The Missing (38 page)

The most obvious scar was the one on the right side of her chest, a fairly neat little wound that was still red and puckered. The thin scars from the drainage tubes were a lot less noticeable, and she knew they’d fade even more with time.

The dress she’d chosen covered those scars and still managed to be sexy and feminine. Everything a bride’s dress should be. The longer, thinner scar on her back wasn’t completely hidden, but Taige had no plans of hiding away every scar she’d acquired in her lifetime. It wasn’t like Cullen would let her, anyway.

“I can’t believe this is real,” she said, more to herself than anyone else.

Stepping into the room, Dez closed the door behind her and then crossed over to stand at Taige’s shoulder. “It’s real, sugar. And you deserve it one hundred percent.” She grinned, a wide, wicked grin, and winked. “But if you wanna take off running, I’ll stand in for you. That man of yours is something else. Those eyes of his . . .” She rolled her eyes and pressed a hand to her chest. “Talk about intense.”

Narrowing her eyes, Taige said, “Whatever you’re thinking . . . just stop. I’d hate to kill my only bridesmaid right before the wedding.”

Dez laughed. “Girl, you are so gone over on this guy.” There was a knock at the door, and Dez went to answer, stepping aside to let Jillian come in.

Jillian had on a blue dress she’d picked out, and she already had her white basket looped over her arm. Faintly, Taige could smell the fragrant, sweet flower petals held inside the white wicker.

Taige hadn’t really wanted a formal wedding or anything, but somebody had mentioned
flower girl
, and Jillian’s eyes had widened. Unable to deny the girl something she obviously wanted, Taige had decided against trying to talk Cullen into a simple civil ceremony at the courthouse.

It hadn’t taken any time to fall in love with Jillian. It might have taken years to find her, but Taige knew in her heart that Jillian was hers—her daughter. Every bit as much as hers as she would have been if Taige had been the one to carry Jillian inside her and give birth to her. “You look beautiful, angel,” Taige said with a smile, turning on her stool to look at Jillian as Robert escorted the child inside.

Jillian grinned, her nose crinkling. “You, too.”

Taige glanced down at her dress, still feeling a little self-conscious. Okay, a lot self-conscious. She could probably count on one hand how many times she’d worn a dress in the past ten years. And still have fingers left over. So the strapless, sarong confection made of silk and scattered with small, delicate pearls and sequins was definitely not something she was used to.

Jillian peered down at Taige’s feet. “You really aren’t wearing any shoes, are you?”

Taige shrugged. “I don’t like to, anyway.”

Cocking her head, Jillian stuck out her foot, studying the white straps of her sandals. “Can I go barefoot, too?”

“I wouldn’t mind a bit.”

While Jillian went to work on her sandals, Taige looked up at the man who was about to become her father-in-law. Robert hadn’t aged as much as she would have thought, considering how much hell he’d been through the past twelve years. That many years could change people a lot, and the violent death of his wife, the kidnapping of his granddaughter—well, some people would have broken under it.

Robert hadn’t, though. The lines around his eyes were deeper, and his blond hair had gone mostly silver, but he was still a handsome guy. He smiled at her, and she felt her heart melt a little. There was a lot of Cullen in that smile—or maybe it was more that Cullen had a lot of Robert inside him. They looked alike, and Taige figured if Cullen looked as good pushing sixty as Robert did, Taige was going to be beating the women away from her husband with a stick in thirty years.

“Jillian’s right. You do look beautiful.” He glanced around and then nodded to the doorway that opened to a huge balcony. “Mind if we step outside for a few minutes?”

She followed him outside and moved over to the railing as Robert shut the door.

“Are you nervous?”

Taige grimaced. “Nervous? No. I don’t know if nervous describes it.”

“Any doubts?”

A smile spread across her face until she knew she was grinning like a fool. “Doubts? Not a one.”

Robert nodded. “Good.” He leaned his elbows on the wrought iron balcony railing and stared out over the beach.

Taige hadn’t done much of anything for the wedding other than pick out her dress and tell Cullen she’d like to go to Europe for a honeymoon. Cullen had hired somebody to take care of the details, and right now, those people were attending to chores like setting up some chairs out on the beach and tables that scattered across the huge backyard.

“You know, the first time I saw you with Cullen, I knew you were the one for him,” Robert said abruptly. He gave a faint smile and shrugged. “There was just something about the way he looked at you. Reminded me of how I felt when I looked at his mama back when we first got together. I knew he loved you; he never told me that, but he didn’t have to.”

Taige swallowed the knot in her throat and looked away so he wouldn’t see her blinking back tears. Damn it, she’d gone and put makeup on and everything.

“After his mama died . . .” Robert’s voice trailed, and he blew out a rough sigh. “It was a hard time for both of us, but I guess I don’t need to tell you that. I know he did something or said something to hurt you. I saw you when you left, and I knew you were upset. I tried to catch you, but you were moving too quick, and you never even heard me.”

He paused, and in the weighted silence, she knew he was waiting for some kind of response. She glanced at him, one quick sidelong glance, as she tried to figure out what he wanted her to say. “That was a long time ago, Robert,” was all she could manage, and it sounded completely lame. Even if it was true—so what if it sometimes felt like yesterday?

“Yeah. It was a long time ago, but time doesn’t undo harsh words or actions, now does it?”

