Run to Me (30 page)

Her eyes blinking back the pouring water, she stepped closer. “What are you saying?”

“That I’m no one’s prize, but I’m yours for as long as you want me.”

She stared at him for so long, he figured she was having second thoughts about wanting him for any time at all. Then, giving him the smile he’d fallen in love with, she held out her hand. “Then come wash my back.”

Ethan stepped into the shower, pulled her close, and slammed his mouth down on hers.

Moaning into his mouth, Shea wrapped her arms around him as if she would never let him go.

Ethan refused to even wish for that kind of miracle.

Shea slid into jeans and pulled on a long-sleeved white shirt. An odd, desperate need to see Ethan hammered at her heart. After making love to her the entire night, he’d left just after dawn. In that growling whisper that always sent shivers of delight through her, he’d told her to get some sleep and he’d wake her for breakfast. That had been hours ago.

Shea spared another glance at the clock. It was past nine. She’d heard Gabe arrive just as she got out of bed. Instead of scampering downstairs in her nightgown, she had to take the time to shower and throw her clothes on. She slid her feet into socks but didn’t bother to find her shoes. A strange tension radiated down her spine and though she told herself she was being silly, she had an odd premonition that Ethan needed her.

Pulling her hair into a hasty ponytail, she scurried across the bedroom and out the door. Last night with Ethan had been all she could want, with the exception of one thing. He seemed to believe that at some point she’d no longer want him. A ridiculous idea, but she felt the need to go to him and reassure him that she would always want him.

She ran down the stairs and then stopped on the bottom step, startled to see the two men glaring at each other in the middle of the living room. Ethan’s face was a hard mask of fury. Gabe’s expression was one of grim determination. She’d obviously walked in on an argument.

Politeness told her to back out and let them have their privacy. Self-preservation told her to stay put. These men were friends. Whatever they were arguing about most likely involved her. Gabe didn’t like her, for some reason. And though Ethan’s defense of her had been nice when she’d been ill, that time was over. If she needed defending, she’d do it herself.

Shea took the last step and stood between them. “What’s wrong?”

Gabe’s blue eyes seared her before returning to Ethan. “I came with some news. I’m not sure Ethan wants me to share it, though.”

“I didn’t say that.”

The violent fury in Ethan’s voice surprised her. What had happened?

“It’s Shea’s decision. Right, Ethan?”

“Of course it’s her decision. I don’t need you telling me that.”

“Stop it, both of you.” She placed a hand on Ethan’s arm, surprised at the vibrating tension she could feel surging through him. “Ethan, I know you’re trying to protect me, but I make my own decisions.” Her eyes deliberately cooler, she looked at Gabe. “I can only assume you have news, and while I’m pretty sure you’re not here with the intention to help me, you’re right, I do deserve to know.”

His eyes flickered with what looked like a small amount of regret. He nodded at Ethan. “Tell your watchdog.”

She arched a brow. He wanted to act like an arrogant ass, she’d damn well show him she could do the same. “He’s not my watchdog. He’s my friend. Now, either tell me what you have to tell me or leave.”

“Shea, you—”

Shea took Ethan’s hand and held it against her heart. “It’s all right. Whatever Gabe’s got to say, I can handle.”

After a visible swallow, Ethan growled, “Tell her.”

“Dr. Norton’s people have developed a drug to counteract what you were given. You should be able to regain full memory.”

Well, so much for her spurt of courage. Nausea poured into her stomach as a cold wave of fear washed over her. She’d known they were working on this, and when it hadn’t seemed feasible, she’d told herself it was what she wanted more than anything. Now the possibility of remembering everything loomed before her, and Shea no longer knew if she had the courage to face it.

Without conscious thought, she found herself wrapping her arms around Ethan’s waist. He hugged her hard. This was why he had reacted as he had. He knew how hard this would be on her. How well he knew her.

Warm breath caressed her ear as he whispered, “Whatever you want to do, it’s up to you. If you decide to go through with it, I’ll be right beside you. But if you don’t want to, everyone will understand.”

A lump of emotion swelled inside her throat. Ethan had done so much for her, given her more than she could ever imagine. Her faith in him absolute, she tilted her head to look up at him. “But if I don’t, Rosemount might never be caught.”

