Maya Banks - Theirs to Keep

Frustration was sharp and consuming. “Logically I know that. I do. I told you I’m a mess. I tried to warn you about what you’re getting into.”

“Stop. Just stop,” Cade said sharply.

She went silent, her eyes widening at the look on his face.

“Now take a deep breath for me and relax.”

She inhaled deeply through her nose and let it out her mouth in a noisy rush.

“That’s better. Now, let us worry about what we’re getting into,” he said in a calm tone. “Merrick and I are big boys. We know what we’re doing. Stop worrying about what we think or feel and concentrate on what’s scaring the hell out of you so bad. Can you remember anything at all? Anything that we can use to help you?”

She shook her head, despair creeping over her shoulders, slumping them downward with its weight. “Just him. Again. And words. What he said to me. Oh God. He hated me. He wanted to punish me. He told me he’d kill me but first he was going to fuck me like the whore I was so that the last face I saw was his as he raped me.”

“Son of a bitch,” Cade swore, fury laced in every word.

“Can you picture him?” Merrick asked gently. “Can you remember anything that would help us identify him?”

Panic slammed into her, nearly knocking her to her knees. She shook her head violently, refusing to remember, not wanting to remember. God, if she put a face to the monster, then she’d never rid herself of that image. Of him over her, hurting her, violating her and hating her with every breath.

“It’ll come,” Merrick said quietly. “When you’re ready, it’ll come.”

She nodded slowly, taking in the words and holding them like a talisman. Even as a voice whispered in the back of her mind that she didn’t want it to come. She never wanted it to come. What would it solve? And who would believe her if she could remember him? If she sought justice for what he’d done, if she could actually put a face and a name to her attacker, who would take the word of an amnesiac who had a tenuous hold on her sanity?

Damned if she did. Damned if she didn’t. All she wanted was to forget. Or rather not remember, since she had nothing to forget except those words. Such hate-filled words. Was it someone she knew? Had someone she’d trusted betrayed her? Or had it been a random act of violence?

No. It couldn’t be random. The man knew her. He’d said he wanted what he was having. Some other man. Her lover? Boyfriend? Husband?

Oh God, the idea of having a husband filled her with panic all over again. How could she commit to Cade and Merrick when she didn’t even know if she was already legally committed to another man?

Cade pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. It was purely comforting. There was nothing sexual about his hold. It told her more than words that he was there and that he wasn’t going anywhere and that she could get through anything with his and Merrick’s help.

She grabbed on to that silent promise.

“Let’s go home now,” he said gently. “I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

She nodded her agreement. Just the idea of being back in the place she felt so safe bolstered her spirits.

Single file, her lodged between Cade and Merrick, she walked out of the bathroom. Once outside, they adjusted so they flanked her on either side as they strode toward the truck.

Merrick opened the door for her, and she slid into the front seat, next to Cade. Merrick climbed in back, and Cade wasted no time pulling out of the parking lot.

She sighed in relief and rested her head against the window, closing her eyes as they drove away from the beauty of the lake. Some things were more beautiful for what they offered. The modest home that Cade and Merrick shared was the most beautiful spot in the world to her. It stood for all the things she needed most.

Comfort. Security. Protection.

Love.

Her sanctuary. Her place to just be. No questions. No demands. No intrusion from the outside world.

Cade reached for her hand, but she didn’t react. He curled his fingers tightly around hers and squeezed. A simple reminder that he had her back. She squeezed back, sending him the silent thank you.

He loved her.

It was almost too much to comprehend. How could he love her? He didn’t even know the real her. What if he didn’t like the real Elle? What if the old Elle was someone nothing like the new Elle?

What if she remembered everything tomorrow and discovered she was a terrible person?

She couldn’t lose Cade and Merrick. No matter what or who she was in the past, it was never too late to be someone else. Was it?

Bone deep weariness assailed her. She felt as wrung out as an old dishrag. There was nothing more she wanted than to stumble into bed and stay there. She wanted to forget today ever happened. Wanted to wipe the dream from her mind and memory and to erase the horrible panic she’d endured when the police officer had walked her way.

