Echoes at Dawn (13 page)

He held her for a moment longer and then finally pulled away. “We’ve talked enough for one night, I think. I’m sure you’ll have more questions when you’re not falling-down tired. You need to rest and completely heal. I’m not going anywhere. We can continue this conversation tomorrow.”

She nodded and he tucked her back underneath the covers. Then he went to the closet, pulled out several blankets and some extra pillows. After arranging a comfortable spot on the floor, he turned back to her. “Ready for lights out?”

“Yeah,” she murmured.

Already she’d snuggled into the pillows and was lying on her side facing his direction. She looked tired. Worn down. Like she’d been through hell. And yet he’d never seen a woman who looked more beautiful to him. Maybe it was because he’d seen the heart of her. Her spirit and resilience.

Grace had made a huge impact on his life in the very short time he’d known her, and he knew he’d never forget her.

He reached for the light switch and doused the room in darkness. Then he crawled beneath the covers he’d arranged and closed his eyes. His muscles screamed their protest, and fatigue beat relentlessly in his head.

He had almost drifted off when he heard her soft whisper.

“Rio?”

He opened his eyes and half turned in her direction so he could hear her.

“Are you awake?”

It was said so softly he almost didn’t hear her.

“Yeah. You okay?”

There was a long pause.

“Grace?”

“Would you…” She trailed off like she was having difficulty asking what it was she wanted. “Would you sleep with me? On the bed, I mean? I feel…safer…when you’re near.”

His chest did funny things. His heart turned over at the fear and hesitancy in her voice. Hell, he’d move a damn mountain for her.

He pushed himself upward and then flipped on the lamp. She blinked and then peered anxiously up at him.

Then he pulled the covers back and crawled into the bed. He reached back to turn off the light. Once again darkness settled over the room, and he turned back so they were facing each other, though he could barely make out her features.

They lay there silently, so still he couldn’t hear her breathe. She was stiff and completely immobile, but he could tell she hadn’t relaxed or gone to sleep.

“Come here,” he said quietly.

He lifted his arm and she immediately snuggled into his embrace. Her body was a warm shock to his, flush against his chest, her legs touching his.

He remained still, waiting to see if she’d react or if she seemed uncomfortable with his proximity, but to his surprise, she burrowed farther into his embrace, emitted a sweet-sounding sigh and then settled limply against him.

“This better?” he asked.

She nodded against him, her head bobbing just underneath his chin.

For several long moments, he lay there, unsure of what to do next. Finally he lowered his arm, curling it around her midsection and anchoring her to him. She didn’t even stir. She’d already fallen asleep.

He relaxed, letting his head and hers sink farther into
the pillows. She felt small and slight next to him, and he was further reminded of just how fragile she was and yet how much inner strength she possessed.

He turned his mouth down until his lips brushed over her hair. “Good night, Grace,” he whispered.

GRACE
awoke with a throbbing headache. Her brow wrinkled at the effort it took to open her eyes. She lay there a moment as she evaluated her body and her injuries. Then she lifted her arm, examining the place where the bone had broken. She flexed and extended her fingers, but other than a little stiffness, all seemed well.

Her dreams had been fractured, a mixture of reality and a product of her fears. She’d tried repeatedly to reach out to her sister, and at this point she hoped she hadn’t been successful because Shea would have been terrified for Grace, and the very last thing Grace wanted to do was upset her sister. Especially now that Rio had told her she was happy.

In love.

Protected.

Envy bit hard and guilt crowded swiftly in for thinking even for a moment that she was jealous of what her sister had.

She sat up, realizing that Rio had likely long vacated the bed. Sunlight streamed through the one window at the very top of the wall. She thought it odd that all the windows in the
house were positioned that way. There was no view to the outside. Nor were they large enough for a person to fit through. She wondered if Rio had given thought to being able to escape in a fire.

She shook her head. Somehow she didn’t think such a thing would ever escape Rio’s planning. He seemed too focused and calculating to miss something so simple.

