Whispers in the Dark

CHAPTER 16

NATHAN pulled into the lot of a small motel just as the sky was starting to lighten to the east. They had driven through the night, stopping only long enough to get food and water for Shea. He’d wanted to examine her for injuries, but she’d insisted they keep going. She had just dozed off a half hour before, and he hated to wake her, but he didn’t want to leave her unprotected for the time he needed to arrange the room. Neither did he want her to be seen by anyone who could identify her to her pursuers. Which meant she needed to be awake and prepared for anything.

He gently shook her. Her eyes popped open and she stared around in a near panic before her gaze settled on him. Then she sagged into the seat in relief.

He palmed his Glock and then extended it to her, stock first.

“Know how to use this?”

She took it without hesitation, chambered a bullet and then thumbed the safety. Guess that answered his question.

“I’ll be right back. Watch out. Only shoot if you have to.”

She nodded, but her attention was already focused away from him and on the area surrounding the parking lot.

Nathan hurried in, paid for a room and then went back out for Shea. He’d purposely scoped a motel with rooms that opened on the outside so that Shea would never have to travel through the lobby.

Before he allowed her out of the jeep, he draped one of his fleece jackets around her and pulled the hood over her hair.

“Can you walk?” he murmured. Carrying her would gain too much notice.

She swung around, and it was then he remembered her bare feet. With a curse, he rummaged in his bag and pulled out a pair of his socks.

He slipped them on and then helped her down. He handed her the key and said, “Go on ahead. I’ll get the bags.”

She glanced at the number on the tag and then walked in the direction of the door sporting the same number. Nathan watched her walk away in his socks, absurdly captivated by the image.

He grabbed his bags, locked up the jeep and then headed for the room. The door was left slightly ajar, and he pushed it open with his foot. As he shouldered his way in, he saw Shea sitting on the edge of the bed.

She looked up and their gazes locked. He dropped the bags to the floor, kicked the door shut with his foot and then strode over to where she sat.

She stood at the same moment he reached her, and he crushed her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on just as tightly as he held her.

He inhaled her scent, uncaring of the blood and dirt and grime that permeated her hair and clothing. He was holding her. Finally holding her.

“You’re real. You’re real.”

She pulled away, looked up at him, the same answering emotion shining in her blue eyes. With a groan, he lowered his mouth to hers. He couldn’t hold back. Nothing in the world would have kept him from kissing her in that moment.

He was overcome.

Her mouth, sweet and warm, melted against his. He’d never felt something so completely right in his life. As if everything had worked up to this moment.

She felt small and delicate in his arms. She quivered even as she kissed him back, her lips moving in a slow, sensual slide across his.

He was wrecked. Completely and utterly wrecked.

He gripped her shoulders and pulled away, his legs weak and shaky. He should be caring for her. Seeing to her needs. But he couldn’t keep his hands from her. The need to touch her, to reassure himself that she was finally…his.

Yes, his. And not finally. She’d been his from the moment she’d touched his mind. Perhaps it was why he’d gone crazy when she left him. It was like having a part of his soul ripped out. The months since had been a torture of a different kind. But now she was here. In the flesh. Not just in his mind. And he’d be damned if he’d let her go again.

“We need to get you cleaned up, baby. Let me go turn on the shower so it’ll warm up then we’ll get you out of these clothes. I want to see how bad it is.”

She stirred, a protest forming on her lips. “I’m okay, Nathan. Really.”

“I want to see that for myself.”

His tone brooked no argument and finally she nodded, her shoulders slumping in defeat. He left her long enough to turn on the shower and then he came back where she still stood by the bed.

“Do you need my help?”

Slowly she shook her head. “Let me get cleaned up first, Nathan. It looks worse than it is right now. There’s no sense you getting worked up. After I shower, you can see.”

He frowned. It was likely the opposite was true. It was worse than he thought, and she wanted time to clean up to try to make it look better.

“I’ll be waiting when you get out,” he murmured. “I have a first aid kit in the jeep. I’ll get it while you’re in the bathroom.”

SHEA stood under the spray, eyes closed, her brow creased in pain. She’d scrubbed the blood and dirt from her body, but there was nothing she could do about the bruises.

Her legs shook uncontrollably. She’d barely been able to soap her hair because her hands quaked so violently. Reaction had set in and she was a hot mess.

Falling apart.

The horror of the last days hit her like a ton of bricks. She should be jubilant. She should be relieved. She was free. She was safe. Nathan was with her. He’d protect her.

Instead, tears rolled down her cheeks and her knees threatened to give out. She covered her face and tried to control the sobs that bubbled from her chest.

Strong arms came around her. The water turned off, and she stood dripping wet and hiccupping as sob after sob es-

caped.

Nathan pulled away long enough to wrap a towel around her shaking body and then he lifted her into his arms.

“It’s okay, baby,” he murmured against her forehead. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

He set her on the bed then pulled the blanket around her. He kissed her temple. The top of her head. He rained kisses down on her face. Her eyes. Her cheeks.

