ALL too soon the others began filtering back into the living room and Jenna retreated into observation mode, shrinking against the couch as if to make herself invisible as she watched the others interact.
Isaac had used the need for more seating room as an excuse to move closer to Jenna until they sat side by side, their thighs touching. Eliza walked out ahead of Sterling to collect Jenna and Isaac’s plates, but before she could return them to the kitchen, Sterling was there, taking them from her, and then he leaned in and kissed her deeply.
“We need to be going,” Sterling said to Isaac and his men. “But my guys will be staying to guard the perimeter and if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me.”
Jenna had watched Eliza and Sterling, her eyes glazed with shock, but she waited until they’d left the room before she whispered to Isaac.
“Why did he kiss her?”
He could tell she was deeply confused and hell, so was he.
“He loves her,” he said simply. “She’s his wife. Hell, he can barely keep his hands off her most of the time,” he added with a chuckle.
There was no change in her expression.
“The men never kissed their wives,” she said in a low voice. “I was told I was unworthy of being kissed, of being held in such high regard, but none of the women were kissed. They were just possessions, married or not. I guess I don’t understand the point of kissing.”
Isaac swore under his breath. Just how old was Jenna? Was she even legal? He knew she looked young and there was definitely an air of innocence and naïveté about her that he’d never encountered even in very young girls. Jesus, if she wasn’t even of legal age, that meant he was almost twenty years older than her and he had no business having the thoughts he’d had of her.
“There are many reasons to kiss someone,” he said in a near whisper so the others wouldn’t hear. He knew she’d be deeply embarrassed if they were overheard. “Kisses can be a gesture of affection. Friendship. They can be an indication of passion. Of love. Of wanting someone. Or they can show a person that they are deeply cared about.”
Her sad expression of longing told him that she’d never felt any of those things, or at least that no one had ever felt those things about her.
He leaned forward, sliding his hand behind her neck to pull her toward him, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“See?” he said huskily. “It’s not so bad, is it?”
She stared strangely at him, color tinging her cheeks, her eyes glazed and her respirations speeding up as she emitted shallow breaths. Then she raised a shaking hand to touch the exact spot he’d kissed, almost as if committing it to memory.
“And, honey, if anyone is worthy of being kissed, of being held, of being given the utmost regard, it’s you. I don’t know what kind of bullshit you’ve been told and I know you’ve been told it often enough and long enough that you believe it, but if it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to prove you wrong.”
She turned away, but not before he saw the betraying glimmer of tears in her eyes and the sadness that seemed to swamp her entire expression. God damn it, he hated fighting a faceless, unknown enemy. Worse, he hated fighting against her own deeply ingrained belief that she had no worth.
He knew he should be pressuring her to answer his questions and provide the information he needed, not only to keep her safe and protected, but also his teammates, who were in more imminent danger. Her pursuers wanted her at all costs. Alive. But he and his teammates were expendable, mere obstacles in the way of the ultimate prize.
He doubted he knew even a fraction of the horror Jenna had been subjected to, but what little he did know instilled a fury unlike any he’d ever felt in his life. Not even hearing of Ramie’s gruesome ordeal and experiencing firsthand Ari, Gracie and Eliza being taken, tormented and tortured or learning of Ramie’s horrific ordeal before DSS was created and Isaac had come to work for the Devereaux brothers had made him feel this murderous.
How would he react when he finally knew it all? When the time came that Jenna trusted him enough to confide in him, he needed to be strong and in control for her. A rock for her to lean on. Her shelter and shield against anything or anyone that could ever hurt her again.
But he also knew that it would be the most difficult thing he’d ever have to do. To sit there and stoically listen as Jenna outlined what she’d been made to endure without losing his ever-loving mind. He wanted to lash out and destroy everything in his path, anything to unleash the terrible rage that bubbled within him even now before he knew everything, but he couldn’t afford to lose control, scare the fuck out of her and have her shut down and worse, shut him out.
Zeke spoke up, breaking the silence. “I know Sterling has men posted, but I think we should alternate taking watch through the night. Doesn’t hurt to double down.”
Dex and Knight nodded their agreement.
“I’ll take first watch,” Shadow said, standing up. “I’d like to see how close I can get to Sterling’s men without them noticing. Doesn’t do us any good to have them if they don’t do their jobs worth a shit.”
Jenna’s worried eyes found Shadow’s. “Please be careful,” she begged. “I’ve already caused so much harm to come to you all. I couldn’t bear it if anyone else was hurt or even killed this time because of me.”
Shadow immediately softened and then merely dropped a kiss atop her head as he walked by her. Not a single man in the room was unaffected by her statement or the guilt that lay so heavy in her voice. They looked as though they wanted to go to fucking battle, and they weren’t alone. Isaac wanted to lead the goddamn war and punish every last bastard who’d made her life a living hell.
“The rest of you get some sleep. I’ll wake Dex in three hours. Isaac, your only watch is to make sure Jenna is safe at all times.”
Jenna’s brow furrowed as Shadow disappeared and then she turned to Isaac, question and confusion in her beautiful blue eyes.
“So what kind of kiss was that?” she whispered. “I never realized there were so many reasons to kiss or reasons for kisses,” she amended.
“It was an affectionate kiss and one meant to reassure you,” Isaac said. At least that had better be all it was. It had taken everything not to growl when Shadow’s lips had touched her, even if it was just a light touch to her hair.
Isaac showed Jenna to the room at the end of the hall so she’d be flanked by two rooms, one he’d take and Dex, the other. When he flipped on the light and they entered, her eyes widened and she looked captivated.
“This is where I’m sleeping?” she asked in a hushed tone.
“Do you like it?” he asked, prepared to switch with her if it wasn’t to her liking.
