With Every Breath (Slow Burn 4)

Then, as had been his custom in the past, she made a fist and slowly raised it to her chest and then pressed it against her heart, knowing he would recognize the gesture immediately. And its meaning.

He blinked in surprise and then his eyes brightened and what looked like delight flashed momentarily. He didn’t smile back. He couldn’t be that obvious. But he sent her a smoldering look, one that was filled with hunger, want and need. Oh God. She couldn’t take this a minute longer.

Thomas broke off in midsentence, and she got the distinct impression that what he said next was not what he’d originally planned or rehearsed. Originally he’d thought to crucify and vilify her despite his claim to wanting just the opposite. But whether it was the silent invitation in her eyes and the intimate gesture known only to the two of them or he in some way saw a glimpse of the girl he’d known as Melissa Caldwell, he changed his direction completely and did a complete one-eighty in his portrayal of her.

“I don’t blame or fault Miss Caldwell for what she did. She did what was right, and she should be commended for having such courage when she was only a child. She saw a crime and she reported it and then she testified in court in her attempt to see justice served. Without a doubt, she had the best of intentions, and she should be admired for that. Unfortunately, she misidentified me as the man who committed those horrific and barbaric atrocities against those poor women. It is my belief that in her shock at witnessing the gruesome scene she inadvertently came upon that she identified someone who likely resembled me, honestly thinking and believing that it was me she saw that day. It was an unfortunate mistake, but an honest one. I do not believe for one minute that she maliciously launched her accusation at me out of spite or to seek revenge for my rejection of her romantically. I have forgiven her just as I have forgiven the police officer who tampered with evidence in order to make it impossible for me to receive a fair trial and so was subsequently convicted. It is my desire to put this entire ordeal behind me and move on with my life. Quietly and peacefully. I would respectfully request my privacy not to be disturbed. I think I am owed that much and it is all I ask. I have turned down the state’s offer of restitution for wrongful imprisonment. I am not a vengeful man. My only desire is to start my new life as a free man and not have my privacy or life intruded upon.”

Eliza could stomach no more, and she needed to leave, now, before he concluded his nauseating play for sympathy and his brazen effort at manipulating the entire assembled crowd into changing their minds about him. He’d solidly put the blame on her shoulders and had blatantly insinuated that she was an obsessed, psycho, scorned woman out for revenge and because of her, an innocent man had been jailed while the real killer was still out there, free.

He’d reversed his position and changed his story after the odd exchange between them, but the damage had already been done, the seeds already planted. She needed to get out ahead of the crowd while they were still absorbed in his humble victim speech and he had them eating out of his hand. Otherwise, it could get ugly very quickly for her. It only took one person bold enough to decide she needed to be taught a lesson and the rest would follow like sheep. And if that happened, her team would be forced out of surveillance to save her ass, thus sending a huge, blazing neon sign to Thomas that she wasn’t alone and she had badass backup.

She moved slowly to the side, edging cautiously, careful not to draw undue attention, halting her progress when there was a momentary lapse in Thomas’s speech and then moving again when all attention was riveted on Thomas once more, his every word being hung on to by men and women, old and young alike.

She wasn’t the only one who’d spent years honing her skills. While she’d been working diligently to strengthen her mental barriers so they were impenetrable and not vulnerable to a psychic attack, Thomas had evidently been honing his powers, making him more powerful than before and an even bigger threat. He held the entire crowd in his thrall, had them all eating out of his hand. They looked at him like he was a God. They gasped in horror when he brought up any injustice to him and frowned, glared and even booed when he mentioned anyone responsible for his being sent to prison.

When she was finally clear of the crowd lining the very front of the gathering, she expelled a sigh of relief but didn’t make the mistake of letting her guard down or thinking she was out of the woods yet. She still had to make it to where she’d parked her car and that was a quarter mile away.

Head down, the hood of her jacket pulled over her hair, she strode in a straight line toward her vehicle. She should have felt jubilant and wildly victorious but her victory was hollow. She’d held her own against a master at bending people to his will and compelling them to do his bidding. He’d tried twice to slide into her mind and he’d failed both times. The second time, he’d used a hell of a lot more power and had doubled the intensity of his attempted assault. Her head ached vilely from the strain of fending him off and from the sheer force of his second attack.

But she’d won. She’d defeated him. She was no longer a weak, powerless pawn he used with little effort. Never again would she be anyone’s puppet. She’d die before ever allowing anyone so much control over her every dream, thought or action.

TWENTY-ONE

THE door opened before Eliza was close enough to put her hand on the handle to let herself in. Wade was there, his gaze fixed intently on her, worry reflected openly in his eyes. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms, wrapping them firmly around her, fully encompassing her in his warmth and strength. Before she even registered them moving, he had maneuvered them through the doorway, shutting the door behind them and then lifted her so her feet dangled inches from the floor so he could carry her farther into the house.

When they were in the middle of the living room, he eased her down until her feet were planted on the floor and he palmed her chin, tilting it upward so their gazes met.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

She closed her eyes, holding them closed for a long moment as she fought the multitude of conflicting emotions and tried to process and prioritize the information to give to Wade.

“Baby?” he prompted, stroking his thumb down her lips.

She forced her eyelids open and stared up at him, drawing strength from the silent support so visible in his eyes. Then she took a deep breath.

“There’s so much,” she said wearily. “I’m not even sure where to begin.”