“We still have Jamie. We’ll try to get what we need from him.”

Shea jerked her head around at Gabe’s snort. “What?”

“Jamie doesn’t know a damn thing. Except for one brief videoconference, every communication he’s had with Rosemount was through email or by phone. The bastard gave him as little information as possible.”

“How do you know he’s telling the truth?”

A shadow crossed Gabe’s face. “We know.”

Shea got the distinct impression that she didn’t want to know how they knew Jamie was telling the truth.

“If you don’t want to do this, Shea, I’ll find another way,” Ethan said.

A flash of fear sent shivers rushing through her. Ethan wanted to kill Rosemount—he’d already told her that. Having him anywhere near that bastard filled her with much more horror than regaining her memories. She could deal with her past much better than she could deal with anything happening to Ethan.

Burrowing closer in his arms, she shivered again. Nothing could happen to Ethan.

“Want me to get your sweater?”

She nodded. Let him think she was cold. The last thing he needed was to know she was trying to protect him. He’d be furious.

With one last glare at Gabe, Ethan took off upstairs.

Her thoughts on what she knew she had to do, Shea turned toward the window, searching for peace in the beautiful serenity before her. Though she knew for sure that Rosemount hadn’t raped her, she also knew other things had happened to her. What? What had he done to her? What had he made her do? Could she handle knowing all of it?

A soft curse of surprise had her whirling around. Gabe was looking at the sketches she’d done over the last few weeks, trying to come up with Rosemount’s features.

The odd expression on Gabe’s face confused her. “What’s wrong?”

“You drew Cole. Ethan didn’t tell us you’d remembered your husband.”

“My what?” Her legs turned to jelly. Shea reached out for stability and awkwardly dropped onto the couch.

Gabe turned the sketchbook toward her. The features of the man who’d often haunted her dreams stared at her. She gasped for breath as air suddenly became nonexistent. “What do you mean … my husband?”

“Damn you, Gabe.”

Shock roaring through her, she barely flinched when Ethan’s fist slam into Gabe’s jaw. The big man skidded across the hardwood floor. Ethan stood over him. “You bastard.”

“What is he talking about? This man … he’s my husband?” Shea gripped the arm of the sofa to keep from sliding off it, her voice a thin thread of sound. “I have a husband?”

His jaw working, Ethan shook his head. “You had a husband. He’s dead.”

“Dead?”

“Cole Mathison … the operative Rosemount killed in the sting last year,” Ethan said.

Her eyes went to the sketchbook on the floor and then back up to Ethan’s hard face. “That’s why I went after Rosemount. You told me he was just my friend. My God, Ethan, how could you keep something like this from me?”

Shock turned to grief. Dear God, she’d been married. Was a widow. Ethan knew all of this. The reaction he’d had the first time he saw the sketch now made perfect sense. He’d distracted her by pulling her into his arms and kissing her, almost making love to her. She cringed as she remembered how she’d asked him … practically begged him to make love to her. And all the while he’d only done it to sidetrack her. As full comprehension hit, she recognized the manipulation. One he’d carefully orchestrated to keep her from finding out the truth.

“You lied to me. Why?”

Ethan’s expression was one of deep regret, and yet, how did she know that wasn’t a lie, too?

“To protect you.”

“From a dead man?”

“You were hurt enough. Telling you about Cole wouldn’t have changed anything. You didn’t need—”

“Don’t tell me what I didn’t need. Ethan, I trusted you to tell me the truth. How could you keep this from me?”

When he didn’t answer, Shea stood and walked slowly toward him, tears blurring her vision. “Talk to me. Please … why didn’t you tell me the man I drew was once my husband?”

“I did what I thought was best.”

“Why would it be best not to know that I had been married? That my husband had died?”

“I didn’t want to cause you more pain.”

“More pain than remembering that I kidnapped and terrorized innocent people? That I was the captive pet of a madman? That I’d been tortured? My God, Ethan, how much more painful could it have been? I asked you to tell me everything, even the most painful things.” Shea swallowed past the lump of disillusionment clogging her throat. “I trusted you. More than anyone else in the world, I trusted you.”

