The Darkest Hour

CHAPTER 18

A normal bed. It looked warm, soft and inviting, and she all but dove into the mound of covers. The simplest pleasures, ones that would be so easy to take for granted in everyday life, were now the sweetest. A hot bath. A comfortable bed. All the things she’d been denied for a year.

“Am I even going to be able to find you underneath all those covers?” Ethan teased as he crawled onto the bed.

“I think I’ll just stay here for a week,” she said wistfully.

“I could be persuaded,” he said as he settled beside her.

He lay on his side and propped his head in his palm as he wedged his elbow between the pillows. She stared up at him, studying his expression, the different glints of his eyes.

“Your eyes are darker than Sam’s,” she mused. “You look a lot like Garrett. You think that’s why I remember him?”

He blinked as if he hadn’t expected the random thoughts she’d thrown his way.

Her brow crinkled as she brought Donovan’s face into view. “Donovan has green eyes, but the rest of you have blue eyes.”

Ethan smiled and touched her cheek. “Slow down, baby. Let me catch up.”

She burrowed a little deeper into the covers and stifled a yawn as she stared up at him. She loved the contrast between the white sheets and his tanned skin. He was a beautiful thing to behold, and she ate him up with her eyes.

Had she always looked at him with such adoration? Why couldn’t she remember? A spark of emotion. Anything.

Darkness crept up again, uninvited and insidious. Fear took hold. Fear of the unknown, but there was also a fear of remembering. Why? What dark secrets did this seemingly perfect house hide?

“Most of us have blue eyes. Dad has blue eyes and Mom has brown. Van ended up with green, while Nathan and Joe got Mom’s brown eyes.”

“I thought brown was always dominant over blue,” she said with a frown.

“You’re asking a dumb military grunt to explain genetics?”

“You’re not dumb,” she said fiercely.

He grinned and smoothed his thumb over her lips. “Still as feisty as ever when it comes to sticking up for those you love. Anyway, my granddad on my mom’s side had blue eyes, so Mom obviously carries the gene or whatever you call it. Geesh, I haven’t done those stupid gene squares since high school.

“And yes, I look the most like Garrett, but you and Garrett were . . . close. That’s probably why you remember him.”

“I don’t remember your other brothers at all. Or your mother.” She sighed. “How can I face them all when they’ll be strangers to me?”

Ethan shifted his weight slightly, and he scooted lower into the bed until their noses were just a breath apart.

“This isn’t about them. It’s about you. They aren’t going to be angry. Sad? Probably, but it’s because they love you and they hate what happened to you. They want you to be happy. They want you to get your life back, your health and your memories.”

Her breath escaped in an unsteady hiccough. “Ethan?”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear in a loving gesture. “Yes, baby?”

She licked her lips. “I don’t remember a lot about what happened. I mean I remember pieces, like when one of the men tried ...” She clamped her lips shut for a moment but then shook off her shame and reluctance. She had nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing. They tried to take everything from her. She did nothing to bring about their actions.

Ethan’s fingers stilled on her cheek, but she felt more than saw the shudder roll up his big frame.

“What did he try?” he asked in a low voice.

“He tried to hurt me,” she said vaguely. “But another man stopped him. I don’t know why, but he got the man off me and gave me back my clothes.”

Ethan’s face was a rigid, immovable stone. Only his eyes betrayed the raw emotion burning inside.

“Did he ever try again?”

“I don’t think I was raped,” she whispered. She looked searchingly up at him. “Wouldn’t I know? How would I be able to forget something so terrible? I remember everything else, I mean about what they did.”

“What did they do?” he asked gently. His hands shook against her face, and his eyes were so intent, so focused on her that she felt . . . cherished.

She frowned as some of the memories rolled back through the shadows.

“They told me I was never going home. That I was serving a purpose. An insurance policy. What did they mean, Ethan? I don’t understand.”

His breath huffed out, and his fingers stilled against her cheek. “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out. I swear it.”

“Once when I tried to escape, they put me into this . . . cage. It was a box in the middle of the camp. The hot box they called it. One little hole at the top to let air in, but otherwise it was dark and so hot. I baked in it.”

She shuddered involuntarily, and Ethan gathered her in his arms, pulling her close to his chest. His heartbeat thumped against her ear, and she could feel the rage billowing off of him.

“After that, they started with the drugs. I hated it. They frightened me so badly, but then I started needing it, and I only felt good when they gave me another injection. I hated them for that, for making me dependent on a drug for my sanity when all the while I was losing it bit by bit anyway.”

“No, baby, don’t,” he protested.

“They used it to control me after that,” she said, barging ahead, recalling the bitter hatred and the incessant need that even now still crawled through her body. “They’d withhold the drugs, knowing what it would do to me. They kept me in a constant state of withdrawal until finally I hated myself more than I hated them.”

“God.”

His body trembled against her. His shoulders heaved, and she thought he might be crying, but she was afraid to look up, afraid of her own tenuous grip on her emotions. If he broke in front of her, she would simply shatter.

“We’re going to beat this, Rachel,” he said fiercely. “You’re already almost there.”

She couldn’t tell him that right now she wanted the needle more than she wanted to live. She couldn’t tell him that she’d sell her soul for just a moment of sweet oblivion. And so she lay in his arms and said nothing and prayed that the incessant craving would somehow go away if she slept.