She moved slowly, though she did feel better and not as broken. She didn’t want to take anything for granted, however. She wanted—needed—to be whole again and not just physically. There was a need that transcended simple desire for the woman she’d been before this whole nightmare began.

She found a pair of jeans and a T-shirt on top of the dresser. Frowning, she let her fingers run over the worn softness of the material. She was struck by a longing sensation so keen that she yanked her hand away, palming her fingers with the other hand.

Tears stung her eyelids as she stared down at the clothing. Shea’s clothing. When had she been here? How had Rio gotten these things?

Her heartbeat thundered against her chest until she was dizzy and swaying. She hated the anxiety that gripped her every time she considered that she’d been too trusting of Rio and his men. What if they were the ones she should fear the most? Here she was in Belize, God knows where on some river way out in the middle of nowhere.

She closed her eyes and reached for Shea’s clothes again, pulling them to her chest for comfort. For a brief moment it was like holding her sister again.

She’d spent the night in Rio’s arms because she’d been lonely, afraid, and she’d trusted him. Now she wondered if she hadn’t been incredibly stupid, but then this was an argument she’d waged with herself since they’d been in the mountains.

More than anything, she was afraid of making the wrong choice and trusting the wrong people. For so long,
she’d refused to trust anyone else. Only Shea. And now that link was gone.

She pulled Shea’s T-shirt over her head and down her body. Normally Shea’s clothing wouldn’t fit her. Shea was smaller, shorter, not as muscled as Grace, but Grace had suffered in the last months. Now Shea’s shirt hung loosely on her.

Next she put on the pants, and other than being a bit short in the length, they fit her fine. Grace had lost a lot of weight. She was afraid to know how much.

She closed her eyes and inhaled. She could smell Shea. Could feel her wrapped around her just like her clothing was. If Rio worked for the organization that was currently protecting Shea, then Grace should be able to talk to her, right?

Then she could put at least one worry to rest. Whether she should be wary of Rio and his team or whether they were really the good guys here.

For the time being, if they weren’t the good guys, she was at least being treated far better than she’d been with the last people who’d held her captive. So far…

She poked around in the bathroom until she found deodorant, a toothbrush and a brush for her hair. It was bedraggled from the night before when she’d washed it and gone straight to bed.

She settled on the bed and set to work on detangling the mass of hair. Cross-legged on the mattress, she didn’t overlook the normalcy of doing something so mundane as brushing her hair. Any other time she would have overlooked it, been in a hurry, not dwelled on something so everyday. Now, she was grateful for it.

Closing her eyes, she stroked the brush through the strands and tried to center her scattered emotions. She thought of Shea, focused intensely on the familiar path, but each time she reached for it, blackness swelled in her mind. Her despair heightened with each failed attempt to reconnect to her sister.

I’m so sorry, Shea. This is my fault. I shut you out. But I need you now.

Her hand slowed in its downward progression through her hair, and tears were hot at the edges of her eyes. She inhaled sharply through her nose and blinked them back. After several steadying breaths, she lifted her head, only to find Rio standing in the doorway, his gaze trained on her.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

She nodded slowly and retraced the same path with the brush, enjoying the soothing rhythm against her scalp.

“You seem upset.”

She sighed, put the brush down and flipped her hair back over her shoulder. She let her hands rest on her crossed ankles and threaded her fingers nervously.

“I need to talk to Shea. I can’t connect mentally with her, so I need for you to call her. You said she’s with people you work with, right? I want to talk to her.”

Rio leaned against the doorframe, cocked his head to the side and studied her a long moment. Then he smiled slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. That smile made her uncomfortable. Like he had secret knowledge she wasn’t aware of. She fidgeted under his scrutiny but refused to back down.

“You don’t trust me, do you?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to hurriedly deny any such thing, but she wasn’t going to lie. Instead she leveled a stare at him. “I haven’t made up my mind yet. The jury’s still out. But being able to speak to my sister would go a long way in allaying my concerns.”

The crooked grin got bigger. “Some might say you’re in no position to be bargaining.”