Forgetting about her dress, her carefully done hair, and the makeup she’d worked on for nearly thirty-five minutes, Taige turned around and leaned against the iron balcony. She ran a hand back over her hair and then crossed her arms in front of her. “It’s over, and it’s done. Cullen wasn’t in a good place right then. He needed somebody to lash out at, and I was there. Hell, he wasn’t much more than a kid at the time, a kid who had just lost his mom in a very bad way. I’m not going to hold that kid’s mistakes against the man he is now.”

With a sad smile, Robert shook his head. “Cullen stopped being a kid the day we found out what had been done to his mama, Taige. But that isn’t really what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Perplexed, she stared at him. “If that’s not it, then what?”

“Jillian.” Robert slid his eyes back toward the French doors. Through the transparent, filmy gray curtains, they could see Jillian as she talked with Dez. Her face was animated, and showed a happy smile. “Have you . . . I don’t know how to ask this. But have you been doing anything with her?”

Wary, Taige asked, “Anything like what?”

Robert laughed. “Honey, you and me are about to become family. Considering how you saved Jillian, what you did for her with Cullen, as far as I’m concerned, you are family. Stop looking like you expect me to take a swing at you and start accusing you of something awful.” Then he shrugged. “Anything like—hell, I don’t really know how to explain. She’s just different. Happier.”

He glanced back at Taige, sadness creeping into his voice as he murmured, “All her life, she’s been different. It’s made her so unhappy.” Looking back at Taige, Robert said quietly, “You know what she can do.”

“Yes.”

“It’s always interfered with her life. Kept her from being the kid she should be. Even when that gift, or whatever you call it, was quiet for months on end, she wasn’t like other kids. But now I see her laughing. I see her making friends around here, and I see her talking to people like she’s talking to your friend in there.” Robert glanced at her, and there was a world of emotion in his eyes, emotions she suspected he couldn’t even begin to voice. “Jillian’s never really had a childhood—not the kind she should have had. And then, right when she should have been a mess inside and still trying to cope with what happened, you show up. The day Cullen brought you home from the hospital, she was different.”

Taige started to lie. Discussing her abilities with people wasn’t ever something she enjoyed doing. It was like breathing to her. A person didn’t go around explaining how they managed to take in oxygen and blow out CO
₂
, did they? But Robert was right. They were about to become family, and hiding what she’d been trying to do with Jillian wasn’t the way to start off any kind of relationship. “Jillian has next to no natural shields,” she finally said. “None. With her gift, she needs them. Otherwise, contact with others can be overwhelming. It’s almost like attention deficit—she has too much stimulation coming in, and her way of dealing with it is to lock down, to shy away from others.”

Pushing off the railing, she moved to the French doors, staring through the curtains at Jillian and Dez. “Without those shields, she’s vulnerable. It’s probably his thick head, but Cullen’s not an easy psychic read. That might be why she never had to learn the intuitive skills a lot of kids like her—and me, I guess—had to learn.”

Understanding dawned even before she started the actual explanation part. “You’re shielding her. Or teaching her how?”

Shaking her head, Taige said, “Jillian isn’t ready for that. What happened when . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to say Leon’s name, or even mention him. “What happened this summer did a lot more trauma than we can see, but she’s hiding from that. I know Cullen’s told you about the visits to the therapist. Right now, she’s got herself in a mental cocoon over the kidnapping. Once she’s handling this better, I can start working with her on shielding, but she’s had enough stress for a while.” With a bitter laugh, she added, “That girl has had enough stress to last her entire life.”

Turning away, she stared back down at the beach. “I’m shielding her as best as I can. Part of her brain, I think, is trying to back away from her ability, anyway. Almost like some kind of cancer going into remission on its own. That’s the only way I can think to explain. So it’s making the shielding part pretty easy for me. As long as nothing tries to force it out, it’s going to keep hiding until she’s more ready to deal with it.”

“And when will that be?”

Glancing at him, she said, “My personal opinion . . . never. She shouldn’t have to deal with it.” She heard one of the caterers call out, and suddenly, she panicked. Remembering her dress, her hair, her makeup, she craned her neck around, trying to see if she’d gotten anything on her butt. “Damn it!”

Robert laughed and moved around, checking the back of her dress. “Relax, honey, you’re fine. You look beautiful.” He moved around, inspecting her hair, and then he gave a wry smile. “Admittedly, I don’t know much about a lady’s hair other than my opinion on how it looks, but your hair looks fine.”

He cupped her face in his hands, and Taige felt a familiar nervousness move through her. She hated to have people touching her. But Cullen’s natural reticence must have come from Robert, because she didn’t pick up anything from him. “Make him happy, Taige. And don’t be afraid to let him make you happy. You both deserve it.”

Her throat knotted. “Now, you keep going on like that, you’re going to get me all weepy.”

Robert laughed. Then he kissed her forehead. He started to say something else, but something happened before he could. Terror. Harsh and unrelenting. She recognized the source before her brain had even started to process it. Automatically, her hand went to her side, but she wasn’t wearing her weapon.

Taige hadn’t worn the Glock in more than a month, and she could remembering thinking she’d be perfectly content to never wear it again. Except in that instant.

Snarling, she moved away from Robert and strode inside. Taylor Jones was crouched in front of Jillian, a familiar look on his face. “Leave her alone, Jones,” she said, her voice harsh and cold.

Taylor gave her a smile. “I’m not doing anything more than asking how she’s been.”

Not aloud, maybe. But Taylor knew how Jillian’s gift worked. Taige knew the man too well to believe otherwise. The little mental pokes and prods were one of his training tools, tools that Taige remembered all too well. And the bastard was using them on a child.