Even now, a curl of nausea twisted her stomach into knots all over again.

When they rolled up in the driveway, she opened her door, desperate to be out and to go inside, close the door and shut herself off from the rest of the world.

She knew she was in huge denial of her situation. She knew that this wasn’t a long-term solution to her problem. But she wasn’t equipped to deal with her past right now. Maybe down the road. But not now.

“I want to go lie down,” she murmured as Cade and Merrick followed her inside.

Merrick touched her clammy face, frowning as he drew his hand away. But he didn’t say anything. Just simply nodded and then leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll check in on you later,” he said.

She nodded and walked down the hall to the small bedroom she occupied. Not even bothering to undress, she crawled beneath the covers and curled her knees to her chest so she was in a protective ball. She pulled the covers to her chin and closed her eyes, praying she wouldn’t dream.

MERRICK SAT IN THE DARKNESS, brooding silently as he listened to the rain patter against the roof. A weather system had moved in—a cold front—in the latter portion of the afternoon while Elle was sleeping.

Today he’d done something he’d never done. He’d cancelled a training session. Dakota had called, worried. And then Catherine had called on her husband’s heels. He’d known, though, that he ran the risk of being injured if he sparred because his concentration was shot to hell. He was focused on the woman curled up in the bed in the next room.

He’d checked in on her twice, worried that she’d remained sequestered in her room. But each time, she’d been deeply asleep. She hadn’t so much as moved from the spot she’d curled up in.

He didn’t know what to do or if there was anything to be done. He was tired of the patience route. He wasn’t one to sit around and spout psychological bullshit. Elle was on the verge of cracking, and he was helpless to do anything but sit and watch.

Maybe he and Cade were wrong to discount her fears of her past. It was easy to say her past didn’t matter and that they were her future. But the truth was, until they knew exactly what was in her past, they had no idea what they were dealing with.

And if she’d been in trouble with the police, they could have a clusterfuck on their hands.

A noise in the hallway alerted him, and he turned his head to look over his shoulder to see Elle shuffling toward the kitchen.

“Finally awake, sleepyhead?” he called out in a teasing voice that he hoped covered his relief at seeing her.

She ignored him and continued on, disappearing from view. There was something off about her. The way she walked. She never even reacted to his voice, and if she hadn’t been aware of his presence, he should have startled her.

Frowning, he pushed himself up from the armchair and started toward the kitchen only to hear the door slam shut.

What the hell?

He charged into the kitchen only to find Elle gone. He glanced toward the door and saw the silhouette of her body heading through the garage.

“What the ever-loving fuck,” he muttered.

He yanked open the door just in time to see Elle walk from the confines of the garage straight out into the rain.

“Elle! Elle!” he yelled.

He sprinted out of the garage, flinching when the cold rain pelted his face. Elle had stopped at the end of the walkway and stared sightlessly into the street. God, what if he hadn’t been up to see her walk out of the house? She could have been killed!

He grasped her shoulders and steered her back toward the house. She blinked in surprise and then seemed to come back to reality.

She stared up at him, rain sluicing down her face. Her hair was bedraggled and soaked through.

“Merrick?” she asked in confusion. “Why are we standing in the rain?”

She looked down, holding her arms out as her clothing dripped water, and then back up at him in bewilderment.

“Come on, let’s get you back inside,” he said in a grim voice.

He herded her back through the garage and into the kitchen.

“Stay right where you are. Let me grab a towel.”

He ducked into the small laundry room and pulled a towel from the dryer. When he returned to Elle, she was shivering, partly from cold, but she seemed to be in shock.

He wrapped the towel around her and rubbed vigorously.

“We need to get you out of these clothes and into a hot shower.”

She allowed him to lead her toward the bathroom. Her expression was still mostly blank, as if she had no idea what had just transpired. He sat her down on the closed toilet seat and then turned on the shower.