at her. It was akin to an out of body experience. She stepped outside of herself, a passive observer to the goings on. Where before there had been a multitude of emotions reflected in Thomas’s eyes, now only one stared malevolently back at her. Hatred. His features were twisted in a sinister expression. His aim was steady. He appeared completely calm as if killing her was just an item to check off on his to-do list. But then she supposed it was.
“You won’t get away with this,” Eliza said softly.
“People are easily manipulated and controlled. You should know,” he said mockingly. “I can command people’s will. No one can stop me.”
“Is that why you went to prison?” she mocked back.
His hand dipped the slightest of inches before steadying, the pistol leveling at her head once more. He opened his mouth to speak but a crash sounded and Wade barged into the room, gun in hand, pointing it straight at Thomas.
Oh God. No. This wasn’t happening. She’d prayed for Wade to find her, but not now, not when Thomas was armed. She couldn’t lose him—wouldn’t lose him. She’d never survive knowing he died for her. It had to be her that Thomas chose to kill. Choking fear paralyzed her, freezing her blood in her veins as her heart plummeted, her stomach bottoming out. Her mouth went dry and tears burned the edges of her eyelids.
“Drop it now,” Wade said in a savage tone.
Oddly, Thomas showed no fear at all. There was a sense of triumph in his eyes as he stared thoughtfully at Eliza. Then he smiled, and that frightened her more than the fact he had a gun pointed at her head. Wade moved closer to her, moving to shield her, to form a barrier between her and Thomas.
Thomas’s smile became sinister. “You’re much stronger now. I hadn’t been able to read you at all, couldn’t forge a pathway into your mind. Until now. But love is stronger than you are and now I know. I would have never hurt you back then. Never killed you. But you betrayed me and so you became my target, not the people you care about as you assumed. Now I know how to hurt you the most, how to make you suffer far more than ending your miserable existence. Yes, my darling Melissa. You’re much stronger now, but not as strong as love, and now you will suffer for an eternity for betraying me.”
In a swift move, he moved his hand so the gun was now pointed at Wade and not her. And she knew exactly what he was going to do. Her love for Wade and her overwhelming fear for his life had weakened the barriers she’d spent so long strengthening and now she was an open book. He was going to kill Wade because he knew it would utterly destroy her. Far more than killing her.
“No!” she screamed, and she flung her body in front of Wade’s just as Thomas shot. Fire exploded through her chest and her mouth opened in a soundless cry just as another shot sounded.
As she slid to the floor, she saw the neat hole form right between Thomas’s eyes and then he was flung back, falling lifelessly onto his back.
Thank God.
She closed her eyes, her relief so profound that for a moment she didn’t feel the horrific pain tearing through her chest. Wade was safe. That was all that mattered. Then another sound, a terrible, guttural cry of heart-wrenching pain registered close to her ears. Oh God, had Wade been hurt after all?
She felt hands on her face and strangely, wetness as well. She struggled to open her eyes and saw Wade’s head hovering over hers, his eyes awash with tears.
“Stay with me, Eliza,” he said hoarsely. “Oh God, baby, why? Why did you do it? You have to stay with me. Don’t you dare close your fucking eyes.”
She watched hazily as he yanked his phone to his ear and began yelling that he needed an ambulance and the situation was critical. For some reason the room was growing darker, but she knew the lights were on. Why was it getting so dark?
Then Wade’s face loomed over hers again but she could barely make out his features. His hand feathered over her cheek and he looked . . . terrified. That was odd. Wade didn’t get scared. Her eyelids grew heavier and then the room went completely black.
“Don’t you give up!” Wade yelled hoarsely. “Don’t let go. You’re free now, baby. He can’t hurt you anymore. Please don’t give up. I love you so much. I’ve been in love with you ever since you got into my face the first time we met in my art gallery. Why the hell do you think I spent so much time pissed off at you? You always seemed so determined to get yourself killed. Why would I have taken a bullet for you?”
