Keep Me Safe Page 4

  . resignation. It should fill her with self-loathing that she’d accepted the inevitability of her death. It made her weak. Like she’d given up. But if she’d truly given up all hope, she wouldn’t have called Caleb in her desperation. She wouldn’t have reached out for help and protection.

  What if . . . What if he truly could keep her safe? What if he could prevent her agonizing death at the hands of a madman? She was afraid to hope, to let herself be lulled into a false sense of security. And yet she couldn’t quite prevent the fledgling glimmer of hope from unfurling in the deepest part of her soul.

  “Look at me. Watch me. Breathe deep. In through your nose and out your mouth. You can do this.”

  Her pulse was a rapid staccato against her skin. She stared helplessly back at him, a single tear trailing warmly down her cheek, a contradiction to the icy chill that held her in its grip.

  “Don’t cry, Ramie,” he said in a gentle voice. “You’re safe now, I swear it. But you have to breathe for me. Like this.”

  She watched as he demonstrated sucking in deep breaths, his nostrils flaring, and then expelling the air, the warmth of his breath on her chin. Some of the terrible panic began to ease. Slowly, her lungs opened up and allowed a shaky intake. She shuddered violently, shaking off the chokehold anxiety had on her.

  “Nice and easy,” he soothed. “You need to slow it down.” He glanced down at one of the hands he still held, his fingers circled gently around her wrist. “Your pulse is way too fast.”

  She had yet to say a word to him. He’d done all the talking. And now that her panic attack was abating, she had no idea what to say at all. He was here. He’d come. He’d responded to her plea for help. What could she tell him? Would he even believe her?

  His expression grew dark, his eyes flaring with anger. It was instinctive for her to recoil when he lifted a hand toward her face. He frowned even harder at her reaction.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Ramie,” he murmured.

  He touched the corner of her mouth where the bruise and dried blood she still hadn’t washed away were on her skin. His touch was infinitely gentle and once more she marveled at the fact that her mind wasn’t thrown into the instant turmoil that was usually the result when people touched her.

  Oh, she sensed anger. Deep, seething rage. But she knew it was directed at the man who’d struck her. The man who wanted to kill her. She could sense nothing from him, which meant he had no dark secrets. No violent tendencies. All she could feel was hatred toward the man who’d struck her.

  “Now, tell me what you can,” Caleb said, no hint of impatience in his voice. “You said someone was trying to kill you. I need to know every single detail if I’m going to be able to protect you.”

  It was the way in which he said protect you that struck a chord inside her. He hadn’t said help her. He’d said protect in a possessive tone, one she found comforting. The first time in over a year she’d enjoyed one brief moment of comfort and . . . peace. The peace she was so desperate to achieve.

  They sat there in silence, Caleb’s fingers still a gentle caress on her face, when she realized he was waiting for her response. For her to say something instead of numbly staring at him like a brainless idiot.

  God, where to start?

  Weariness assailed her. Fatigue crashed into her like the surf against a rocky coast. She felt more battered and bruised in her heart and soul than she did from her stalker’s physical attack hours before.

  “I don’t know where to start,” she whispered. “It all sounds so . . . crazy. I wouldn’t even believe my story coming from someone else.”

  His fingers fell from her face and back to her hand, rubbing over the top in a circular pattern meant to soothe and calm. Then he simply laced his fingers with hers and gave them a gentle squeeze.

  “Start wherever you like. I’ll listen. And I’ll damn sure believe you.”

  She sucked in a steadying breath and then let it out, her shoulders sagging with the effort.

  “A year and a half ago I helped locate a kidnapping victim. What that poor girl went through was horrifying.”

  She shivered just saying the words. No matter how hard she tried to block it from her mind it was there, image after image of blood, pain and impending death thick in her memory. It was as fresh as if it had happened yesterday and not eighteen months ago.

  “And what you went through as well,” he murmured.

  Regret was stark in his eyes. Sincere remorse was etched into his features.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “What I endured as well.”

  “Go on,” Caleb encouraged.

  “The killer was never apprehended. And I say killer because though he didn’t kill the victim I located, there were others. So many others. I was only able to save the one.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut as grief welled to the surface, threatening to completely consume her. Then she reopened her eyes and focused her gaze on Caleb.

  “He’s the one trying to kill me. He’s been hunting me for months. He’s why I tried to hide where no one could find me. And yet he somehow manages to find me no matter where I go. He’s always there. I think . . .”

  She broke off and lowered her gaze because this is where it got crazy. Caleb may well think she’d lost what remaining sanity she possessed.

  “You think what?” he asked softly.

