Long Road Home(49)

Manny was beside her in an instant. “Careful. Don’t cut yourself.” He pulled her away from the shards of glass littering the floor.

She stumbled, her movements stiff and awkward. Tears ran in unending trails down her cheeks.

“Jules, what’s wrong?” he demanded.

She stared up at him, knew he was there, but it just didn’t register. She was numb from head to toe except for feeling the dampness of the tears slipping over her cheeks. And worse, she was powerless to stop them.

He grasped her by her shoulders and shook her gently. “Jules, snap out of it. What’s going on?”

She tried to speak, but her voice caught on a sob, and somewhere deep inside, she splintered. So this was what it felt like when you went crazy. Somehow she expected more violence. Some insane outburst. Not this quiet breakdown.

Manny pulled her into his arms and swayed back and forth as he murmured something unintelligible against her ear. Then he lifted her. Carried her up the stairs. She felt the softness of the bed. God, she was so tired.

He left her for a moment. She heard his voice seemingly miles away. He was on the phone with someone. He sounded concerned.

A moment later, the bed dipped, the covers pulled back. Manny’s hard body wrapped protectively around her, his arms sheltering her. She found herself settled against his broad chest.

She lay there for a while, cognizant of the fact that her tears still fell. And yet the most peculiar, wonderful thing had happened. She no longer felt the overwhelming pain she had carried around for so long. She probed inward, trying to rediscover the anguish, the guilt and the fear she lived with. The truth was the only thing she felt was bone-deep fatigue.

She closed her eyes, fully expecting to see the nightmarish visions that had haunted her existence for the last three years. But all she saw was a black void, just what everyone else saw when they closed their eyes.

Relief filtered through her mind. A reprieve from the weight of a million emotions felt to her as if she’d left prison after a long stint in solitary confinement. She liked this weightless floaty feeling.

She snuggled deeper into Manny’s arms, arms that tightened protectively around her. Then she simply let go.

Chapter Twenty-Three

She’d been sleeping for eighteen hours, and Manuel was worried. He slouched further into the too-small chair he’d carried up so he could keep watch on Jules. She’d slept all yesterday afternoon, all of last night and through this morning. Without so much as a twitch.

He’d talked to Tony about taking her to a hospital, but their hands were tied until he knew for sure Jules would be safe. He couldn’t take her out in public. Too many people were after her. His own agency for one.

So he’d sat and waited. Now they were just a day away, one day, from a meeting that could change their lives for the better. Or the worse.

He sighed and scrubbed his face tiredly with one hand. He hadn’t slept a damn wink all night. How could he when the woman he loved was falling apart and he was powerless to help her?

More and more he was giving thought to taking Jules out of the country if the senator didn’t come through. He couldn’t stand by and watch her suffer for crimes she’d been forced to commit, even if it meant turning his back on everything he believed.

Somewhere warm, carefree, and more importantly with no extradition agreement with the U.S.

He hoped like hell it didn’t come to that, but he had to face reality. It could. And if it did, he needed to be prepared. He needed to talk to Jules about it, but he wasn’t sure how much she could handle right now. She could break at any moment. She had broken.

He jerked his head up when he heard her stir. Her eyes fluttered open, and he surged forward out of his chair.

“Jules?” he said softly. He didn’t want to alarm her.

She blinked a few times then stared at him with empty eyes. “How long have I slept?” she asked hoarsely.

“It’s nearly nine a.m.”

“You mean I slept the entire day? Yesterday I mean.” Her brow wrinkled in confusion, and her eyes grew cloudier.

He smoothed a hand over her forehead, trying to ease the tension ingrained there. “How do you feel?”

She pursed her lips and appeared to consider his question. “I don’t feel much of anything.”

Alarm shot through him. She wasn’t there. Jules was there on the bed in front of him, but she simply wasn’t there. She was someplace else, and damned if he knew where. It scared the hell out of him.

“Want a bath?” he asked softly.

She didn’t say anything for a long while, then finally she nodded.

“Wait here. I’ll go run the water.”

He walked into the bathroom, panic swelling in his chest. How could he reach her? Get past the fog and shadows surrounding her? And what had pushed her over the edge?

When the tub was filled, he went back into the bedroom to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, her legs dangling over the side. She looked lost. And extremely vulnerable. Not even when she was lying in a hospital bed had she looked so defeated.

He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. “Jules, are you okay?”

Her blue eyes focused on him. She blinked rapidly as if banishing cobwebs. Then she offered him a tremulous smile. “I’m fine.”

He put a finger to her forehead and gently rubbed across her head. “What’s going on in there, baby?”