He went quiet, making a choking sound and she struggled against the darkness to pry her eyelids halfway open, trying to focus on him, to do as he demanded. More noise erupted as people poured into the kitchen. She heard her name from seemingly a dozen directions, but she was only focused on Wade. She was afraid if she lost sight of him, he would be gone forever.
His eyes had gone all watery again and he continued stroking her cheek. Sirens echoed in the distance, becoming louder by the second.
“Lizzie, my God, Lizzie, are you okay?”
Dane was here? Her muddled mind struggled to make sense of the chaos around her. She attempted to look in the direction of his voice, wanting to tell him she was sorry, but when she tried to move, a spasm of pain overtook her and warm, metallic liquid coated her tongue and then slid from the corner of her mouth.
A weird sound that mimicked stabs of pain confused her and then Wade’s lips were on her forehead, pressing tenderly against her skin.
“Be still, baby. Try to stay still for me. I need you to hang on.” He was stroking upward over her forehead, smoothing her hair in a repetitive motion. “In here!” he yelled to some distant person.
She blinked but her eyelids felt so heavy. Wade grew fuzzier and she felt cold. He looked at her with such torture in his eyes.
“Why did you take a bullet meant for me?” he asked brokenly.
She smiled faintly and struggled to respond, battling against the lure of unconsciousness. She licked her lips, trying to rid herself of the odd slickness slithering over her tongue. She couldn’t breathe right, and she wasn’t sure she could respond to his question, but it was too important. He had to know.
“Because I love you and if you died, it would destroy me, kill me anyway. You’re a good man, Wade. The very best. I thought I’d learned what love was. I saw it. It was beautiful. Worth dying for. But you taught me how to love and be loved. It’s all I’ve ever wanted and you gave that to me.”
Her voice became fainter, more somber as she drifted further and further away. A sense of peace settled over her, the most wonderful feeling she’d ever experienced. She smiled, tears sliding hotly down her temples.
“I’m free,” she whispered. “I’m finally free.”
“Eliza!”
The world faded rapidly as more faces pushed in, one barking orders while another pressed on her chest. The last image that registered was of Wade roaring at her not to leave him and of Dane and Zack physically restraining Wade as he tried to lunge for her.
TWENTY-SEVEN
WADE stood in the surgical waiting room, staring broodingly out the window, Eliza’s blood still bright on his clothing, his hands. His team and hers were assembled, all tensely waiting for word. He could feel the weight of Dane’s stare, but there was no judgment, only worry and grief.
He glanced at the rest of her team from his periphery, and they were little better. Their expressions were drawn tight, hopelessness evident in their posture and stance.
Eliza had been in surgery for hours. She’d coded as the EMS personnel had arrived and were attempting to stabilize her. They’d left performing CPR in a load-and-go situation. That had been the last time Wade had seen her.
Eyes closed, lifeless, after saying she was finally free.
Grief welled within him once more and he curled his fingers into tight fists. If only he’d gotten there a few minutes earlier. If only Eliza hadn’t thrown herself in front of him to take the bullet meant for him.
Never had anyone cared enough about him to put themselves between him and death. No one had ever loved him until Eliza, and
God, he couldn’t lose her now. He cursed the time wasted, the time he had spent fighting the inevitable. She’d barreled into his life, upending his carefully ordered existence, and for the first time in a lifetime he’d felt alive. And now she lay on an operating table fighting for her life. Because she’d saved his.
Don’t leave me, Eliza. Fight, baby. Please fight. I can’t live without you. Please don’t leave me alone.
He bowed his head, emotion knotting his chest and throat until he couldn’t breathe. All he could see and hear was Eliza screaming no and then launching herself in front of him just as Thomas had fired. Her body jerking, then him shooting Thomas and Eliza sagging to the floor in a pool of blood. He’d never forget that sight. Never get it out of his mind. For the rest of his life, that image would haunt his dreams. He only prayed that she would be lying in bed next to him so when he woke she was there, alive, whole, loving him.
