With Every Breath (17 page)

Then she banged the back of her head against the headrest and closed her eyes, letting out another long sigh.

“God, why do you even
care
?” she hissed. “Why are you here? You've made it very clear that I rate lower than scum in your estimation, so why the sudden concern?”

“It's a habit I seem to have gotten into,” he said mildly. “Saving your ass. At the rate you're going, it's going to be a full-time job.”

She whipped her head around and glared at him. “Get it through your head, Sterling. I am none of your business. What I do or don't do isn't any of your business. You have no right to hold me against my will.”

He shrugged. So it was back to Sterling. Good, in the manner that for the moment she'd regained the fire he was so well acquainted with. Bad, because he liked the sound of his first name on her lips. He liked it a lot. He'd like it even better when they were in bed and he was deep inside her.

“I don't really give a fuck what you think, Eliza. Get
that
through
your
head. You're not getting rid of me, so get over it. Maybe we should call Dane and get his opinion. What do you think? I'm sure he'd be interested in your choice of vacation destination.”

The color leeched from her face and for a moment he thought she was going to pass out.
Fuck
. Yeah, this was as bad as it got. He'd been ninety-nine percent sure that Dane had no fucking clue what was going on with Eliza, and with that reaction, the one percent still out for jury made it unanimous.

“You can't,” she whispered. “Wade,
please
. You don't understand. He will kill every single one of them. Are you hearing what I'm saying? Because I'm
not
making this shit up. I'm not exaggerating nor am I overreacting. Anyone and I mean
anyone
I care about, anyone who has had
any
part of my life in the last ten years will
die
. I am the
only
one who can stop that from happening. You have no
idea
what he's capable of. If you call Dane, then they'll
all
rush up here and go straight to their graves. But it won't end there. He'll go after Ramie, Ari
and
Gracie. And I'll die before I let that happen. Do
you
want Gracie to die because you're being an interfering asshole?”

Wade laughed. He couldn't help it. “Have you lost your mind? Do you honestly think this asshole, whoever he is, has a chance against
Ari
? She'd kick his candy ass to hell and back. That's provided he ever got past me and the rest of DSS.”

Why the fuck was Eliza so goddamn afraid of one man? She kept saying “he.” Over and over. Like he was God, an unstoppable force. Invincible. Untouchable. And why did Dane or any of the others not
know
anything about someone who was a threat to everyone Eliza cared about? He was seriously starting to consider that Eliza had been more emotionally traumatized by her ordeal than anyone—even Wade—realized, because this—she—the whole damn
story
just sounded . . .
crazy
. And Eliza was anything but crazy. She was smart, could take care of herself and her teammates and she had confidence in spades.

Or at least she did.

But now, the Eliza he thought he knew, was
nothing
like the woman staring at him with grief, sorrow and fucking
fear
in her eyes that gutted him every time he witnessed it. And he realized he didn't know her at all. It was also apparent that none of the people she worked with, trusted, risked her life to protect and had their back no matter the risk to herself, didn't know fuck all about her either. They only saw what she wanted them to see.

She had secrets, deep secrets she'd never shared with anyone, and worse she had demons she also had never shared with another living soul. And if it was the last thing he did, he was going to ferret out every single one of those secrets
and
demons and then he was going to do whatever it took to remove the fear and the shadows so evident in her eyes and he'd personally take care of the demons that haunted her and he didn't give a damn whether she liked it or not.

TEN

GRACIE
pulled into the parking garage of the downtown building that housed the offices of DSS and recklessly slammed on her brakes, opening her door before she'd even got her car into park. Clutching the envelope in clammy hands, she bolted out and headed for the stairwell at a dead run, leaving her keys, purse, everything behind in her car.

She knew everyone was in the office this afternoon to discuss a new case they were taking on, which was good since she wouldn't have to wait for everyone to filter in but bad for the new case because Eliza took priority. Nothing was more important than saving her.

Anxiety took firm hold on her as she entered the elevator, making her fingers fumble and hit the button for the wrong floor, which thankfully was above the DSS offices so she quickly hit the right one and sucked in a deep breath, battling the sting of tears as the elevator began its ascent.

When she burst into the reception area, Zack was waiting, a grim, intense expression on his face. Not surprising since he would have tagged her arrival on the security cams and seen she was in distress.

“What's wrong?” he demanded, pulling her into his arms, his entire body rigid, his hands and eyes roving over her body as if searching for a sign of injury.

“Where are the others?” she asked, ignoring his question.

His look became puzzled. “In the conference room.”

“Let's go,” she said firmly, pushing her way past him.

“Gracie.”

She ignored him, struggling to keep it together.

“In the conference room!” she shrieked, her entire body shaking uncontrollably.

His earlier look of worry and confusion turned to a look that would scare even the baddest-ass person alive. He gave her a clipped nod but tucked her hand gently into his and followed her toward the conference room.

When they entered, everyone was there and standing, alert, concerned and wary. Angry. Not at her but at whatever had caused her upset. Four of the men she didn't even recognize, though she vaguely recalled Zack mentioning new hires.

Her gaze found Dane's and his expression gentled though his eyes were full of worry.

“It's Eliza,” she blurted. Thrusting the letter in his direction, she said, “She's on a suicide mission!”

And then she burst into tears, no longer able to maintain any semblance of her composure.

Even so, she didn't miss the initial shock reflected on an entire room full of men's faces rapidly dissipate to cold fury nor the fact that a tangible sensation of a dozen pissed off, worried, ultimate alpha warriors sizzled and crackled as if an actual flame had been lit.

And oddly, Dane paled, guilt flickering in his eyes and he looked as though someone had just punched him in the stomach. He looked absolutely sick. As sick as Gracie was when she wondered if she was too late and Eliza had already been taken from the people who considered her family.

