Keep Me Safe (Slow Burn #1)(25)

Caleb shook his head, his frustration—and grief—palpable in the tension-filled room. “That’s not why I brought her here. We owe her. We all owe her. There’s some maniac out there who’s been stalking her for a year and a half. He almost got to her yesterday. She’s not here to be some punching bag for Tori, goddamn it. We owe her better than that. So you and Quinn keep Tori away from Ramie.”

Beau went silent, his lips stretched into a thin line. Caleb put his hand on Ramie’s shoulder and gently pushed her back down onto the couch. Then he turned back to Beau.

“Ramie doesn’t think it’s safe here. The seclusion worries her. The woods. She thinks we’d never know if someone was out there.”

Ramie could tell Beau was startled by Caleb’s words and then he glanced toward Ramie as if seeking confirmation of Caleb’s assessment.

“So before we show Ramie to her room, where she can get some much-needed rest,” Caleb continued, “you and I are going to show her why she has nothing to worry about.”

TWELVE

RAMIE’S head floated effortlessly down onto the pillow, her eyelids fluttering closed. She felt swallowed up by the bed, wrapped in its comforting embrace, and she purposely shut out everything but the sensation of safety and well-being.

Because if she allowed herself to think of anything else, she’d lose her tenuous grip on her sanity.

Caleb and Beau had taken her into a room on the main floor that housed all kinds of electronics and television monitors. Every angle of the house was displayed in real time. Remote sensors dotted the entire landscape and would sound a warning if anyone ventured near the house. For that matter if anyone entered the wooded area surrounding the house, alarms would be triggered.

There was a safe room on the main floor of the house. Fireproof, impenetrable, stocked with enough food and water to withstand a natural disaster. Or the zombie apocalypse.

She suppressed the sudden burst of laughter that bubbled up from her chest. There was certainly nothing amusing about her situation, nor having absurd thoughts like withstanding a zombie apocalypse. Even if it was appropriate.

The important thing was that this house was bulletproof. Or crazed, homicidal maniac proof. No one could as much as fart in the woods without Caleb and his brothers knowing. That should ease her worry, and yet here she was, lying on one of the most comfortable beds she’d ever lain in, exhausted, and yet unable to relax enough to go to sleep. She simply couldn’t shut off the fear, no matter how much her heart told her she was safe.

Heart and mind were not in accord, which only added to the sensation of her sanity slipping further and further from her reach.

Worse, on the way to the room Caleb had installed her in, they’d passed Tori’s room and the sound of her weeping filled Ramie with sorrow and her chest ached for the emotional upheaval she was causing with her presence. She couldn’t fault Tori’s reaction to coming face-to-face with the unerring truth of what had happened to her. There was nothing wrong with denial. Everyone had their own way of coping. God only knew how Ramie had learned to cope over the years. It may not be the healthiest way to absorb tragedy after tragedy, but being able to compartmentalize each nightmare had been the only way she survived.

At some point the walls would likely crumble and everything she’d been stuffing down would come spewing out like a geyser erupting, but until that day she just . . . ​coped. Just like Tori was coping—or not coping. It wasn’t her job—her responsibility—to heal Caleb’s sister. She wouldn’t even know how to begin even if she wanted such a task.

She cupped her hand over her forehead, eyes still closed, and she rubbed tiredly in an attempt to ease the awful tension and the painful ache in her temples. When would she stop running? Would she ever stop fleeing, and would she ever be able to lead a normal, boring life, something she craved with desperation?

If you think you’re safe—that you’ll ever be safe—from me, you’re a very stupid woman. There is nowhere, no place you can hide that I won’t find you. And when I do, you will suffer. You will beg me for death, and maybe, if you’re a good girl, I’ll be merciful and kill you quickly.

Ramie bolted upright in bed, her scream shattering the silence that had blanketed the room. Her gaze bounced wildly around the darkened room, pupils quickly adapting as she blinked, expecting to see him standing by her bed. Within touching distance.

She should run, but she was paralyzed, unable to move—to breathe. Terror gripped her until she felt bruised, as if an actual hand had wrapped itself around her throat.

When the door burst in, she screamed again and scrambled wildly for the other side of the bed. She landed with a harsh thump, pain lancing through her head. She planted both palms on the floor, pushing herself upward, prepared to fight for her life.

She’d known she wasn’t safe here. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Like a wild animal she reared her head, nostrils flaring as she evaluated her escape options. He filled the doorway and then suddenly light flooded the room, momentarily blinding her.

From a distance she heard her name and she jerked her gaze around the vividly lit room, desperately seeking the source. Strong hands wrapped around her upper arms, and she lashed out, self-preservation kicking in. She wasn’t ready to die.

“Caleb, what the hell is going on?”

Ramie stared at the open doorway to see Beau Devereaux standing there in a pair of boxer shorts and nothing else. He was quickly shoved aside when Quinn appeared looking worried and frazzled.