The phones of Beau and Zack went off every half hour. Their wives, demanding updates, sick with worry for Eliza. Caleb, the only DSS member to remain behind, had also been a constant caller, his furious voice audible in the quiet waiting room.
He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t stand here while a surgeon came out and told them that Eliza hadn’t made it. That they’d been unable to save her. He wouldn’t survive it. He wouldn’t want to survive it.
She was his. Had been his since that very first day. He should have staked his claim earlier, made it evident to her that she belonged to him. It had been obvious to everyone else, but Eliza had closed herself off to the possibility of any sort of relationship and had been oblivious. Well maybe not oblivious, but he’d frightened her, had shaken her routine every bit as much as she’d shaken his, and he should have pressed his advantage instead of backing off the way he’d done and waiting. Watching, protecting from a distance.
After her abduction and torture, he should have moved in and taken over. He hadn’t. He’d been furious when she had declared she was in on the mission to take down the sick bastards who’d caused so much damage to the DSS wives—and to Eliza. But he hadn’t shut her down as he should have. And then, when she’d damn near been killed in that op and he’d taken the bullet meant for her, the one that would have killed her, he sure as hell should have made certain that she was in his bed every single night.
None of this would have happened if he hadn’t been so . . . afraid. He closed his eyes as the painful admission settled over him. She scared him to death. She made him vulnerable. Because for the first time, there was someone who meant everything to him, and the risks she took terrified him. More than that, however, she scared him merely for the depth of what she made him feel, and he’d been determined to maintain careful distance so that when he did make his move, it would be on his terms. So he wouldn’t have been so vulnerable or need her as much as he did.
What a fool he’d been. Stupid, stupid, stupid. By denying the depth of his caring, his love for her, he’d denied her the protection she’d so desperately needed. The support, both physical and emotional. She wouldn’t have ever left to face Thomas alone. That wouldn’t have even been an option because Wade would have been there. Every goddamn day. He would have known something was wrong, unlike her team who thought she was still recovering from the trauma she’d experienced.
If Dane hadn’t called him, would Wade have even known what Eliza was up to until it was too late? Would he have received the news after the fact like her team would have? That she died alone, no backup, no protection, no one to stand for her and all because she was desperately trying to protect the people she loved—including him?
He hadn’t seen it then, but God, he saw it now. He’d been so blind, so determined that he’d have Eliza on his terms and his terms only. He had seen the same things he felt reflected in her eyes, the same fears he felt, the same vulnerability. He’d scared her every bit as much as she’d scared him, but she’d cared enough to distance—or try to distance—herself from Wade so Thomas would never know of his existence.
“Sterling,” Dane’s quiet voice sounded next to him.
Wade jerked, thinking that perhaps the doctor had come in while he’d been lost in thought and self-recrimination. But the waiting room was as it had been for the last hours, only now Dane stood at his side, the first time anyone had approached him.
“You can’t do this to yourself, man,” Dane said in a low tone, meant only to be heard by Wade. “You can’t tear yourself apart and blame yourself or grieve prematurely. Eliza is a fighter. She won’t go down easy. She knows Thomas is dead now. She will never worry about him coming after her or the people she cares about.”
“She took. A bullet. For me,” Wade hissed, his fists clenching tighter.
He wanted to tear the waiting room apart. Wanted to punch the walls until his hands bled. Anything to release the overwhelming pain and despair. Never had he felt this kind of agony. Such a sense of loss. Like half of him had been cut away, like he’d lost the other half of his soul.
“I know she did,” Dane said somberly. “She would have done it for anyone she cared about. Hell, she would have taken it for a stranger. That’s just who she is. She’d likely deny that Thomas in fact made her a better person, made her into the selfless, beautiful person she is today, one who fights for justice no matter the cost. But the truth is, what happened to her when she was sixteen shaped her. She walked away from that life, became someone else because she refused to allow him to continue controlling her. She wrongly took the blame for the deaths of every single one of his victims and that fucks with you.”
