With Every Breath (Slow Burn 4)

“Oh baby,” Wade said, his voice aching with sorrow and regret.

“And that’s what he’ll try to do again,” she said, forging ahead, needing to get everything out. There was so much to do before tomorrow and it was going to take everything she had to convince Wade to go along with her plan.

“He’ll be convinced that all he’ll have to do is plant feelings for him, make me think I love him and then he’ll sweep in and take me away so we can finally be together.”

“Can he?” Wade asked, worry giving his words an edge. “Can he still do that?”

“He’ll think he can,” Eliza said grimly. “And that’s all that matters. But no. Never again. I’ve spent years working to strengthen my mental barriers. I researched endlessly, reading every article, study, book I could get my hands on dealing with psychic powers and strengthening mental barriers that make people susceptible to psychic influence.”

She pulled slightly away from Wade, returning the gesture he’d made moments before. She cupped his face, staring earnestly into his eyes.

“I didn’t know any better then. I didn’t know what love or hate was. So it was easy for him to convince me that what I felt for him was love and that it was real. But then I felt hate when he was no longer manipulating my thoughts and feelings. And the hate was so much stronger, so much more powerful than the love I was made to feel for Thomas because that love wasn’t real,” she said fiercely. “But my hate was. It was very real and it was mine. It belonged to me and wasn’t controlled by anyone else. That was when I understood the difference between what was real and what was merely a manifestation of childish fantasies and hopeless wishes and that I was a naïve idiot for believing in dreams coming true.”

“Will he know he can no longer control you?” Wade asked, his brows drawn together in concern. “And how certain are you that you can block him now?”

There was a hint of fear in his tone, one that made Eliza realize that Wade feared losing her to the man who’d once controlled every aspect of her life. A man she had freely admitted she’d once loved and would have done anything for. A man she’d planned forever with.

“No one will ever control me again,” she said through clenched teeth. “I’ll have to be careful to keep my emotions in control because he’s as adept at reading emotion as he is thoughts. He will recognize that I am different. That he won’t be able to have me under his thumb with minimal effort. But the advantage is mine. He won’t hurt me, but I’ll kill the son of a bitch without a second thought.”

“No the hell you will not,” Wade growled. “We’ve been over this, baby. You aren’t even getting close to him.”

Eliza took a small step back, steeling herself for the explosion that was about to erupt.

“I have to be at that press conference tomorrow,” she said quietly.

Wade’s eyes darkened, black like a midnight storm. It was obvious he was making a concerted effort not to completely lose it right then and there. He swallowed hard, his lips parting and then snapping shut as if thinking better of what he’d been about to say.

“Fuck no,” he finally said, his breaths coming in rapid spurts, his nostrils flaring with the force of each inhale as he fought for control. “Have you lost your goddamn mind? Forget for a moment the threat of Thomas and the fact that everyone in this goddamn town has it out for you and let’s focus on the fact that the media will be crawling all over the place. They’ll eat you alive. You’ll be on every television in the fucking country and they’ll crucify you. They’ll vilify and condemn you with or without actual facts. The plan is for Thomas to come to you where I’ll be waiting for him.”

“I don’t plan to stay the entire time,” Eliza said calmly. “Just long enough for him to see me. I want him to see me. And I want him to think I’m there for him and waiting. As soon as I’ve made certain he’s seen me, I’ll leave and then we proceed as we planned. Dane and his team will monitor Thomas at all times and track his movements. Your men will maintain a tight perimeter around the safe house. He’s not invincible, Wade. He won’t be hard to take out.”

“It’s never a good idea to underestimate one’s opponent,” Wade warned. “Damn it, Eliza, you don’t need to be there. I don’t want you there. You’ve suffered enough. Why put yourself through hell all over again by showing up at a press conference everyone in town will be at where your presence will only confirm what they think they already know? I don’t want that for you. Haven’t you suffered enough?”

She closed the distance she’d put between them and wrapped her arms around Wade’s waist and hugged him fiercely, laying her cheek against the solid reassurance of his heartbeat.

“This is something I have to do for me,” she said quietly, pleading with him to understand. To know that she had to do this and couldn’t just stand idly by while someone else solved all her problems for her. “For so long I felt helpless and hopeless. Then I felt hatred and bitterness but also guilt, grief and overwhelming sorrow. The guilt was the worst. I saw those women every single night when I closed my eyes. They haunted me for years. Things got a little better when I met Dane and he recruited me for DSS. I grew up and learned to be more self-reliant. The nightmares became less frequent but they never went completely away. I thought that Thomas was completely behind me, at least in the sense that I’d never again have to see him and I drew comfort from the knowledge that I was finally free. I had a good life. Good friends. People I cared about and who cared about me. They taught me so much. And I drew comfort from knowing that Thomas would be spending the rest of his life in prison paying for his sins and that while I was finally living free and happy, he would never have those things.

“I won’t lie. I used to lie awake at night and wish that I could face him one last time. So he would know that he didn’t own me, that he never had me. So I could tell him that hell was too good for him. I dreamed of killing him. And not quickly or mercifully. In those moments I was no better than him,” she said painfully. “Because I imagined doing to him exactly what he’d done to the women he tortured and killed. I imagined him suffering until he begged for death. I wanted him to feel what those women felt. I wanted him to hurt. And I wanted to be the last face he saw before he took his final breath. I wanted him to see me smiling, victorious, and for him to know that I beat him and that I’m stronger than he is. Worse than the fact that it makes me no better than him, I feel no shame, no remorse and no regret for wishing with all my heart that somehow I could make that dream a reality.”