  “I think he has psychic abilities himself. I think it’s why he’s obsessed with me. It has to be why he keeps finding me. Why I’m constantly having to look over my shoulder. I swear at times I can feel his breath on my neck. He was waiting inside my hotel room today. I knew when I touched the knob that he’d been there but before I could run, he yanked the door open and grabbed me.”

  Caleb’s eyes grew murderous, murky like a thundercloud.

  “So, you’ve been running for a year and a half?” he demanded.

  She shook her head slowly. “No. He waited. Just when I thought I had moved on and somewhat made peace with the ordeal of locating his victim he contacted me. He called me. And I don’t know how he got my number. At the time I had a stable residence but no landline. Just a cell phone. And he began taunting me. Telling me what he would do to me and how my death wouldn’t be fast and that in the end I’d beg him to kill me and end my pain and misery.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Caleb swore.

  He pushed to his feet and began pacing back and forth at the foot of her bed. He paused briefly and turned, facing her again. He ran a hand raggedly through his hair and then gripped his nape in a gesture of frustration.

  “I forced you out of hiding,” he said in a grim voice. “You left because of me. Because you were afraid if I found you then others could too.”

  Ramie wouldn’t lie, even to make him feel better. Her tone had no anger or resentment. Just matter-of-factness. “It was the longest I’d ever remained in one place. I think it was the only time he didn’t find me or at least he didn’t make his presence known. But if I’m right and he’s psychic then he would have known. He enjoys the thrill of the hunt. It’s a high for him. He’s a trophy hunter. You know, like hunters or fishermen have their own record books and when someone breaks the old record, there’s this sense of glory, an adrenaline rush that is nothing compared to before then. He lives to taunt me. He’d like to lull me into believing I’ve escaped him and when I don’t expect him there he is. He wants me to suffer. I’m his trophy kill,” she whispered. “The kind hunters have preserved and mounted on their walls, the one that gets the special place above the fireplace mantel.”

  He knelt back in front of her. He took both of her hands, drawing them together in his clasp. Then he stared her directly in the eyes, remorse brimming in his gaze.

  “I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. “God, I’m sorry, Ramie. I didn’t know. I couldn’t have known what it does to you. Or that I’d lead you back into the hands of a killer.”

  “Can you honestly say you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing even if you
had known?”

  Her voice reminded him of cracking ice after a winter storm, though rare this far south, and the sound of the tree branches splintering away, their burden too great to bear any longer. He refused to allow her to slide away from him, like water through his fingers. He curled those fingers into tight fists as if to prevent that very thing from happening.

  He closed his eyes and lowered his head. “No. God forgive me, but no, I would have done anything to save my sister. I know you hate me. You have every right to. But as you said, I owe you, and I fully intend to repay my debt to you.”

  “I don’t hate you,” she said in a low voice. “I don’t even blame you. In your shoes I would have done the same for a loved one.”

  “How can you not hate me when I damn near caused your death? When I forced you to endure being brutalized by a psychopath? You may not hate me, Ramie, but I damn sure hate myself for what I did.”

  She reached out her hand and slid it gently down his cheekbone before cupping his jaw. He visibly flinched and his breath caught. He went so still that she couldn’t even detect his breaths.

  Warmth spread through her hand and up her arm before spreading through her chest like a wildfire. She yanked her hand away, appalled by the familiar way she’d touched him. But he caught her hand and carefully put it back to his cheek, keeping his hand over hers so it was trapped.

  “Desperation makes us do the unthinkable. How can you hate yourself for being able to save your sister? How does it help your sister that you hate yourself? Never let her sense you regret your actions because those actions saved her from certain death. I’m sure she’s very grateful to you for her life.”

  “She’s grateful to you,” Caleb said gruffly. “You are the one she owes her life to.”

  “You providing me sanctuary is payment enough if you feel you’re in my debt.”

  “Count on it,” he vowed. “You’re coming home with me, Ramie. I formed a security firm with my brothers after Tori’s abduction. I swore never to be without the right tools to ensure the safety of my family. We hire only the best.”

  “I need the best,” she said in a low voice filled with conviction. “Because he’s always only a footstep behind me. No matter where I go. No matter what I do. And until he’s taken down, all the women he kills will be my fault. I can’t live with that guilt any longer.”

  Caleb emitted a soft curse as he slid his hand underneath her chin, framing it between his thumb and the rest of his fingers. His gaze bored into her unwaveringly.

  “I will protect you, Ramie. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

  EIGHT

  CALEB watched a myriad of emotions flicker and swirl in Ramie’s smoky gray eyes. The pupils were slightly dilated, making her eyes appear enormous in the delicate bone structure of her face. She was thin. Perhaps too thin because there was no spare flesh at her cheeks or eyes and her shoulders were narrow, her collarbone pronounced, making hollows between it and her neck.