ETHAN snatched up the phone when it rang, hoping it wouldn’t disturb Rachel. She was curled on the couch, a blanket tucked up to her chin, and she was sleeping peacefully. Perhaps the most peaceful rest she’d had in the three days since they’d gotten home.

“Hello,” he said in a low voice as he walked toward the kitchen.

“You know if you’d just turn on your damn cell phone, you could put it on vibrate and not have to worry about someone waking Rachel,” Sam grouched in his ear.

“Now, why would I want to make it so easy for the rest of you to get in touch with me?” Ethan drawled.

“How is she?” Sam asked, ignoring Ethan’s teasing.

Ethan sobered and stole a glance in Rachel’s direction.

“She’s doing better. It’s been rough. She hasn’t been sleeping well. Between the lingering effects of withdrawal and her nightmares, neither one of us is getting much rest.”

“You sound wiped,” Sam said, concern bleeding into his voice.

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Mom is getting antsy. It’s all I can do to keep her away.”

Ethan sighed. “I know this is hard on everyone. There’s nothing I’d like more than for everyone to see her again. Hell, I’m hoping she’ll remember something or someone once she’s reunited with the family, but she’s just so fragile Sam. It’s taking everything she has just to keep her feet beneath her.”

“Have you taken her to the doctor here?”

“Yeah, almost the first thing I did. Got the name of a therapist in Clarksville I’m going to call as soon as Rachel feels ready. She seems willing enough to talk to me, but so far she’s balked at going to anyone else.”

“What does the doctor say about her physical condition?”

“Same as Maren said. She’s extremely fragile. Undernourished. Her reserves are sorely depleted. He put her on a vitamin regimen and I’m feeding her three good meals a day with snacks in between.”

“And the withdrawal?”

Ethan ran a hand through his hair and blew out his breath. “She’s still jittery as a June bug at times. I know it eats at her a lot more than she admits. She’s so stoic and I can’t figure out if she’s ashamed and doesn’t want me to see or if she’s somehow trying to protect me from the viciousness of what she’s going through.”

“That’s a hell of a note,” Sam muttered.

“Tell me about it. I’m supposed to be protecting her.”

Ethan turned when a knock sounded at the front door.

“Shit, I need to go, Sam. Someone’s at the door.”

Sam paused. “It’s probably Garrett. You had to know he’d be by to check in on you and Rachel.”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you later, Sam.”

Ethan hung up the phone and went to the front door. Indeed, it was Garrett, standing with his hands shoved into his pockets. He stared at Ethan and took a step forward. “Can I come in?”

Ethan opened the door wider. “Sure. Just be quiet. Rachel’s sleeping on the couch.”

“How are things?” Garrett asked as he followed Ethan into the house.

Ethan shrugged. “We’re getting by.”

“You look tired, man. Why haven’t you asked any of us for help?”

The question came out gently, but to Ethan it still sounded like an accusation. Hell, he probably deserved it, but how was he supposed to explain to anyone how he felt? He’d lost her. For an entire year he existed with the knowledge that she was dead. And now by some miracle he had her back.

Garrett walked by the couch in the living room and looked down at Rachel. His gaze softened and he carefully touched her cheek. Then he glanced back up at Ethan.

“I think you should go over and see Mom and Dad. Hell, I don’t even know if anyone told you that Joe and Nathan are home. They’re anxious as hell to see you.”

“Sam told me,” Ethan said in a low voice. “I’m not going to leave her. I know everyone wants to see her. Believe me, I understand, but I have to do what’s best for Rachel, and I’m worried about bombarding her with family right now.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you take her over yet. I agree you shouldn’t overwhelm her too soon. But I think you should go over. Mom’s worried sick about you. So is Dad.”

“I can’t leave her,” Ethan said incredulously.

“I’ll stay with her. She’s sleeping. You need to get out, man. Get some fresh air. Breathe a little. You can’t keep this up or you’re going to fall apart, and then what good will you do her?”

Christ. Ethan swallowed. Garrett made all the sense in the world, but damn it, he didn’t want to leave Rachel. Even for a minute. How could he explain the sheer panic he felt over the idea? What if he got over to Mom and Dad’s and discovered this was all some bizarre fantasy?

Garrett walked over and put his hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “Look, the way I see it you have two choices. You can get your ass in your truck and go see Mom and Dad for a couple of hours. Or, I can call Sam, Van, Nathan and Joe and have them come over and haul you out forcibly. Either way, you’re getting out of this house for a while.”

Ethan clenched his fingers into a tight fist. Never before had he wanted to hit someone like he wanted to hit Garrett right now. And Garrett knew it, but he just stood there, arms down, making no effort to defend himself.

“You need your family right now,” Garrett said softly. “And Rachel needs you.”

Ethan closed his eyes. “All right. I’ll go. Swear to me you’ll call if she needs me. Sometimes when she wakes up, she forgets . . . she forgets where she’s at. You’ll need to be right there so she doesn’t panic.”

Garrett cut him off before he could go any further. “Go. I can handle this. I’ll watch over her for you.”

Ethan took a breath and then turned away to look for his keys. When he found them, he walked over to the couch, where Rachel hadn’t so much as stirred. For a moment he watched the soft rise and fall of her chest. A crease marred her forehead, and she looked worried even in sleep. He bent down and kissed away the wrinkle.

“Sleep well, baby,” he whispered. “I’ll be back.”