Ethan’s grim voice repeated, “I did what I thought was best.”

“That’s it? You have no better explanation?”

Jaw clenched against pain, Ethan shook his head, unable to say anything else in his defense. What could he say? He had no real excuse. Hadn’t he told himself all along that once she found out, she would hate him? Being right gave him zero comfort.

Shea’s expression was one of deepest hurt as she whirled around and ran upstairs.

“I’m sorry, Ethan. I saw the sketch and thought she’d remembered him.”

Though part of him wanted to rip Gabe’s head off, Ethan knew his friend had only quickened what was going to happen anyway. Now his only worry was for Shea. Because of his inability to tell her about Cole, she would question everything he’d told her, leaving her wondering what was really the truth.

Within minutes, Shea was back downstairs, suitcase and coat in her hand.

“Shea … don’t leave.”

Without acknowledging him with even a glance, she swept up her sketchbook and made her way to the door. “I’ll wait for you in the car, Mr. Maddox,” she said, her voice dripping with ice.

Ethan reached out a hand to her, then let it drop to his side when he saw her shrink away from him. No matter how much she might hate him, he couldn’t let her do this. “Wait. I’ll tell you everything. You don’t have to take the drugs.”

“It’s too late for that.” Still not meeting his eyes, she shook her head as her throat moved convulsively. “How can I trust you again?” She turned and went out the door.

Gabe blew out a long sigh. “Hell, man, I’ll try to make her understand—”

“Just go, Gabe. Shea’s out there by herself.”

Before Gabe went through the door, Ethan said, “One thing. You damn well better protect her with your life. If something happens to her because of what you told her, or what I couldn’t, I won’t rest until we’ve both paid. Understand?”

With a jerk of his head in understanding, Gabe left.

Hollowed out, Ethan’s eyes roamed around the room. It looked the same as before but was totally different. Shea was gone, and with her, all the light and beauty had disappeared. The room, the entire house, was devoid of life.

Ethan closed his eyes against the glare of emptiness. He should have told her. Had known he’d pay the price at some point. And now, her trust was once again destroyed.

He stalked up the stairs. Regret and pain would continue. He had no choice in that. But he damn well wouldn’t let her go through this alone. Protecting Shea was still his number one priority. She wouldn’t like it, but when those memories returned, Ethan would be right beside her. After that, she would no doubt tell him to go to hell. That wouldn’t be a problem. He knew from experience that without Shea in his life, there was nowhere else to go.

Tense silence filled the car as Gabe drove her to the airport. Shea kept her eyes straight ahead. She hadn’t uttered a word since she’d gotten in the car, over forty minutes ago. Still stunned from the shock of learning she’d been married, she was swamped with unbelievable anguish at Ethan’s betrayal. The one man she’d trusted above all others had kept this from her. Information vitally important to who she had been, what she had been. Why?

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you found out that way,” Gabe said.

She remained silent.

“Also, I want you to know that though I didn’t believe you before, I believe you now.”

Now, that statement required a reply. “Excuse me, Mr. Maddox, for apparently giving you the wrong impression.”

Gabe shot her a confused look. “Wrong impression?”

“You seem to be under the misconception that I give a damn what you think about me. I don’t. Whether you believed me or not hasn’t made an ounce of difference to me. Do I make myself clear?”

His head gave a quick jerk of acknowledgment. “Crystal.”

“Then please give me the courtesy of not talking. Further words are not necessary.”

“Message received loud and clear.”

She turned back to the window, and silence once more filled the car.

Several minutes passed. Then Gabe, who apparently couldn’t leave well enough alone said, “You broke his heart once, you know. Almost destroyed him.”

Shea tried to ignore the skitter of her heart, but wasn’t this what she’d feared all along? That she had been the one to break Ethan’s heart? Could she learn the truth from Gabe or just his version? “Is that the truth … or just how you interpreted it?”

Gabe shrugged. “Ethan was crazy in love with you. You up and married his best friend. How else should I interpret it?”

“My husband was Ethan’s best friend?” God, that just didn’t make sense. What would possess her to even marry someone else, much less Ethan’s best friend?