“She had nothing to do with their deaths,” Wade exploded. “She had no right to carry that burden for ten goddamn years. She was only sixteen. Sixteen. And she insists on looking at the choices and emotions of a young girl who had nothing, no one to love her, no one who cared, through the eyes of an adult, with an adult’s knowledge.”
Dane nodded. “You and I know that, but she doesn’t. Maybe she never will. Or maybe she’ll finally be at peace now that justice has been rightfully served.”
“Not at the expense of her life,” Wade said fiercely. “I’ll never accept that she has to die in order to find peace. I sure as hell won’t. I’ll never know another goddamn day’s peace knowing she sacrificed her life for mine.”
“She’ll pull through,” Dane said simply. “Eliza simply doesn’t know how to quit.”
But Wade could see the worry and despair, reflections of his own, in Dane’s eyes. Could see it in every single one of her teammates’ expressions. None of them would ever know peace again if Eliza died.
Wade turned back to the window, staring blindly at the sky as the first soft light of dawn appeared on the horizon. He didn’t want to face another sunrise without her. He wanted her to be the last thing he saw when he went to sleep at night and the first thing he saw when he woke the next morning.
She held his heart in the palm of her hands, held his future, his destiny. It all belonged to her, was wrapped up solidly in her and he waited with growing resignation to know her—and his—fate.
The sun rose steadily, dousing the waiting room with bright sunshine, a direct contrast to the black storm of emotions held within. The quiet was driving Wade out of his mind. He was going to go insane if someone didn’t tell him something soon.
But he feared the appearance of hospital personnel even as he waited, on edge, for someone to come. Because if they told him the worst, his heart and soul would die in that moment.
Exhaustion and worry had taken its toll on him, and he finally sank into a chair, leaning forward to bury his face in his hands. He had to hold it together. If he broke, if he let even the first wave of emotion get the better of him, he’d never stop. And so he held rigid in his vigil, mind numb, sorrow wrapped solidly around his battered heart and soul.
Still more hours passed and with it the threads holding Wade’s sanity together grew thinner. No one had moved. No one had eaten or even gotten up to go to the bathroom. No one stood down for a single
moment.
Close to noon, a haggard looking man in scrubs appeared in the doorway, exhaustion pronounced in his eyes. When he called for those here for Eliza Cummings, Wade surged to his feet, as did every single other occupant of the room.
Wade was there first, pushing by the others so he stood squarely in front of the surgeon.
“Tell me,” Wade muttered fiercely.
“She made it through surgery,” the doctor said, though there was no real joy or relief in his statement. “I have no idea how the hell she made it. When they brought her in, I gave her less than a five percent chance of surviving the first hour. But she hung on, refusing to give up.”
“Can I see her?” Wade asked hoarsely, afraid to feel hope.
“She isn’t out of the woods yet,” the doctor said grimly. “I don’t want to give you false hope. She could still die. Her condition is critical and she’s on life support. As soon as she’s out of recovery, she’ll be moved to ICU. You can see her then. We’ll just have to take it day by day, but for now, she’s alive.”
No. Surely he wouldn’t be given such hope only to have it snatched from him in the cruelest way possible. His heart pounded and he felt light-headed as relief poured over him. He hadn’t lost her yet. She’d made it through surgery. No way she’d go down after surviving the worst. All she had to do now was recover. Get better. And he’d ensure she did exactly that. He wouldn’t leave her side.
“I’ll have someone come get you when she’s been moved to ICU,” the doctor said before taking his leave.
Wade took several steps back and then numbly sank into one of the chairs, his hands shaking. He closed his eyes and swallowed visibly, knowing that when he did see Eliza, it wouldn’t be good. But he had to be as strong for her as she’d been for him.
