliza. And during this conversation, you’re going to eat even if I have to hold you down and force it down your throat. Then you’re going to get some rest because it’s obvious you haven’t slept in weeks.”
Her chin went up but the gesture lacked its usual tenacity.
“You’re leaving, Wade,” she said dully. “Not me. I won’t be responsible for another death. Never again. I have so much blood on my hands that they’ll never come clean and I’ll be damned if I’ll add yours. You have to leave and forget I even exist. You don’t know me. You’ve never met me. You forget everything about me.”
His temper flared and he was furious that she was so damned determined to protect him. What the hell? There were so many what-the-fuck parts of her impassioned statement, he didn’t even know where to start. Blood on her hands? Only because he feared pushing her completely over the edge did he bite his tongue and not tear into her right then and there and demand answers to the dozens of questions festering in his mind. Reasoning wasn’t going to work with her. That was obvious even before her falling apart moments ago. He’d seen her lack of rationale when she’d sped away from her apartment, leaving him sprawled on her concrete drive.
He didn’t have time to take it slow and treat her with the soft touch he wanted so badly, and after hearing the fucked-up shit she’d just spouted, he had a lot of fucking questions he wanted answers to, but his first and only priority at the moment was ensuring her safety. So he did what it was he did best. He took matters into his own hands.
Before she could say or do anything further, he tightened his arms around her and abruptly stood and strode toward the front door.
“What the hell!” she yelled, slamming her fist into his chest.
Thank God. This was the Eliza he recognized. She wasn’t too far gone. Yet. And he had to bear that in mind and handle her with care even while giving her no choice in anything.
“Shut up,” he clipped out. “You’re going with me and if I have to handcuff your wrist to mine, swear to God, I’ll do it.”
Her gaze turned pleading and that really pissed him off because she didn’t ever ask for anything. And she damn sure didn’t beg and everything about her expression, her eyes, was begging and he was so goddamn furious he wanted to put his fist through a wall.
“Wade, please,” she said, her tone turning urgent. Desperation fired in her eyes. And panic. He could literally see the wheels turning in her mind as she scrambled to figure her way out of the situation.
Four times. Four times now she’d used his name and he liked it a hell of a lot but not under the circumstances she’d used it. He wanted her to call him Wade because they were on more intimate terms, not because she was desperate, scared and falling apart. Let her try to figure a way out of him inserting himself into her situation. She was stubborn but he was more so. She could rack her brains all she wanted.
Too bad. He could still be gentle. A gentle asshole and get to the bottom of this mess. She could hate him all she wanted just as long as she was alive to do it.
“You have no idea what you’re getting into,” she said in a terrified voice that only served to add fuel to an already raging inferno within him. “He’ll kill you, Wade. You should have never come here! If you had just stayed in Houston, he would never have known you had any association with me. I can’t let any more people die because of me. I can’t.”
Her despair gutted him and he had to steady himself, be the jerk and run over her when she was at rock bottom when all he really wanted was just to hold her and comfort her. Treat her with the delicate touch she deserved, a touch he craved to render. But not at the expense of her life and no fucking way would she sacrifice herself for him. Did she honest to God think for one fucking minute that he’d hide behind her and let her take the fall for him? She didn’t know him very well if that was the case, but he was going to remedy that in short order.
He clenched his teeth and lowered her feet to the ground beside the vehicle he’d parked in the back so she wouldn’t see it right away. Without saying a word, he shackled one of her wrists with a firm grip while he opened the passenger door with his other hand.
When she began to struggle, he hauled her up against his tall frame, his arms a steel band around her slim waist.
“Don’t fight me, Eliza,” he said tersely. “You won’t win, and I’m not backing down. Someone has to protect you because you sure as hell aren’t. And if you think I’m going to allow you to be a sacrificial lamb led meekly to slaughter in order to protect everyone else, get over it quick because it ain’t going to happen. Now, what is going to happen, is that I’m taking you some place safe and you’re going to eat and then you and I are going to have a long talk after which you’re going to get some fucking sleep. I’ll sedate your ass if I have to, so don’t push me because I’m hanging on to my temper by a very thin thread.”
