With Every Breath (28 page)

“Damn it, Eliza! You could have been hurt,” he roared. “That entire crowd was in a feeding frenzy and just looking for someone to take out their anger on. They would have turned on you in a heartbeat and I could be visiting you in the hospital right now or identifying your body in the fucking morgue.”

Some of her annoyance faded and she relaxed her stance, recognizing he wasn't as angry with her as he'd been worried. Very worried. She softened her tone, losing the sarcasm.

“I had to find out what was going on, Wade. We have a big problem and we now have less than twenty-four hours to make adjustments to our plan of action because the arrogant son of a bitch called a goddamn
press
conference, and whatever he fed the news sources must have been of major interest because in addition to local coverage, there are stations from San Francisco and Seattle and there's a fucking CNN and a Fox News crew setting up to cover the event.”

Wade's lips tightened and his jaw bulged and then he swore viciously.

“He's up to something,” Eliza said quietly. “And whatever it is, it isn't good. He's setting up his play and God only knows what he has up his sleeve.”

“That much is obvious. You think he's made us or any of your people?”

Eliza shrugged. “I don't see how he could have. He's not free yet. He may have eyes and ears on the ground here, but my guys are good. You and your men are good. No way Thomas could know anything except that I'm here.”

Wade's expression grew savage. She knew he realized the implications of her last statement. That she was here meant whatever he had planned definitely involved her. Then in direct contrast to the anger vibrating his entire body, he gently cupped her cheek and caressed her chin and lips with the pad of his thumb.

“What did the old man say to you?”

There was concern and a distinct edge of protectiveness in his voice.

A knot formed in her throat and, against her will, tears burned the edges of her eyelids.

“What the fuck did he say to you?” Wade demanded fiercely.

She shook her head to let him know he had no reason to be angry with the man who'd spoken to her because he looked as though he was about to go hunt the guy down and mete out serious retribution for causing her upset.

“He was nice,” Eliza choked. “He's the only person in this entire town who not only was nice but expressed concern for me. He warned me and told me I needed to get out now and go as far away as possible, as quickly as possible.”

“Is that all?” Wade asked gently.

She shook her head again. “He told me that what I did took a lot of courage. That what I did was brave.” The last came out strangled, conveying that the idea of being called brave when she'd been anything but appalled her.

“He was absolutely right,” Wade said, giving her a look that dared her to argue.

“He said everyone thought I was here now because I'm still in love with Thomas and that I came so we could be together when Thomas was released but that he didn't believe that for a minute. Then he asked me
why
I was here.”

“And what did you say?”

“I told him that I couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe they would let him go free after what he did and that I had to see for myself.”

She finished in a whisper and then Wade wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as he soothingly ran his fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes and related everything the man had said to her and his warning that Thomas would seek revenge.

Wade's hold around her went still and his body coiled, his muscles going rigid. She could feel the fury simmering within him, emanating from him in waves. Eliza knew what she had to tell him, what she had to do could very well shatter the control he was barely clinging to.

But she'd save that for last. He needed to know the first before and then maybe he'd take what she said next a little better. Or so she hoped.

“He won't hurt me,” she whispered. “He's obsessed with me. Has always been obsessed with me. He's sick, twisted and a complete monster, but he treated me like a princess. Like I was the most precious thing in the world.”

When Wade grew even more rigid, she hurried to explain.

“I'm not defending him, Wade. I'm trying to explain him, how he was, how demented he was. How could he have treated me like a queen while torturing and raping and murdering other women? It sickened me to know that I was spared that treatment because he loved me, put me on a fucking pedestal convinced I was perfect and couldn't bring himself to ever hurt me and so he slaked his perversions on others.”

Wade pressed his lips to the top of her head and simply held her as she continued the painful recount.

“He will want me back, yes. But he won't use violence. He won't seek revenge or hurt me. He'll attempt to manipulate me like he used to. Nothing I felt for him then was real. My feelings for him weren't my own. They were his. He planted the thoughts, feelings, emotions he wanted me to have for him and he manipulated every aspect of my life. My actions. I thought it was all real, that what I felt for him was my choice, my decision. It wasn't until I walked out of that courtroom and his connection to me was finally severed that my real feelings emerged and, God, I was sick to my soul over what I allowed him to do. What I allowed myself to become. And how pathetically weak and needy I was that I was such an easy conquest for him. I have never hated like I hated him in that moment.
That
was real.
That
was me. Finally myself and capable of having feelings not orchestrated by Thomas. Hatred and revulsion were my true feelings. Because God help me, Wade, even when I discovered what he was, what he'd done, even when I went to the police and when I testified against him, I loved him. I was heartbroken and felt like I was betraying him for turning against him. I still loved him and I can never forget that. Can never forgive myself.”

“Oh baby,” Wade said, his voice aching with sorrow and regret.

“And that's what he'll try to do again,” she said, forging ahead, needing to get everything out. There was so much to do before tomorrow and it was going to take everything she had to convince Wade to go along with her plan.

“He'll be convinced that all he'll have to do is plant feelings for him, make me think I love him and then he'll sweep in and take me away so we can finally be together.”

“Can he?” Wade asked, worry giving his words an edge. “Can he still do that?”

“He'll think he can,” Eliza said grimly. “And that's all that matters. But no.
Never
again. I've spent years working to strengthen my mental barriers. I researched endlessly, reading every article, study, book I could get my hands on dealing with psychic powers and strengthening mental barriers that make people susceptible to psychic influence.”

She pulled slightly away from Wade, returning the gesture he'd made moments before. She cupped his face, staring earnestly into his eyes.