TWENTY-EIGHT
FOR four of the longest days of Wade’s life, he kept vigil in the ICU, never leaving Eliza’s bedside. The nurses had tried to make him leave, citing strict visitor hours. Wade had dug in and told them over his fucking dead body would he leave her. There had been a tense standoff until the charge nurse had intervened, taken one long, hard look at Wade and then had told the other nurses to let him stay.
Maybe she’d seen just how close he was to losing it. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was with her, holding her hand, talking to her. He slept for short intervals, awakening to once more encourage her, bully her, demand that she wake up.
Her team came in, one at a time, at regular intervals. The nurses had already allowed one breach of the rules. Allowing more than two people in Eliza’s room at the same time was where they put their foot down solidly. Wade hadn’t cared about that either. As long as he was with her, he didn’t care who else got to see her.
On the fifth day, Wade had dozed off, leaned over the rail of her bed, his fingers wrapped around hers when he was awakened by a small movement. His eyes snapped open and he glanced down, unable to determine whether he’d dreamed it or if she had really moved her hand.
And then she moved again. Just one tiny clench of her fingers around his. Almost as if to let him know she was there, with him, that she wasn’t going anywhere.
Excitedly he leaned forward, talking urgently to her, telling her he was here, that she was okay and he begged her to open her eyes. He begged for half an hour when, finally, he saw it. The slightest movement of her eyelids as if she were straining to open her eyes.
Suddenly remembering the tube down her throat and the fact that if she came around, she’d likely panic, he quickly pushed the button for the nurse with his free hand, all the while continuing his steady encouragement for Eliza to open her eyes.
The nurse came in, looking sharply at Wade.
“She’s coming around,” he said hoarsely. “She’s been moving her hand for the last half hour and I just saw her eyelids twitch. She’s coming out of it.”
The nurse sprang into action and soon the room was filled with other medical personnel as they prepared to extubate her. An ICU doctor stood by, prepared to re-intubate her if she was unable to breathe on her own. Through it all, Wade continued to remain at her side, holding tightly to her hand, and no one argued with him as they worked around him.
He found himself holding his breath when the tube had been removed from Eliza’s throat and held it through the tense seconds following as they waited to see if she would breathe on her own.
Her vitals were checked every minute and then finally, the most beautiful words he’d ever heard came from the doctor.
“Her vitals are good and improving. She should wake soon.”
Wade’s knees buckled and nearly gave out. He gripped the railing with his free hand and stood there shaking, tears swimming in his eyes. Then he leaned over to kiss her forehead and whispered against her skin.
“Come back to me, baby. You’re going to be just fine. Open your eyes and look at me. Let me know you’re all right.”
Again he saw her eyelids twitch and her eyes moving beneath the closed lids and he caught his breath when he saw the first tiny glimpse of the whites of her eyes.
“That’s it,” he said urgently. “You can do this, Eliza. Wake up, baby. Wake up so I can tell you how much I love you and that I’m going to spend the rest of my life taking care of you.”
Her eyelids fluttered and then blinked, her gaze slowly tracking upward to his face. Then they remained open as she stared at him with recognition and awareness.
“Hi,” she whispered hoarsely, nearly inaudible.
It was too much for him to bear any longer. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he pressed his forehead to hers, holding on to her hand while she held on to his.
“Hi yourself,” he choked out when he was capable of speech. “Welcome back, beautiful. You scared the ever-loving hell out of me. How about we agree you never do that again?”
Her lips quivered into a semblance of a smile and her eyelids drooped as though it was taking all her strength to remain awake. He pulled his forehead from hers and then stroked her brow lovingly with his hand.
“Go back to sleep, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up. I swear it.”
“Wade?”
Wade roused instantly when Eliza’s voice reached his ears. It was a low, husky whisper, but nothing had ever sounded sweeter.
“I’m here, baby. How you feeling? Are you in pain? Do you want me to call the nurse?”
After regaining consciousness the initial time, Eliza had roused a few more times, but hadn’t had the strength to do much more than direct her determined stare at Wade and squeeze his hand. She’d held his hand while her team filtered