She turned her face into his neck and burrowed into his warmth. And his strength.

For the longest time he merely held her as silent sobs spilled from her chest. He caressed her hair, ran his hand down her blanket-covered body and simply sat in silence while he waited for her to collect herself.

She loved that he didn’t seem to fall apart at her distress. Or that he didn’t demand to know what was wrong so he could fix it. He acted like he understood.

When her sobs diminished to soft puffs of air and the shaking ceased, he pulled her carefully away from his body and stared down into her eyes.

Without a word, without asking permission, he slid the covers down her arms, baring her flesh to his sharp gaze.

Though there was nothing sexual in his assessment, she was achingly aware that his gaze tracked over her naked body.

He pulled at the towel, his hands gentle and nonthreatening. He touched every bruise, his expression fierce. His fingers brushed over the cuts and scrapes she’d collected in her flight through the forest.

The more he discovered, the blacker his expression became. Then he turned her and sucked in his breath at the jagged cut on her thigh.

He grasped her arms and turned her back to meet the fury in his eyes.

“What the hell did they do to you, Shea? And don’t tell me nothing.”

She closed her eyes against the sudden burn of tears. Damn it, she’d only just managed to stop crying and now she was weepy again. A mess. An emotional mess.

“They wanted me to tell them about Grace,” she choked out. “I refused. You can guess the rest.”

He cupped her jaw and feathered his thumb across her cheek and then her lips. “Tell me.”

“They beat me, okay? They held me down and they meted out a very calculated, unemotional beating meant to break me. When that didn’t work, they refused to give me water or food and then they beat me again.”

Tears streaked down her cheeks. Nathan’s face had whitened. His eyes looked tortured, dark and frightfully cold. His hand shook on her face and he looked very much like she felt.

“And the cut on your leg? How did you get it?”

She glanced down and her stomach revolted as the memory of what she’d done came back with startling clarity. Pain snaked down her leg, phantom pain, as if she were enduring the knife slicing her skin all over again.

“They implanted a tracking device. When I escaped, I knew I had to cut it out so they couldn’t find me so easily.”

“Son of a bitch!” he cried hoarsely. “My God, Shea.”

To her shock, his eyes glittered with tears and grief. For her. She swallowed painfully, overcome at the emotion that shone on his face.

“My God, baby, what you went through. It makes me sick. You’ve already been through so much for me. Why didn’t you call for me before now? I could have helped you. There was no need for you to have gone through any of this. I would have helped you. You have to know that.”

She turned her face so that her lips brushed over his palm. She cupped her hand over his and kissed the rough skin. Then she trailed her hand up his arm, crossing over the scars that marred the once smooth flesh.

She touched every one and glanced up at him to see his reaction. He looked sick, like he wanted to pull away from her. She could tell he didn’t want her touching him, drawing attention to the scars that crisscrossed his body. How many more were there that she hadn’t yet seen?

“You had already endured more than any human should ever endure,” she said softly. “You needed time to heal. To go home and be with your family again. You needed to learn to live again, to want to live. I couldn’t ask you to help me when you needed so much more than I did.”

He flinched when she put her fingers to the scar on the side of his neck. He tried to turn away, but she levered herself up and cupped her hand over the puckered flesh.

“Don’t hide from me, Nathan. Don’t hide your scars from me. I more than anyone know how you received them. They aren’t ugly. They’re beautiful. Honorable. Signs of courage and of unflagging determination.”

He caught her hand and slid it down his neck to his shoulder before holding it there firmly in place. Then he leaned until his forehead touched hers and their lips were tantalizingly close.

“How is it possible that you’re more beautiful in person than you were as an angel in my mind when I was in that hell. I didn’t think it was possible and yet here you are, so fucking exquisite that I can’t even talk around the damn knot in my throat.”

He pulled the towel all the way from her body and then laid her gently back on the bed. He touched every bruise and then, to her shock, he put his mouth to one. Then another. He pressed gentle kisses to every hurt, to every ache.

Chill bumps raced across her skin, puckering her nipples into tight points. Her heart constricted as he moved meticulously down her body, lavishing sweet loving attention on her wounds.

It was a delicious mixture of arousal and emotional fulfillment. It wasn’t overtly sexual, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t achingly aware of his every touch.

She’d never felt so cared for in her life.

“Beautiful. So beautiful,” he whispered. “Mine.”

She shivered at the quiet vow. His. Yes, she was his. He was hers. That decision had been made the moment she’d first heard his call.

When he got to the cut on her thigh, he pulled back and hauled the first aid kit from the floor onto the bed. With a touch so light she barely felt it, he cleaned and dressed the wound. After he finished taping the bandage, he lifted her just enough to lay her on the pillows and then he pulled the blankets to cover her naked body.

He bent down and kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep, Shea. You’re exhausted and you’re going to need your strength.”

“Where are you going?” she asked fearfully.

He kissed her again. “I’m not leaving you. I’ll be back. I just need to take care of a few things. We’ll both get some rest and we’ll travel tonight when the chances of you being spotted are fewer.”