“I didn't know any better then. I didn't know what love or hate was. So it was easy for him to convince me that what I felt for him was love and that it was real. But then I felt hate when he was no longer manipulating my thoughts and feelings. And the hate was so much stronger, so much more powerful than the love I was made to feel for Thomas because that love wasn't real,” she said fiercely. “But my hate was. It was very real and it was mine. It belonged to me and wasn't controlled by anyone else. That was when I understood the difference between what was real and what was merely a manifestation of childish fantasies and hopeless wishes and that I was a naïve idiot for believing in dreams coming true.”

“Will he know he can no longer control you?” Wade asked, his brows drawn together in concern. “And how certain are you that you can block him now?”

There was a hint of fear in his tone, one that made Eliza realize that Wade feared losing her to the man who'd once controlled every aspect of her life. A man she had freely admitted she'd once loved and would have done anything for. A man she'd planned forever with.

“No one will
ever
control me again,” she said through clenched teeth. “I'll have to be careful to keep my emotions in control because he's as adept at reading emotion as he is thoughts. He will recognize that I am different. That he won't be able to have me under his thumb with minimal effort. But the advantage is mine. He won't hurt me, but I'll kill the son of a bitch without a second thought.”

“No the hell you will not,” Wade growled. “We've been over this, baby. You aren't even getting close to him.”

Eliza took a small step back, steeling herself for the explosion that was about to erupt.

“I have to be at that press conference tomorrow,” she said quietly.

Wade's eyes darkened, black like a midnight storm. It was obvious he was making a concerted effort not to completely lose it right then and there. He swallowed hard, his lips parting and then snapping shut as if thinking better of what he'd been about to say.

“Fuck no,” he finally said, his breaths coming in rapid spurts, his nostrils flaring with the force of each inhale as he fought for control. “Have you lost your goddamn mind? Forget for a moment the threat of Thomas and the fact that everyone in this goddamn town has it out for you and let's focus on the fact that the media will be crawling all over the place. They'll eat you alive. You'll be on every television in the fucking country and they'll crucify you. They'll vilify and condemn you with or without actual facts. The plan is for Thomas to come to you where I'll be waiting for him.”

“I don't plan to stay the entire time,” Eliza said calmly. “Just long enough for him to see me. I
want
him to see me. And I want him to think I'm there for him and waiting. As soon as I've made certain he's seen me, I'll leave and then we proceed as we planned. Dane and his team will monitor Thomas at all times and track his movements. Your men will maintain a tight perimeter around the safe house. He's not invincible, Wade. He won't be hard to take out.”

“It's never a good idea to underestimate one's opponent,” Wade warned. “Damn it, Eliza, you don't need to be there. I don't want you there. You've suffered enough. Why put yourself through hell all over again by showing up at a press conference everyone in town will be at where your presence will only confirm what they think they already know? I don't want that for you. Haven't you suffered enough?”

She closed the distance she'd put between them and wrapped her arms around Wade's waist and hugged him fiercely, laying her cheek against the solid reassurance of his heartbeat.

“This is something I have to do for me,” she said quietly, pleading with him to understand. To know that she had to do this and couldn't just stand idly by while someone else solved all her problems for her. “For so long I felt helpless and hopeless. Then I felt hatred and bitterness but also guilt, grief and overwhelming sorrow. The guilt was the worst. I saw those women every single night when I closed my eyes. They haunted me for years. Things got a little better when I met Dane and he recruited me for DSS. I grew up and learned to be more self-reliant. The nightmares became less frequent but they never went completely away. I thought that Thomas was completely behind me, at least in the sense that I'd never again have to see him and I drew comfort from the knowledge that I was finally free. I had a good life. Good friends. People I cared about and who cared about me. They taught me so much. And I drew comfort from knowing that Thomas would be spending the rest of his life in prison paying for his sins and that while I was finally living free and happy, he would never have those things.

“I won't lie. I used to lie awake at night and wish that I could face him one last time. So he would know that he didn't own me, that he never had
me
. So I could tell him that hell was too good for him. I dreamed of killing him. And not quickly or mercifully. In those moments I was no better than him,” she said painfully. “Because I imagined doing to him exactly what he'd done to the women he tortured and killed. I imagined him suffering until he begged for death. I wanted him to feel what those women felt. I wanted him to hurt. And I wanted to be the last face he saw before he took his final breath. I wanted him to see me smiling, victorious, and for him to know that I beat him and that I'm stronger than he is. Worse than the fact that it makes me no better than him, I feel no shame, no remorse and no regret for wishing with all my heart that somehow I could make that dream a reality.”

She lifted her head, dread heavy in her heart as she slowly lifted her gaze to Wade's.

“
That's
who I am, Wade. I'm not special. I don't stand for what's right. And I'm not rare or precious. The woman I just described? That's who and what I am. Can you honestly stand there and tell me that's the kind of woman you'd want any part of? The kind of woman you'd want in your life?”

“Eliza?”

She swallowed and glanced up again fearfully. In agony over what she'd see in his eyes. Bracing herself for the inevitable rejection and judgment she found in the eyes of so many others.

“Don't say another goddamn word,” Wade said in a clearly pissed off tone. “Jesus, woman. You still don't get it.”

Her gaze turned to bewilderment as she searched his face for some clue of what he was thinking. And what was it she still didn't get? She opened her mouth to ask but he growled low in his throat and framed her face between his hands. His gaze was piercing but no longer angry. There was frustration, worry and something else she was afraid to examine too closely because it did funny things to her heart and she had the sudden urge to run, to hide. To do what she was best at and avoid allowing people in. That something in his eyes that suddenly made her question her assessment of herself scared her and thrilled her all at the same time as she waited, not even breathing, for what he was going to say next.