Shattered (LOST #3)(37)

She sounded as if that really bothered her. But then, that was her thing, right? “You have to understand everyone.” He figured that was part of her profiler gig. Seeing people, breaking down their motivations, learning their secrets.

“I just . . .” She raked a hand through her hair. “Why do you want to help me?”

“Because I find that I don’t like the idea of anyone hurting you.” In fact, that idea really pissed him off.

Her lips parted, as if she would respond, but then Sarah turned and made her way slowly to the bathroom. Her hand lifted and curled around the door frame. With her back to him, she said, “You saved my life today.”

“Yours . . . and that jerk Wade.” Jax would make sure Wade realized he owed Jax a serious debt.

She looked over at him, a faint smile curving her lips and chasing a few of the shadows from her eyes. “I guess that means Wade and I both owe you.”

“I figure it’s extra motivation. Once this case is over, you’ll bust ass to find my family.”

Her smile slipped away and he wished he could call the words back. He wished—

“I am going to find your family, Jax. And I’m sorry that you’re having to wait, even longer, to learn the truth about your past. I will find them. I promise, I won’t give up until you have the answers that you’ve been looking for.”

He believed her. There was too much sincerity in her eyes and in her soft voice. He took a step toward her, but Sarah disappeared into the bathroom. A few moments later, he heard the rush of water as her shower turned on.

He stared at the closed door a moment longer, then he turned and made his way back to her bed. Her suitcase was at the foot of the bed. Her computer was close by. She’d dropped her phone and purse on the chair—he’d have to thank Carlos for finding those at the scene.

The room . . . it smelled like Sarah. Sweet vanilla. Every time he caught that scene in the future, he’d think of her. Always . . . her.

He turned toward the river. The water glinted, shining and—

Had Sarah just called out for him? He whirled around, sure that he’d heard her voice. Heard her say—

“Jax.”

The call came again. A little louder and he was across that room in an instant. His hand lifted and banged against the door. “Sarah, are you all right?”

The water was pounding down. He didn’t hear her. “Sarah?”

Then . . . a muffled cry. Like a—sob?

He twisted the knob. It turned easily in his grasp and he shoved the door open as his heart raced.

Sarah was in the shower, behind the glass, and tendrils of steam drifted in the air around her. Her head had been pressed to the tile, and one hand was over her mouth, as if she were trying to muffle her cries.

“Sarah?”

She jerked away from the wall and looked up at him, and that was when he realized . . . the water on her cheeks wasn’t just from the shower. Sarah was crying.

“You’re hurt.” Dammit, he should have insisted that she go to the hospital and get checked out. That exam in the ambulance had been a joke. He rushed across that little room and yanked open the shower door.

Sarah’s arms crossed over her chest, as if she were hiding her breasts, trying to shield herself. Hell, the last thing she needed to do was shield that beautiful body from him.

He reached out and turned off the spray of water.

She watched him, her eyes stark, tears still glinting in her gaze.

“It’s okay,” he told her, speaking softly. “You know you’re safe with me.” He grabbed a towel from the rack and opened it up for her. “Always, my Sarah. Always.”

He held the towel out to her even as his gaze darted over her body, looking for injuries. He could see some bruises forming. Most of the blood had been washed away, but there had to be a serious wound because Sarah was crying and she—

He wrapped the towel around her as she stepped from the shower. His arms slid over her shoulders as he pulled her against him. “You have to tell me where it hurts,” he said. So I can fix it. So I can fix you.

“She’s going to die,” Sarah whispered. “Because of me.”

He stiffened.

“Wade almost died . . . because of me. Sometimes, I think I’m cursed. That I just bring pain and death to everyone around me.”

Like he hadn’t thought that same shit about himself a time or twenty.

He tipped up her chin and stared down into her eyes. “Baby, you’re not cursed.”

Her laughter sounded more like a sob. “No, I’m just evil.”

The fuck she was.

“I could have stopped all of this. I should have.” A teardrop slid down her cheek. “I heard the screams, and I—I just let him tell me that they were only bad dreams. The wind. I believed everything . . . anything he said.”

Her pain was cutting into him.

“You’re supposed to love your father, right? And I did. That’s what makes it even worse. I loved him, while he was killing them.”

He held her tighter. “Sarah . . .”

She shuddered in his arms. She was naked and beautiful, and sex was the last thing on his mind. He wanted to hold her, take her pain away. Make her smile. Make those tears stop.

Her eyes squeezed shut. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Please, just give me a minute.” She tried to pull away from him. He didn’t let go.