Dane took the wrinkled envelope from Gracie's shaking hand, dread filling his entire soul. Flashes of the way Eliza had been acting prior to her asking for downtime—a vacation he
knew
was bullshit—repeated over and over in his mind. Their last conversation echoing in his ears and him knowing—fucking
knowing
—that Eliza wasn't telling him everything and the helplessness that had gripped him, remembering the sensation of her slipping through his fingers, knowing she was pulling away—had been pulling away for days leading up to her official sit-down with him in his office.

His gut never steered him wrong and he'd known something was wrong but had also known his hands were tied because he couldn't overtly act on that knowledge or he'd lose her. They'd all lose her. Calling Wade Sterling so at least someone would be looking out for her. All of that subterfuge because he'd feared losing her and if Gracie's reaction, her bald statement, was true then he'd lost her anyway.

Goddamn it! He'd made an emotional decision and he never made emotional decisions. But with Lizzie, he had and he'd fucked up. He stared frozen at the envelope, terrified to open it but time was of the essence and he had to know what they were up against. Had to know if it was too late to rectify the biggest mistake of his life.

He fumbled with the paper, his hands shaking so badly it took several tries before he managed to get the letter out of the envelope and unfold it so he could read it. Everyone was tense, alert and expectant. Impatient. All staring at him and waiting, all fearing the worst.

He quickly scanned over Eliza's handwriting, usually neat, elegant and feminine. What he saw now was barely legible, hastily scrawled words that he had to read multiple times to make sense of and, worse, in several places, the ink was smeared and what looked to be a tiny stain to the paper indicating that she'd been crying when she wrote it.

But when he forced himself to look beyond the evidence of her upset and sorted through the first several rambling paragraphs,
what
she wrote set in and his blood fucking froze. And then it unfroze because he felt it leave his body, draining as if he'd suffered a massive injury that sucked away his life's blood.

His knees locked then unlocked and his legs shook. So badly that he sank into the chair he'd vacated when Gracie had burst into the conference room with a panicked, scared out of her mind expression that never looked good on any woman.

He vaguely noted his men's reactions, a mixture of shock because Dane never lost his cool and was always steady under pressure. A rock. Unbreakable. And the other part of that mixture on the others' faces was the gut-wrenching fear and worry that was rocking him to the very core, paralyzing all rational thought.

And then the room erupted into a chorus of what the fuck's and yells and demands to know what the hell was going on. Worse, the one question he couldn't answer.
Is Eliza okay?

“Jesus,” Dane whispered. The only word he could manage.

Then he held up his hand for quiet and the room went silent, all eyes to him, expectant, angry, worried and pissed. Eliza was his, yes. But she was also theirs. She was his partner. Closer to him than anyone else at DSS. The only person he'd allowed that close. He'd hired her. Trained her personally, though her skills were already impressive. He'd just honed them and made them better.

But she also belonged to every other man assembled. Even Dex, Zeke, Shadow and Knight, though they'd only had the opportunity to meet her once before she'd taken leave. Judging by their expressions, she'd made an impression and they weren't any happier about being in the dark than the rest.

Caleb and Beau bristled with fury, edging toward Dane, jaws clenched, eyes stormy.

“What the fuck is going on with Eliza?” Beau demanded, cutting off whatever his brother had been about to say because Caleb's mouth opened and then promptly shut when Beau made his outburst.

“Eliza's supposed to be on vacation,” Caleb said, opening his mouth again. “Or did you fill us in wrong?”

The insinuation that Dane had lied to them about Eliza's leave of absence pissed him off and any other time he'd be letting Caleb know exactly what he thought of that insinuation, but each second wasted on bullshit was a second they weren't getting to Eliza.

“I told you what she told me,” Dane said shortly, refusing to rehash the entire story. Especially now that it appeared none of it was true.

“It's a goodbye letter,” Gracie said tearfully from where she stood wrapped solidly in Zack's arms. “Oh God, Dane. She's not coming back is she?”

Her words were a knife to his heart. He couldn't imagine work—life—without Lizzie.

Gracie plunged forward, not waiting for the answer she already knew. Emotion thick in her voice, an obvious knot forming in her throat, she said to no one specifically, “She sent a check with the letter. Everything. Her savings. Told me to use it for my school, that she wouldn't need it where she was going.”

Though he'd read the words, multiple times, they still punched a hole in his soul and for a moment, he couldn't speak. Even if he wanted to. Had no idea what to say.

The others sucked in their breaths and unease lay heavy over the room at the ominous meaning of those words.

“And where is she going?” Zack asked gently, concern heavy in his features and in his tone. He too was maintaining a tenuous grasp on his composure but for his wife's sake, he was handling her with care.

“I don't
know
,” Gracie said desperately. “The postmark is Kansas. She talked of sins, and of blood. So much blood on her hands that they'd never be clean. That she had no hope of redemption but she vowed vengeance and she also swore that she'd never lead
him
to us, meaning she was leaving Houston and would never return. Said he could never know of us, that if he did, we'd all die and that
she
would die before ever allowing that to happen. She said she was as guilty as he was, had committed unpardonable sins and that the justice system had failed the victims, had failed her and she said she wouldn't—couldn't—allow him to go free. She . . .”

Gracie's voice wavered and a fresh torrent of tears streaked down her wan face. She closed her eyes, her next words uttered so painfully that they were felt by every single person in the room.

“She asked me to tell all of you that she loved you. That we were the only family she'd ever had. That we were the only people who'd ever loved
her
and that she was going to make sure he never hurt any of us or any other living soul.”

She briefly covered her face as a sob escaped and then she looked up at Dane, her eyes red and swollen and so filled with grief that it was as if Eliza was already dead. Like Gracie suspected she was—or soon would be.