With Every Breath (Slow Burn 4)

For too long she’d been the protector. Had made it her life’s work. Always putting others first. Risking herself so that others would come to no harm. Never had she had anyone willing to do those things for her. Until now. Until Wade. He’d die before ever allowing anyone to hurt her and he’d damn sure die before ever allowing anyone to make her cry again.

“Baby,” he whispered, watching as her eyes became cloudy and then shiny with tears when he murmured the endearment. As though she mattered to him. Didn’t she understand she was the most important thing in the world to him? No, she didn’t. Not yet. But she would. “Lay your burden down. It’s time to let someone carry it for you.”

He’d said it before but this time it seemed to really register with her and hit home. For a brief moment there was a spark of hope and so much yearning in her eyes that he automatically squeezed her tighter in his arms.

She wanted to lean on him. He’d seen that in her eyes right before defeat registered and with it her loss of hope. She truly believed that no one could help her, even if she wanted it. How to make her believe in him? How to make her believe that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, to alleviate the pain and guilt in her eyes, to permanently remove those bruising shadows? That he would lay waste to any threat to her. To anything that caused her such sadness and grief. Maybe she’d never had that before but that had all changed the moment he’d laid eyes on her in his gallery and wanted nothing more than to kiss her. And a hell of a lot more.

“You make it sound so simple. So easy,” she said in a strangled tone.

“It’s only as difficult as you make it,” he said gently.

She closed her eyes and emitted a bone-weary sigh. As though the weight of the entire world was bearing down on her, suffocating the life right out of her. Her eyes were already dead though. Lifeless. Without hope.

He gathered her more tightly in his arms, conveying without words that he was here. Solid. Real. And he wasn’t going away. Ever.

“Oh God, Wade. I don’t even know where to start.”

“At the beginning,” he prompted. “We have all night, Eliza. I’ll wait. Take as long as you need. I’m here. I’ll listen.”

Tears slithered like silver strands down her pale, hollow face. She seemed to cave inwardly in defeat and when she opened her eyes again, dull resignation was a shadow in her beautiful gaze.

“It was ten years ago,” she began. “I was sixteen.”

He cursed under his breath. Ten years she’d suffered the unimaginable, never sharing with anyone the hell she endured on a daily basis. Jesus, she’d been just a child.

“I had no one,” she went on falteringly. “My parents . . . I never knew them. I don’t even know what happened to them. No one ever told me, or maybe I was too young to remember. My earliest memories were of being in the system, shuffled from home to home, never having a permanent place to live or an actual family. I wasn’t abused physically. I was just . . . ignored, not there if that makes sense. I wasn’t neglected in the sense that I had food and clothing. The bare necessities. But I knew from a very young age that I was merely a source of a check from the state each month and I had no illusions that I ever mattered to the families who took me in. Was never considered a daughter or sister. And that was what I wanted—needed—not material things. Those things didn’t matter to me. I wanted to be accepted—loved. To feel like I had a place in the world and was part of something beautiful. A family.”

“God,” Wade muttered, helpless to do anything but listen to the wretched ache in her voice.

“The longest I was ever with the same family was two years. I was moved often. I never understood why. I never understood why no one ever wanted me. I was a good child. Quiet. Obedient. I would have done anything to please them so they would want me to stay. But no matter how hard I tried, it was never enough. They didn’t notice. I excelled in school but they never recognized that. They just didn’t care and it took until I was fifteen that I finally realized that nothing I did would ever be good enough. I didn’t want that life until I turned eighteen and would graduate out of the system.”

“What happened at fifteen?” Wade asked quietly.

“I left,” she said simply, as though it were the most natural thing in the world for a fifteen-year-old girl to just walk away with no means of support, no money or food.

Dear God. The thought of Eliza at fifteen, having nothing or no one and having to make her own way in the world sickened him to his soul.

“What did you do?”

“I picked up a part-time job so I could complete my GED. I worked nights and during the day I haunted the local library doing online courses. As I said I had always excelled in school so I was able to obtain my diploma just before I turned sixteen. Then I hitchhiked to Calvary. It was as far as my ride could take me, and it seemed as good a place as any. I was able to find work in a local diner and even a room at a local boardinghouse owned by an elderly lady. The rent was cheap and it provided breakfast. I ate the rest of my meals at the diner.”

She took in a deep shuddering breath, pausing for a moment, seemingly lost in the torment of her past.

“He came in one evening. T-Thomas,” she said, stuttering over his name. “He was older, maybe late twenties. Handsome but quiet. There was something about him that, at the time, I couldn’t put my finger on. He would always request my section and he always had a friendly smile for me and left great tips.”

“I bet,” Wade said menacingly, already not liking where her story was headed.

Sixteen and some asshole at least twelve years older—old enough to damn well know better—had cultivated an innocent child whose only crime was wanting to be loved.

“One night I left the diner after two in the morning. I had worked a double and was dead on my feet. I didn’t own a car. I didn’t even have a driver’s license. So I walked everywhere and it was a small town so it wasn’t a big deal. Two street punks started harassing me and when I ignored them it turned ugly.”

Wade sucked in his breath. “How ugly?”

“Before it got too out of hand, Thomas appeared out of nowhere. He wasn’t a badass or even that intimidating but for some reason the punks were scared to death of him. He warned them off me, said I was under his protection and anyone touching me would answer to him.”