Each time he’d fought back. A few times he’d landed blows of his own. But each time they’d eventually overpowered him. The tallest, toughest one, the one who favoured those smelly cigars, always laughed. It was the laughter not the pain that triggered his screams. It was a never-ending grating sound that churned through his gut and tripped his heart rate into overdrive.
He felt the scream build in his throat and readied himself for the roar.
Gentle but firm hands shook him awake.
‘Theo…querido!’
He kept his eyes shut and reached for her, holding on tight as the images receded. The irony of it wasn’t lost on him, the thought of how much he now needed the daughter of the man who was responsible for reducing him to a helpless wreck night after night for the last twelve years.
As he held on to her the thought that had plagued him for several days now took hold. He no longer wanted to pursue this vendetta. Yesterday, he’d found himself requesting that the board vote a different way to what he’d originally planned. They’d been stunned. He’d been twice as stunned.
He’d mentally shrugged and told himself there was no reason to turn his back on a healthy profit but he’d known he’d changed his mind for a different reason.
Benedicto was all but finished.
But ending it now would mean Inez would be free to walk away from him. And the very thought of that made him break out in a cold sweat.
He’d managed to buy himself a little more time by persuading her to come with him to Ari’s wedding.
After that…
His insides churned as he lay in the darkness and felt her soft hands soothe him.
He pushed away thoughts he wasn’t brave enough yet to truly examine.
‘Querido, are you awake?’ she breathed softly.
His heart flipped and his arms tightened convulsively around her soft, warm body. ‘I’m awake, anjo.’
‘I’m not an angel, Theo.’
‘You are.’
‘If I were an angel, I’d have the power to banish your nightmares,’ she replied in a voice fraught with pain.
It took several seconds to realise she ached for him.
Pulling back, he stared into her face.
‘You didn’t do this to me, Inez.’
Her eyes clouded. ‘I know. But that doesn’t mean I don’t wish you healed.’
His smile felt skewed. ‘There’s no cure for me, sweetheart,’ he said, although he was beginning to doubt that. Just as he was beginning to think that the answer lay right there in his arms. If only there was a way…
‘Are you sure? There’s therapy—’
‘Tried it. Didn’t work,’ he replied. When he heard the curtness in his voice he soothed an apologetic hand down her back.
She relaxed against him and he buried his face in her hair and breathed her in.
‘What happened?’
‘What, with the therapy?’
She nodded.
He slowly opened his eyes and stared into the middle distance. ‘They spoke about triggers, breathing techniques and anxiety-detectors. There was mention of electro-shock therapy or good old-fashioned pills. I never went back for a second session.’
Her head snapped up. ‘You mean all that was at your first session?’
He smiled and kissed her gaping mouth. ‘I believed what was wrong with me couldn’t be fixed by therapy.’
‘Believed?’
He realised what he’d said and his breath caught. Was he grasping at straws where there were none?
‘I’m beginning to think things aren’t as hopeless for me, anjo.’
She paled a little but continued to hold his gaze. Slowly, she nodded. Her luxuriant hair spilled over her shoulder onto his chest as she stared into his eyes. ‘I really hope you find closure one day, Theo.’
Simple, frank words, said from the heart. But they froze his insides as surely and as swiftly as an arctic wind froze water.
Because he was seriously doubting that he would ever find peace without this woman in his arms.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THEY BOARDED THEO’S private jet late the next Friday. The moment they stepped on board, Inez sensed something was wrong.
Theo paced up and down, his agitation growing the closer they got to take-off.
When the pilot came through, Theo sent a piercing glance at him and the man hurried into the cockpit.