The Darkest Hour (KGI #1)(46)

“You look like hell,” she scolded. Then she sank into a chair across from him and grasped his hands in hers. “How is she?”

He swallowed the knot in his throat. “She’s okay. I left her sleeping. Garrett’s there.”

“How is she really?” she asked softly.

He closed his eyes. “She’s fragile, Ma. Those bastards . . . those bastards kept her prisoner for a year. A year. A year where she needed me, where she went through God knows what.”

He choked back a sob, ashamed to be breaking down in front of his mother, for God’s sake.

She rose and he was back in her arms, her arms wrapped tight around his shoulders, and he turned into her as he’d done when he was a child, his grief muffled by her shirt.

“You should have come sooner,” she soothed. “This is too much for you to stand up under alone, son. There are so many of us who will help you, but you have to let us.”

“She needs me,” he said hoarsely. “I failed her already. I won’t do it again.”

“Are you failing her by taking a moment to see the mother who is worried sick over you while Garrett watches over her?”

“He called you.”

“Yes, he said you were coming. And it’s about time. Did you think we’d storm the castle or not understand if you couldn’t bring her to us yet? We’re so worried for you both, Ethan. I want to see her so bad I hurt. I want to hold her in my arms again. I want to see my daughter. But I can wait.”

“Ethan, you’re home.”

Ethan looked up, then hastily away, as his father entered the kitchen. His emotional outburst was bad enough in front of his mom, but to break down in front of his father was more than he could stand.

That thought fled the moment his father hauled him up and crushed him in his beefy embrace. His father wept openly, his big body shaking convulsively as great sobs tore out of his chest.

“Thank God, thank God you’re home. Your mother and I were so worried. And then Sam and Van came home alone. You’ll never know what it was like seeing them come in the door so dirty and haggard and not seeing you and Garrett. It was as bad as the day they told us Rachel died.”

“I’m sorry,” Ethan said as he cupped the back of his father’s head. “I never meant to scare you or Ma. But we couldn’t tell you. Not until we were sure. I’d never get your hopes up like that.”

“So it’s really her? She’s home?” his dad asked hoarsely.

“She’s home,” Ethan said, allowing the joy of that statement to flood his chest.

Now his mom’s eyes filled with tears again, and she raised her shaking hands to her face.

“Bring her to us soon, Ethan. Dinner. Just like old times. We won’t push her, I swear. Just let us see her. Everyone loves her so much.”

Ethan wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and reached for her hand. “I will, Ma. Sunday, okay? Sunday dinner just like old times. The family will be together again.”

“Praise God,” she breathed out. “Oh, Ethan, it’s a miracle. You’ve been given such a precious gift.”

He smiled at her, touching her damp cheek with his fingers. “I know. I won’t screw it up this time.”

She frowned at that, but he turned to his father before she could question his meaning.

“I’m really sorry we scared you. Things happened so fast. If it was Rachel, we had to get in there fast, and if it wasn’t, we didn’t want you to go through the loss all over again.”

“It’s okay, son. The important thing is my boys and my daughter are home again where they belong. I can’t ask for more than that.”

“Let me fix you something to eat,” Marlene said as she bustled around the counter toward the fridge. “You can take leftovers home for Rachel.”

He hedged, checking his watch. He’d already been gone half an hour.

“She’ll be fine with Garrett,” his mom said in a quiet, understanding voice. “You need a break, Ethan. Let me feed you. You probably haven’t eaten a thing I’ve sent over since you’ve been home.”

“When have I ever turned down your cooking, Ma?”

She smiled when he cracked a grin.

“That’s better. Now sit. Talk to your father while I whip up supper. Garrett will call if she needs you and you can be home in less than five minutes.”

THE dream was the same. Ethan was angry, his features drawn into a dark cloud. Despair washed over her in waves, and a feeling of helplessness assaulted her. More powerful than her fear of her captors. No, that was in the past. Now she faced something worse.

Was it a nightmare? Some terrible image fueled by her fears and insecurities, or was she remembering more about her life with Ethan?

She twisted, held captive to her dreams. A tortured moan escaped her over and over, and all she could think was He doesn’t love you. It’s not real.

“Rachel. Rachel. Wake up, sweet pea. You’re dreaming. Come back to me.”

She shrank away from the soft croon, and her eyes fluttered open. She blinked rapidly as Garrett’s face came into view. Relief staggered her, and she felt sick that she was relieved it wasn’t Ethan kneeling next to the couch.

She grabbed at his hand and clutched tightly, her heart threatening to beat right out of her chest.