She opened her mouth and he promptly clamped his hand over it and proceeded to shove her into the vehicle. Using his arm across her body to hold her in place, he reached with his other hand into the glove compartment and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened in dismay.
“Surely you didn’t think I was bluffing, Eliza. Come on. You should know me better than that. When have I ever made hollow threats?”
He secured one cuff to her left wrist and then attached it to the center console. Then he withdrew, leaving her looking shell-shocked and so damn defeated that it took everything he had not to lose his shit right then and there. He stalked around to the driver’s side sucking in deep breaths, trying to pull himself together as he slid into the driver’s seat.
He wasted no time putting as much distance between the place she’d been staying and where he was taking her. To his surprise, she said nothing. She was completely still, her gaze rigidly fixed forward, her jaw clenched tight.
A sigh of relief nearly escaped him. At least she was no longer crying. He could deal with surly, pissed off Eliza. He had no idea what to do with fragile as an eggshell Eliza. A tearful, vulnerable, scared out of her mind Eliza. He was furious, not at her, or at least mostly not at her, but with what or who had put such fear in her eyes, who had broken one of the strongest women he’d ever known.
Taking advantage of her momentary silence, and to try to calm his murderous thoughts, he picked up his cell and punched the contact already brought up and waiting.
“This is Sterling,” he bit out. “We’re coming in hot and I have no fucking idea what we’re dealing with yet, so make damn sure the safe house is secure and I want extra security on around-the-clock surveillance. No one and I mean no one gets within a mile without us knowing, and any threat is to be dealt with immediately.”
“You got it,” Derek said shortly and then the line went dead.
Wade’s men, like himself, were short on words and big on results.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw her staring at him, a mixture of bewilderment and a complete what-the-fuck look on her face. He nearly smiled. That had got
ten her attention.
“Who the hell are you?” Eliza whispered.
“The man who’s going to keep your ass alive and make damn sure no one so much as touches a hair on your head. Except me.”
She yanked her cuffed wrist angrily, her cheeks puffing outward as she blew out her rage. Good. He needed her pissed off. Alive. Fighting. Anything but the defeated, resigned to her fate woman who’d fallen apart on him.
Then she banged the back of her head against the headrest and closed her eyes, letting out another long sigh.
“God, why do you even care?” she hissed. “Why are you here? You’ve made it very clear that I rate lower than scum in your estimation, so why the sudden concern?”
“It’s a habit I seem to have gotten into,” he said mildly. “Saving your ass. At the rate you’re going, it’s going to be a full-time job.”
She whipped her head around and glared at him. “Get it through your head, Sterling. I am none of your business. What I do or don’t do isn’t any of your business. You have no right to hold me against my will.”
He shrugged. So it was back to Sterling. Good, in the manner that for the moment she’d regained the fire he was so well acquainted with. Bad, because he liked the sound of his first name on her lips. He liked it a lot. He’d like it even better when they were in bed and he was deep inside her.
“I don’t really give a fuck what you think, Eliza. Get that through your head. You’re not getting rid of me, so get over it. Maybe we should call Dane and get his opinion. What do you think? I’m sure he’d be interested in your choice of vacation destination.”
The color leeched from her face and for a moment he thought she was going to pass out. Fuck. Yeah, this was as bad as it got. He’d been ninety-nine percent sure that Dane had no fucking clue what was going on with Eliza, and with that reaction, the one percent still out for jury made it unanimous.
“You can’t,” she whispered. “Wade, please. You don’t understand. He will kill every single one of them. Are you hearing what I’m saying? Because I’m not making this shit up. I’m not exaggerating nor am I overreacting. Anyone and I mean anyone I care about, anyone who has had any part of my life in the last ten years will die. I am the only one who can stop that from happening. You have no idea what he’s capable of. If you call Dane, then they’ll all rush up here and go straight to their graves. But it won’t end there. He’ll go after Ramie, Ari and Gracie. And I’ll die before I let that happen. Do you want Gracie to die because you’re being an interfering asshole?”
