Keep Me Safe (Slow Burn #1)(27)

Ramie threw up her hand. “I’m not sick. I’m not crazy. Those are the only two things I know for sure in my life right now.”

“What was the dream about?” he asked, pinpointing the topic so there’d be no sidestepping.

“It wasn’t a dream,” she whispered. “I wasn’t even asleep yet. I was tired and I was thinking that I was lying on the best bed I’d slept on in months. Lots and lots of months. I was lying on the bed staring up at the ceiling and trying to make my brain shut down. My head was aching a bit around my temples so I was just rubbing my head and trying to relax. And then . . .”

“Then what, Ramie?”

She hesitated, wondering just how far she should take things with Caleb. How much she could trust him with. What if he turned on her? What if he’d worked some sort of sick trade where he handed Ramie over, gift-wrapped and in a bow in exchange for Tori and her continued safety? Maybe they were just throwing her under the bus so that none of their family would be remotely involved—or responsible for a man being brought to justice.

He stared her down with those ice-blue eyes that could at times seem glacial. Like he could freeze someone at a glance. Her skin prickled. As if she weren’t cold enough already.

As if sensing her chill, or perhaps clued in by the fact that the entire bed was shaking with her, he pulled the blankets over them both and tugged Ramie back into his arms so there was no space between.

Heat scorched over her skin, warming her from the inside out. She hated that her T-shirt was a barrier between his bare skin and her own. She slipped her hands, palms down on his chest, between them, ignoring his flinch over the coldness of her touch. Gradually they both relaxed as more of his warmth seeped into her body.

His lips were tantalizingly close to hers. Their breaths mingled and it was so silent she could hear his heartbeat. Could feel it beneath her fingertips.

“Kiss me,” she pleaded softly. “Make me forget.”

Their lips touched tenderly, just a gentle brush that trailed warmth all the way to her heart.

“Forget what, Ramie? You have to talk to me. If I’m going to keep you safe, you can’t keep me in the dark.”

The spell was broken and the cold returned. A shiver stole up her spine and she gathered the covers, rolling onto her back and pulling them to her chin. She stared blindly up at the ceiling as Caleb lay beside her, his strong body touching her side.

“He spoke to me,” she said quietly. “I’m not crazy. It’s not my subconscious or me projecting my fear nor is it the manifestation of my fears or paranoia. He has a link to me. It’s how he always manages to find me. It’s how he knows where I am now.”

Caleb went rigid next to her. She chanced a glance out of the corner of her eye and saw that his face was every bit as tense as the rest of him. What she didn’t see, however, was disbelief.

Relief coursed through her veins, making her heady, dizzy almost, as though she’d just had an IV injection of alcohol or a potent drug.

“You believe me,” she said in wonder. “You believe me.”

He slid his large hand over her belly, splaying his fingers outward and then he continued upward until his fingers gently touched her chin and he pushed it in his direction so her gaze met his.

His stare was serious, intense. The blue was more vivid, darker, not as glacial as it normally was. His eyes looked . . . ​warm. Tender. It wasn’t the look he’d give a stranger. Or someone he considered a threat or even a casual acquaintance. It was an intimate look, and sincerity was evident in every facet of his face.

“I believe you, Ramie.”

She closed her eyes, this time not fighting the tears as they gathered and burned a trail down her cheeks. He believed her.

“What did he say to you?” Caleb asked in a terse voice.

The fury in his voice shook her from her emotional response. She hastily wiped away the tears with her hand and then turned slowly onto her side so she once more faced him.

“He knows where I am. Or at least he knows what it looks like. He told me that if I believed all these security measures would prevent him from getting to me that I was a very stupid woman. He said there was nowhere I could hide that he wouldn’t find me and that my death wouldn’t be quick or merciful unless I was a very g-good g-girl and then he’d consider k-killing me quickly.”

She was barely able to choke the words out. It felt as though a ton of cement were pressing down on her chest.

“I’m not ready to die, Caleb,” she whispered. “I thought I was. I gave up. I’m ashamed to admit this, but I have to be honest with you. I resigned myself to my own death. I even thought it was what I wanted, that maybe I’d finally find peace. But then when confronted with my death, when he caught me outside my hotel room, I found myself fighting back. I ran. I didn’t give up. And I called you. Because I knew you were my only hope. I have no one else. No family. No one who cares. I realized that I wasn’t ready to die. No matter what I may have thought. Or how wimpy I’ve become. And that it doesn’t matter that I don’t have anything or anyone to live for. I’m not ready to die.”

Caleb’s hand slid over her cheek and then delved into her hair as he pulled her to meet his lips. Their noses bumped and nudged as he figured out the best angle and then his tongue glided over hers, tasting, savoring.

Their breaths were noisy in the silence. The only sounds were the rapid puffs of air, the sound of their mouths as they molded hotly to one another and the harsh sounds of their breathing as they sucked in breath after breath through distended nostrils.