In His Keeping (Slow Burn #2)(22)

It was possible, given Caleb was the oldest, that he might even remember Gavin or perhaps might have even met him on occasion. Their parents had moved in wealthy circles, openly flaunting their wealth and making important—and wealthy—friends. Their father hadn’t been discreet in mixing business and personal matters and had often, as Caleb had told Beau, entertained business associates in their home, allowing them to meet and mingle with the Devereaux children, though Caleb had always shadowed their younger sister, Tori, cautious about the people their parents associated with.

It was a sad testament to the fact that even at a young age Caleb hadn’t trusted his own parents. Beau only had vague memories, not specifics, and Quinn and Tori had no memory of them at all.

“They didn’t call,” Ari continued. “They didn’t let me know why they were late and all my calls to them went straight to voice mail, which tells me their phones are either turned off or have no charge left. They literally disappeared and they would never do anything to cause me worry, nor would they leave me alone on a whim. So I know something has happened to them.”

“Tell me as much as you know,” Beau encouraged. “Don’t leave anything out, no matter how insignificant it might seem. We need all the information you can supply so we at least have a starting point.”

She went still, holding her breath, her nostrils quivering as she stared back at him. “Does that mean you’ll take the job?”

“I need to hear all the facts, but yes, DSS will help you.”

Her nostrils flared with sudden exhalation and her shoulders visibly sagged.

“Thank God,” she whispered. “I didn’t know what else to do, who else to turn to. The men my father hired can’t be trusted. I can’t afford to trust anyone. But my father obviously had faith in you and your brother so I have to go with his judgment.”

“Why do you say the men your father hired can’t be trusted?” he asked, though he had a very good idea now that the puzzle pieces were coming together. Those bruises didn’t get there by accident.

“My father only took two of his security detail with him and my mother. My father is very capable of defending himself and my mother, but he took two and left the rest of the detail with me at the house.

“When I realized that they weren’t coming back, I went outside, hoping to get their attention. I knew they were there, but I couldn’t see them. They weren’t inside with me.”

Beau frowned. Why the hell wouldn’t her father have made certain that the house was every bit as guarded on the inside as the outside?

“After I got no response when I called out for help, I dug through my purse for the keys to the vehicles my father owns. When I looked up, one of the men was there. He told me my parents were ‘fine’ and then before I could react, he hit me.”

Her hand went to her face though he doubted she was conscious of the act. Fury left a foul taste in his mouth at the idea of this young woman, so delicate, would be brutalized by a much larger man. A man who was supposed to protect her.

“When I looked up from where I was sprawled, he was coming toward me and I saw a syringe in his hand. I knew he intended to drug me. And that he obviously wanted me alive, otherwise he could have just killed me as soon as I walked out of the house.”

Beau nodded his agreement with her assessment but remained silent so she would continue, without distraction.

“I knew I could never physically fight him off. He was twice my size and he just screamed military. That look, you know? He was absolutely cold and methodical. I also knew that while he may have had orders to keep me alive, it didn’t mean that he wouldn’t hurt me in the process.”

She trailed off for a moment and her lips formed a tight, white line. She’d grown pale and her respirations were much more shallow and rapid. She stared at him, her gaze penetrating as she studied him. As though she were at a crucial point in deciding whether to fully trust him or to censor some of the information so he wouldn’t know all of it.

But he waited, not offering argument, nor did he try to compel her to trust him. It was a decision she had to make on her own, one he wouldn’t bully her into making. If he was going to help her, he needed one hundred percent of her trust. Which meant telling him everything.

“You obviously saw the video,” she said, her voice trembling. “You’ve had to have seen the speculation and drawn your own conclusions about who and what I am.”

“I’d rather hear it directly from you,” he said calmly. “I don’t form an opinion without all the facts.”

She flashed him a grateful look and then once more squared her shoulders resolutely.

“I have special . . . powers,” she said hesitantly. “Telekinesis. I don’t know if it’s my only power because all my life my parents have tried to hide me—and my abilities—from the public eye. So I never used them. Not since I was a young child and didn’t know better. So it was blind instinct to use them when I was attacked. I wasn’t rational enough to simply try and escape without using my powers. And now everyone knows or suspects and God only knows what else they think or assume about me.”

Her gaze was wary as she studied him intently, waiting for his reaction. He refused to give her one, though it was what she expected.

“I know it sounds crazy,” she said in a low voice.