Her cheeks grew warm but she wouldn’t allow herself to lose this silent war of wills with the stare-down. She wouldn’t beg. She’d begged until she was hoarse. Had begged for mercy. For freedom. Her pleas had fallen on deaf ears. Never would she do it again.

“I need to speak to her,” she said in a controlled voice.
“If I’m not a prisoner, surely I rate this simple consideration.”

Rio arched a brow. “Prisoner? Honey, I carried you all over the Rocky Mountains on my back. If you were a prisoner, I’d have made you walk it your damn self.”

“I did walk!” she said indignantly. “I made it by myself. Without your help. Maybe not at first, but I made it in the end.”

Rio’s face softened but his eyes were still bright with amusement. “That you did, Grace.” He ambled forward then perched on the corner of the bed, turning so he could look at her. “I can’t guarantee that I can get you Shea. I can try. You have to understand that she is in as much danger as you are.”

Grace frowned as worry slid down her spine. “I have to talk to her, Rio. She won’t understand why I haven’t reached out to her. She’s probably frantic. I need to know she’s okay but I also need to let her know
I’m
okay.”

Rio glanced at her, his expression mild but his eyes sharp. He seemed to be contemplating the matter, and she hadn’t realized how close she was to doing what she’d sworn she wouldn’t. She bit her lips to call back the plea. Damned if she’d beg for anything ever again.

“I can try,” he finally said. “I’m not at all certain where Shea is. But I can place a call to Sam to see what I can do. There are conditions, however.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What conditions?”

“I have to have your agreement to my conditions before I’ll consider placing the call.”

Frustration simmered and it took everything she had not to lash out and instead remain calm and centered as she stared back at him.

“What conditions?” she said from behind clenched teeth.

He shook his head. “I’m holding all the cards here, Grace. I’m not trying to be an asshole, but it’s imperative if I’m going to keep you safe that you agree to my conditions regardless of whether you find them unreasonable or not.”

She honest to God wanted to hit him. Her fingers curled into a tight fist, and she had to clamp her other hand around it to keep from flying into a rage. She was tired of feeling helpless. Tired of being subjected to the whims and subjugation of others.

As if he knew exactly what she battled, he reached over and gently picked up her tightly coiled fist. He rubbed his thumb over the white knuckles and gazed into her eyes.

“Would it make you feel better to hit me? You can, you know. Go ahead, Grace. Give it your best shot.”

She stared at him like he was nuts. He wasn’t angry. In fact, he was extremely calm. She couldn’t wrap her mind around what on earth he was doing. Was he mocking her?

“Hit me,” he said again. “Take back control, Grace. Assert yourself. Did you feel weak and powerless when they had you? Did you wish you had more power? That you could fight back? Or maybe you were too scared to. Did you cower in a corner waiting for someone to save you?”

Rage was red-hot, blinding. She swung, connecting with his chin. His head popped back and pain flashed through her knuckles. For a moment she was too stunned to comprehend what she’d done.

He lowered his head, holding his chin. He grinned crookedly as he rubbed at his jaw. “Nice shot. We’ll work more on getting more power into your jab but not bad at all.”

Her mouth popped open. “Are you insane?”

Rio cocked his head to the side. “I’ve been accused of that a time or two. Depends on your definition of sanity.”

“I just
hit
you. Aren’t you angry?”

“Did it make you feel better?”

She frowned. She wanted to hit him again. He was so damn calm. Did anything ruffle him? She flexed her fingers then glanced at his jaw, where a slight red spot marked his dark skin.

“Yeah, it did.”

And she did feel marginally better. Some of her intense rage and anger had slid away as soon as she’d exploded into action.

He smiled then. “Mission accomplished.”

She shook her head. “You’re nuts.”

He put her hand down and leaned back. “We can work on a few self-defense moves. You’ve got a lot of power considering how low your reserves are.”

“I just want to talk to my sister,” she burst out.

“As long as you agree to my conditions, I’ll do my best to make it happen.”

“What conditions?” she asked in exasperation. “I can’t agree to anything until you tell me what they are.”