  He could circle her wrists with a thumb and one finger and she felt delicate. As though she would simply break if someone handled her with anything but the utmost care. And yet she was hauntingly beautiful. Not the sort of woman he was normally attracted to but he realized he was indeed attracted to her. The idea of another man causing her harm infuriated him beyond the fact that no woman should ever be brutalized by a man. It felt personal to him. As though she were his woman and another man had put his hands on her.

  The idea that she would somehow blame herself for him still being at large, out there hunting new victims—God only knew how many there were that no one ever knew about or discovered. If he had anything to do with it, he was going to make sure she absolved herself of any ridiculous blame over the fact that one out of dozens had escaped the grasp of the authorities.

  He paused a moment, his brows furrowing as he considered his sudden vow. Yes, he owed her a great deal, and yes, he would ensure she was safe, that nothing would ever touch her again. But to take on the monumental task of absolving her guilt?

  It was an arrogant assumption on his part to think he would bring her anything but more pain, more regret. But if he could even bring her a small measure of peace, anything but the hell she must endure on a daily basis, then he would move damn mountains to make it so.

  He frowned again when he took in the dried blood and the bruise that had already formed on her chin and mouth area. He released her hands, carefully placing them back in her lap before he pushed upward to his feet. He held up one finger to her.

  “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  The instant fear that sparked in her eyes made him angry all over again at the bastard who’d made her life a living hell for the last year and a half.

  “I’m not leaving the room,” he said gently. “I’m just going to the bathroom to get a warm washcloth so I can wipe the blood and see how badly you’re bruised.”

  Her hand shot upward, a faintly puzzled look in her eyes as though she’d forgotten all about her injury. She winced when she pressed too hard on the bruise and he reached out to tug her hand back downward in a silent command for her not to touch it and cause herself more pain.

  He strode into the bathroom and turned the faucet on, letting the water grow hot before dampening and then wringing out a washcloth. Ramie looked relieved when he reappeared from the bathroom as if she truly had believed he’d somehow disappear. He hated the fear in her eyes. Wished he could wipe it away like the blood he planned to wipe from her face. But he knew no matter how much reassurance he gave her that it would take time for her to trust him. And it had suddenly become all-important that she did trust him. Why? He wasn’t sure exactly.

  It could be that he absolutely believed that all debts should be repaid, no matter the price. And Ramie had certainly suffered enormously because of his actions a year ago. There was no way to ever fully repay her, but he’d do anything he could to at least partially remove the burden of his and his family’s debt to her.

  But that wasn’t his sole reason for being here, hundreds of miles from his family. Away from his sister who still so desperately needed his emotional support. Tori was still infinitely fragile, a shadow of her former self. Vibrant. Confident. Full of zest for life. That bastard had taken those qualities away from her and Caleb feared she’d never get them back. Caleb could kill him for that alone, never mind that two women had suffered at his hands.

  As was the case in his search for Ramie, he wouldn’t give up until his sister’s kidnapper was found and brought to justice. Caleb would prefer to kill the bastard with his own hands. He’d feel no remorse whatsoever for doing so. But death was far too easy for him. Caleb wanted him to live in hell every day and for him to live a long life. Behind bars.

  Caleb knelt once more in front of Ramie, who hadn’t moved so much as an inch during the time he was in the bathroom. Gently, he began to wipe away the crusted, dried blood, and he cursed softly when she visibly winced.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  She shook her head in refusal. “It’s okay. You didn’t hurt me.”

  He didn’t argue over the lie. He’d seen pain flicker in her eyes a brief moment. He just made sure he was gentler with her when he removed the last of the blood.

  When he was finished, he leaned back and cupped her chin, tilting her bruised chin to the light so he could further inspect the damage.

  “It’s not too bad,” he said. “If your jaw was broken there would be a lot more swelling. Still, you need to be careful and let me know if you continue to have pain so we can take you in for X-rays.”

  Her cheeks flushed with color and she glanced away, embarrassment crowding her eyes.

  “I can’t afford to have X-rays,” she said in a low voice. “I have no medical insurance and I haven’t worked since . . . since him. He took everything from me. My home, my job. Peace. I’ve not experienced a single day of well-being since I established an irrevocable link to him. He took . . . everything,”
she whispered. “I was down to my last few dollars but I don’t even have that now. I had to leave my purse, my identification, everything when I ran from the hotel. And now I have nothing. Without ID I don’t exist. It’s as though he’s already gotten what he wants most. My death.”

  Caleb’s mood blackened. He was seized with murderous rage. Not only for what was being done to her now—stalked, hunted like an animal and taunted with her own death—but also for what had been done to her before.

  “You will not ever have to worry about money—or health insurance—again.”

  He was surprised he could even get the words out through his tightly clenched teeth or that his rage wasn’t reflected in his statement.