Wade laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Have you lost your mind? Do you honestly think this asshole, whoever he is, has a chance against Ari? She’d kick his candy ass to hell and back. That’s provided he ever got past me and the rest of DSS.”
Why the fuck was Eliza so goddamn afraid of one man? She kept saying “he.” Over and over. Like he was God, an unstoppable force. Invincible. Untouchable. And why did Dane or any of the others not know anything about someone who was a threat to everyone Eliza cared about? He was seriously starting to consider that Eliza had been more emotionally traumatized by her ordeal than anyone—even Wade—realized, because this—she—the whole damn story just sounded . . . crazy. And Eliza was anything but crazy. She was smart, could take care of herself and her teammates and she had confidence in spades.
Or at least she did.
But now, the Eliza he thought he knew, was nothing like the woman staring at him with grief, sorrow and fucking fear in her eyes that gutted him every time he witnessed it. And he realized he didn’t know her at all. It was also apparent that none of the people she worked with, trusted, risked her life to protect and had their back no matter the risk to herself, didn’t know fuck all about her either. They only saw what she wanted them to see.
She had secrets, deep secrets she’d never shared with anyone, and worse she had demons she also had never shared with another living soul. And if it was the last thing he did, he was going to ferret out every single one of those secrets and demons and then he was going to do whatever it took to remove the fear and the shadows so evident in her eyes and he’d personally take care of the demons that haunted her and he didn’t give a damn whether she liked it or not.
TEN
GRACIE pulled into the parking garage of the downtown building that housed the offices of DSS and recklessly slammed on her brakes, opening her door before she’d even got her car into park. Clutching the envelope in clammy hands, she bolted out and headed for the stairwell at a dead run, leaving her keys, purse, everything behind in her car.
She knew everyone was in the office this afternoon to discuss a new case they were taking on, which was good since she wouldn’t have to wait for everyone to filter in but bad for the new case because Eliza took priority. Nothing was more important than saving her.
Anxiety took firm hold on her as she entered the elevator, making her fingers fumble and hit the button for the wrong floor, which thankfully was above the DSS offices so she quickly hit the right one and sucked in a deep breath, battling the sting of tears as the elevator began its ascent.
When she burst into the reception area, Zack was waiting, a grim, intense expression on his face. Not surprising since he would have tagged her arrival on the security cams and seen she was in distress.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, pulling her into his arms, his entire body rigid, his hands and eyes roving over her body as if searching for a sign of injury.
“Where are the others?” she asked, ignoring his question.
His look became puzzled. “In the conference room.”
“Let’s go,” she said firmly, pushing her way past him.
“Gracie.”
She ignored him, struggling to keep it together.
“In the conference room!” she shrieked, her entire body shaking uncontrollably.
His earlier look of worry and confusion turned to a look that would scare even the baddest-ass person alive. He gave her a clipped nod but tucked her hand gently into his and followed her toward the conference room.
When they entered, everyone was there and standing, alert, concerned and wary. Angry. Not at her but at whatever had caused her upset. Four of the men she didn’t even recognize, though she vaguely recalled Zack mentioning new hires.
Her gaze found Dane’s and his expression gentled though his eyes were full of worry.
“It’s Eliza,” she blurted. Thrusting the letter in his direction, she said, “She’s on a suicide mission!”
And then she burst into tears, no longer able to maintain any semblance of her composure.
Even so, she didn’t miss the initial shock reflected on an entire room full of men’s faces rapidly dissipate to cold fury nor the fact that a tangible sensation of a dozen pissed off, worried, ultimate alpha warriors sizzled and crackled as if an actual flame had been lit.
And oddly, Dane paled, guilt flickering in his eyes and he looked as though someone had just punched him in the stomach. He looked absolutely sick. As sick as Gracie was when she wondered if she was too late and Eliza had already been taken from the people who considered her family.
Dane took the wrinkled envelope from Gracie’s shaking hand, dread filling his entire soul. Flashes of the way Eliza had been acting prior to her asking for downtime—a vacation he knew was bullshit—repeated over and over in his mind. Their last conversation echoing in his ears and him knowing—fucking knowing—that