Whispers in the Dark (KGI #4)(37)

Slowly she shook her head. “Let me get cleaned up first, Nathan. It looks worse than it is right now. There’s no sense you getting worked up. After I shower, you can see.”

He frowned. It was likely the opposite was true. It was worse than he thought, and she wanted time to clean up to try to make it look better.

“I’ll be waiting when you get out,” he murmured. “I have a first aid kit in the jeep. I’ll get it while you’re in the bathroom.”

SHEA stood under the spray, eyes closed, her brow creased in pain. She’d scrubbed the blood and dirt from her body, but there was nothing she could do about the bruises.

Her legs shook uncontrollably. She’d barely been able to soap her hair because her hands quaked so violently. Reaction had set in and she was a hot mess.

Falling apart.

The horror of the last days hit her like a ton of bricks. She should be jubilant. She should be relieved. She was free. She was safe. Nathan was with her. He’d protect her.

Instead, tears rolled down her cheeks and her knees threatened to give out. She covered her face and tried to control the sobs that bubbled from her chest.

Strong arms came around her. The water turned off, and she stood dripping wet and hiccupping as sob after sob es-

caped.

Nathan pulled away long enough to wrap a towel around her shaking body and then he lifted her into his arms.

“It’s okay, baby,” he murmured against her forehead. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

He set her on the bed then pulled the blanket around her. He kissed her temple. The top of her head. He rained kisses down on her face. Her eyes. Her cheeks.

She turned her face into his neck and burrowed into his warmth. And his strength.

For the longest time he merely held her as silent sobs spilled from her chest. He caressed her hair, ran his hand down her blanket-covered body and simply sat in silence while he waited for her to collect herself.

She loved that he didn’t seem to fall apart at her distress. Or that he didn’t demand to know what was wrong so he could fix it. He acted like he understood.

When her sobs diminished to soft puffs of air and the shaking ceased, he pulled her carefully away from his body and stared down into her eyes.

Without a word, without asking permission, he slid the covers down her arms, baring her flesh to his sharp gaze.

Though there was nothing sexual in his assessment, she was achingly aware that his gaze tracked over her naked body.

He pulled at the towel, his hands gentle and nonthreatening. He touched every bruise, his expression fierce. His fingers brushed over the cuts and scrapes she’d collected in her flight through the forest.

The more he discovered, the blacker his expression became. Then he turned her and sucked in his breath at the jagged cut on her thigh.

He grasped her arms and turned her back to meet the fury in his eyes.

“What the hell did they do to you, Shea? And don’t tell me nothing.”

She closed her eyes against the sudden burn of tears. Damn it, she’d only just managed to stop crying and now she was weepy again. A mess. An emotional mess.

“They wanted me to tell them about Grace,” she choked out. “I refused. You can guess the rest.”

He cupped her jaw and feathered his thumb across her cheek and then her lips. “Tell me.”

“They beat me, okay? They held me down and they meted out a very calculated, unemotional beating meant to break me. When that didn’t work, they refused to give me water or food and then they beat me again.”

Tears streaked down her cheeks. Nathan’s face had whitened. His eyes looked tortured, dark and frightfully cold. His hand shook on her face and he looked very much like she felt.

“And the cut on your leg? How did you get it?”

She glanced down and her stomach revolted as the memory of what she’d done came back with startling clarity. Pain snaked down her leg, phantom pain, as if she were enduring the knife slicing her skin all over again.

“They implanted a tracking device. When I escaped, I knew I had to cut it out so they couldn’t find me so easily.”

“Son of a bitch!” he cried hoarsely. “My God, Shea.”

To her shock, his eyes glittered with tears and grief. For her. She swallowed painfully, overcome at the emotion that shone on his face.

“My God, baby, what you went through. It makes me sick. You’ve already been through so much for me. Why didn’t you call for me before now? I could have helped you. There was no need for you to have gone through any of this. I would have helped you. You have to know that.”

She turned her face so that her lips brushed over his palm. She cupped her hand over his and kissed the rough skin. Then she trailed her hand up his arm, crossing over the scars that marred the once smooth flesh.

She touched every one and glanced up at him to see his reaction. He looked sick, like he wanted to pull away from her. She could tell he didn’t want her touching him, drawing attention to the scars that crisscrossed his body. How many more were there that she hadn’t yet seen?

“You had already endured more than any human should ever endure,” she said softly. “You needed time to heal. To go home and be with your family again. You needed to learn to live again, to want to live. I couldn’t ask you to help me when you needed so much more than I did.”

He flinched when she put her fingers to the scar on the side of his neck. He tried to turn away, but she levered herself up and cupped her hand over the puckered flesh.