  She lifted startled eyes and then her cheeks turned a dull red. “I don’t need your charity, Caleb. You don’t owe me anything. I’ll make it. I always have.”

  His temper spiked before he could control it. “You are not some kind of goddamn charity case. Do you even realize the prices you could command for what you do? That victims’ families would pay any amount to get back a lost loved one?”

  Her eyes widened in horror. “I could never do that! What it would boil down to is blackmail. Hey, I’ll find your kid, wife, mother, loved one but, oh, by the way, my abilities don’t come cheap. Do you realize how . . . mercenary . . . that would make me? I couldn’t live with myself having money stained with violence and death. The mere idea is repulsive!”

  “And so you suffer in silence. Alone. No one to comfort you while the victims are surrounded by family and loved ones. But who do you have, Ramie? Who picks up the pieces for you when you shatter and fall apart? I realize money isn’t a cure-all but it can damn well make living a little easier, and anything is better than you having to scrape by, going without, and being constantly on the run from some deranged lunatic who wants to break you down, piece by piece until there’s nothing left. No escape.”

  She stared bleakly at him, telling him without words that he’d struck a chord within her, and he was kicking himself for being so blunt. His words had to hurt her. It brought back with startling clarity just how dire her situation was. And he saw something in her eyes that made him want to put his fist through the wall.

  Defeat.

  Her giving up and accepting the hopelessness of her situation. Damn it, but that had not been his intention. He simply wanted to let her know that she was no longer alone. No longer without someone to turn to. Defeat was simply the absence of hope and she needed that more now than ever before. He wanted to provide her a safe harbor.

  What was it she had said? She needed sanctuary. He’d make damn sure he provided her with anything she needed. And as far as her not accepting “charity”? She was just going to have to deal with it, because there was no way in hell he was leaving to chance any aspect of her protection, well-being and the financial support she needed so badly. Whether she liked it or not she was now fully under his care and protection and that meant in all areas. Not just her physical well-being.

  And he wanted her to trust him. To believe that he would follow through with his promise, because once he made a commitment he always followed through. It would take her time to fully trust in his motives, to believe that he wouldn’t betray her. He knew it wouldn’t happen today. Or even the next day. But he was determined to slowly but surely win something so precious as her faith and trust in him.

  He wanted to be someone she could depend on, perhaps the one person who hadn’t failed her in her young life. He’d be damned if he became just another statistic in the list of people who’d let her down, draining her capability to put her faith in another living soul.

  That was all going to change. Starting now.

  He had his pilot on standby because he had no intention of keeping Ramie here and vulnerable to attack even a second after they decided on a course of action. But just because he was determined to take over didn’t mean that he wouldn’t keep her fully apprised of his plans. True, he had no intention of taking no for an answer, but he’d at least offer her the respect he owed her and not keep her in the dark.

  Because she feared the unknown, and he knew she was still grappling with whether or not she could believe in his ability to protect her. She had no way of knowing that he intended to utilize every resource at his disposal—no matter the cost—in his effort to ensure her absolute safety.

  “Do you have anything at all?” he asked carefully, mindful of her pride and her potential embarrassment over her circumstances.

  And yet color still stained her cheeks and once more shame darkened her gray eyes to the color of a storm.

  “No,” she whispered. “Everything I own was in that hotel room and I dropped my purse when I fled because I didn’t want anything to interfere in my getting away.”

  “Smart,” he said sincerely. “You did the right thing absolutely. Nothing is more important than your life.”

  She blinked with obvious surprise over his statement and a string of obscenities burned his lips but he held them in check. She acted as though someone placing such importance on her life was an original concept.

  Had the people she’d helped before expressed any gratitude? Did they, like him, have no idea what it cost her each time she delved into the twisted mind of a killer? How could the idea have been planted in her mind that her life wasn’t worth anything?

  “Since you have nothing to pack, it will make our departure much faster,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Again she looked confused. “Where are we going?”

  “Home, Ramie. I’m taking you home.”

  Sadness and resignation pooled in her eyes. “I don’t have a home.”

  “You do now. I’m taking you to my home—your home now. I maintain very tight security since Tori was abducted. I thought I maintained high security measures before her kidnapping but it’s obvious I utterly failed in that area. My firm employs the very best money can buy. They don’t come cheap but they’re worth every penny if they keep my family—and you—safe.”

  She stared at him, a stunned look on her face. “When I called you to ask for help I didn’t expect this, Caleb. I certainly don’t expect you to move me into your home. I just thought you could offer some kind of peripheral protection.”

  “And that’s precisely what I intend to do,” he said calmly. “You staying in my home ensures your safety. It’s the safest place for you to be. My house likely has more security than Fort Knox.”