Safe at Last (Slow Burn 3)

Tears welled in her eyes and silently leaked down her temple to disappear into her hairline. She fixed her gaze on the ceiling as those shiny rivulets continued to run.

“Please talk to me, Gracie. Tell me what’s wrong. Why are you so goddamn scared of me?”

“I don’t want you here,” she choked out.

Her free hand went to her throat, rubbing as though it hurt her to speak. Fury raged inside him. Of course her throat hurt. There were visible hand and finger marks surrounding her slender throat. As if those bastards had choked her repeatedly.

Those words, those simple five words, gutted him to the core.

“Why?” he asked bluntly. “Why do you hate me so much, Gracie? I loved you. I always loved you. And you left. God, do you have any idea the hell it’s been wondering what happened to you twelve years ago? Not knowing if you were dead or alive. Somewhere hurting. In need of help. Didn’t I deserve more than what you gave me? Not even a goodbye. Or ‘fuck off.’ You didn’t even do me the service of breaking up with me. You just . . . disappeared.”

“How dare you,” she spit out. “How dare you act the victim after what you did.”

Alarm splintered up his spine. Finally they were getting somewhere.

“What did I do?” he demanded. “Tell me, Gracie, because I sure as hell don’t know. If I were someone you loved then you would have at least given me a chance to explain. You would have told me what was wrong and given me a chance, at least, to make things right. I loved you. I would have moved heaven and earth to make you happy.”

She looked utterly horrified. Tears swamped her eyes, making them bright and shiny.

“You didn’t love me! Your idea of love is sick! It’s twisted. I don’t owe you anything. But you owe me more than you can ever repay. Listen to me carefully, Zack. There is nothing—nothing—you could ever do or say for me to forgive you. For you to even think it, for you to come in here and act as though I owe you something, is horrifying and so screwed up I can’t even fathom your gall.”

“What. Did. I. Do?” he bit out emphatically, emphasizing each and every word.

He was fast losing patience. He wanted to put his goddamn fist through the wall. He wanted to vent all the rage and grief festering inside him.

Gracie’s hand flew to her mouth and she gagged, choking and then coughing.

“Oh God, I’m going to be sick!” she cried.

Zack flew to his feet and then reached over, lifting her head again while yanking the emesis basin from the stand beside the bed. He turned her as she dry-heaved, her entire body convulsing.

Her sound of agony cut through him like a serrated blade. He hastily punched the call button for a nurse and then shouted loud enough that hopefully Beau or Caleb heard him.

The door immediately opened and Beau filled the frame.

“What is it?” Beau demanded.

“Get me a nurse. Now!”

Beau disappeared and was back just seconds later with a nurse in tow.

The nurse frowned and rushed toward the bed.

“What on earth happened?” she demanded.

“She got sick,” Zack said, stating the obvious. He hated when people asked the obvious. “And she’s in pain from the dry heaving. Can you give her something more? I don’t think her last dose of pain medicine is working worth a damn.”

“I’ll be right back,” the nurse said, hurrying toward the door.

Beau stood to the side, a worried expression on his face as they waited for the nurse’s return. Caleb entered quietly behind his brother and stood behind and just beside Beau, who’d taken position at the footboard.

Gracie stopped heaving long enough to cast a fearful look in Beau’s direction, and then her attention settled on Caleb, her features freezing as if she had only noticed there were three of them, thus three possible threats to her standing right here in her hospital room. Her gaze darted between the two brothers as if she feared one or both would hurt her. Zack was going to explode if he didn’t get some goddamn answers soon.

Finally the nurse returned, carrying two syringes. With crisp efficiency she stepped to the bed and lifted the arm that had the IV inserted. She rubbed and patted Gracie’s arm in a comforting gesture.

“It’ll be all right, hon,” the nurse said in a sweet voice. “I’m giving you something for pain and also for nausea. It should fix you right up. But I’ll check on you again in fifteen minutes. If you’re still hurting, I’ll call the doctor to see if we can up the order for pain meds.”

Gracie laid her head back on the pillow, tears running endlessly from the corners of her eyes. Her silent sobs were taking a piece of Zack’s soul, one by one. He’d never felt so helpless. How could he fix what he didn’t know? Whatever the hell it was he supposedly did was apparently catastrophic in nature. What on earth could put such fear and revulsion in her eyes and such hatred in her voice?

This wasn’t the sweet, loving Gracie he knew and had loved for most of his life.

“Try to get some rest now,” the nurse said quietly. “We’ll be taking you up to the room in an hour or so.”

Gracie let out a sound of protest when the nurse started to leave. The nurse frowned and gave Zack a quick, inquiring glance.

“She’s scared,” Zack said truthfully. “Wouldn’t you be?”

The nurse grimaced. “Don’t worry, Miss Hill. You’re safe here. No one can hurt you now.”

Gracie’s eyes only widened more and she cast a panicked look in Zack’s direction. But the nurse missed it, having turned toward the door once more.

“Uh . . . Caleb and I will just wait outside,” Beau said.

The entire room was weighed down by edginess, fear, even full scale panic. It was thick, it was nearly a tangible taste in Zack’s mouth. He should know, because he’d tasted fear more times than he could count since losing Gracie so long ago.

“Who are you?” Gracie asked hoarsely.

It seemed she’d been having an argument with herself as to which of the Devereaux brothers to speak to. And since it was obvious she had no intention of addressing Zack, she was likely deciding which Devereaux posed the least threat to her. Not that either brother ever looked remotely harmless. But since she was looking directly at Beau and hadn’t even acknowledged Caleb, it was obvious it was Beau she was asking the question of and Beau she’d decided posed the least threat of the remaining two men.