“It’s the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen,” she said, her voice escaping in a sigh. Then she looked anxiously up at him and he was immediately desperate to do whatever necessary to ease her anxiety.
“What is it, Jenna?” he asked softly.
She bit her lip and then glanced between him and the bed. “Do I . . . do I get to sleep in the bed?”
He had to take a moment before responding, as rage mottled his vision and he had to bite back vicious curses. Unfortunately, she took his momentary silence as his response and her shoulders sagged, disappointment making her face droop with sadness.
“Of course you’ll sleep in the bed. Jenna honey . . . where did you think I meant for you to sleep?”
She flushed. “I was never allowed to sleep on a bed or even one of the cots. Only on a pallet on the floor, and sometimes it was taken away if I was being punished.”
Her eyes widened in horror and she clamped her mouth shut, turning away. It was just as well, because the expression on Isaac’s face would have scared the hell out of her. Someday, and he didn’t care how long it took, he was going to make every single one of the assholes who’d abused his angel pay dearly. It wouldn’t be quick and it wouldn’t be merciful. But it would be righteous.
Thank goodness her attention was drawn to the bed so she didn’t see the blackness in Isaac’s features. Her fingers ran reverently over the bedspread and then caressed the soft down pillows, so much longing in her eyes.
He couldn’t stay a minute longer without losing his composure. He wanted to smash something. He wanted blood. The blood of every person responsible for Jenna’s imprisonment.
“Why don’t I leave you to get dressed for bed and turn in for the night. You’re exhausted and you need your rest,” he said gruffly.
At her questioning look, he pointed out the large T-shirt and pajama shorts Eliza had left for her on the end of the bed.
“I’ll be next door if you need anything at all, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered. “Good night, Isaac.”
“Good night, sweetheart.”
She looked so vulnerable standing there in the middle of the room that it took all of Isaac’s strength to leave.
At the door, he turned back one last time. “Remember, I’m right next door. Nothing can hurt you here, okay? You need anything, you come get me.”
She gave a small smile and nodded and then he left, closing the door behind him.
TEN
ISAAC lay quietly in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, his thoughts consumed by the blue-eyed angel in the next room. Would she be able to sleep? And if she was, did nightmares plague her dreams?
What was it about her that called to a part of his heart and soul that had never been breached before? He could come up with plenty of reasonable explanations, like the fact that she’d saved his life. Or that he’d made it his life’s work to protect the innocent. Or the fact that she was lost in a world of which she had little understanding or knowledge. Or the fact that she needed him.
But the simple truth was that he needed her every bit as much as she needed him, and he couldn’t come up with a reason that made any sense to him.
He’d come across plenty of victimized women who’d desperately needed help, his protection, DSS’s protection, but never had he been even remotely possessive of them. He’d done his job, and it never failed to enrage him and rile his protective instincts. It was who and what he was; he’d never been a man to stand idly by while a woman was in danger or being abused.
But his angel wasn’t just any victim. She wasn’t just any woman in trouble and in need of protecting. And he had no idea what to do with that realization. He couldn’t even call it a realization, as if he’d just been struck by an epiphany as he lay there with no hope of sleeping. He’d known it from the moment she’d touched him, laid her hands on him, and he’d felt her in the very depths of his soul.
It wasn’t sexual—wholly—because he’d be a damn liar if he didn’t want her with every breath in his body. It was spiritual, and he felt like some hokey fool mooning over things like destiny and fate, but how could he call it anything else when from the moment she’d touched him he’d felt a connection that transcended any physical want or need?
And he was consumed with guilt for having sexual thoughts, lustful, needful thoughts, about a woman child whom he didn’t even know if she was of an age for him to be having such thoughts about her. She had the innocence of a girl with the body of a desirable woman. Hell, it was obvious that no matter how many years she’d lived in this world, she’d spent the majority of them sheltered, sequestered from the real world. She was either enraptured with or terrified of things that he and others took for granted.
She’d been conditioned.
He frowned. It appeared that at a very early age she’d been indoctrinated. Brainwashed. Taught an alternate reality that was twisted to fit the agenda of the people who’d kept her under lock and key, and they’d proven they would go to extreme measures to retrieve her. She was a valuable asset to them. Irreplaceable. He wondered when her powers had manifested themselves and as he pondered that question, he wondered if it was what had saved her from a far worse fate. Even the dumbest fucks would realize the enormity of what they possessed in Jenna.
He rolled over to retrieve his cell and punched in Eliza’s number, knowing it was late and that Sterling likely wouldn’t be pleased, but Eliza of all people would understand his suspicions. He needed to bounce some ideas off her.
“This better be damn good,” Eliza growled into the phone. “Because I was about to be the recipient of the mother of all orgasms, and Wade is just pissed enough to throw my phone in the pool and withhold sex for a week.”
Isaac burst out laughing when he heard Sterling in the background.
“Jesus fuck, woman, can we keep our sex life and your goddamn job separate?”
“Apparently not,” Eliza said acidly. “Since one of my esteemed coworkers just called me right in the middle of your best move.”
“You haven’t seen my best moves, baby. Yet,” Sterling said in a silky voice. “I’m saving those for when you’ve been a very good girl. It’ll give you something to look forward to.”
“Lizzie, stop. Please. I’m begging you. I’m going to need to bleach my eyes and my ears. I wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t important. Give me a few minutes and then I’ll let you get back to your, uh, nighttime activities. And my advice, for what it’s worth: work on being a very good girl.”
She snorted, but then all humor left her tone. “Hit me with it.”
“I was lying here thinking about Jenna and the weirdness of her situation. It’s almost like she’s been conditioned and indoctrinated over a period of years to accept an alternative reality and to reject any semblance of the modern world.”
“Yeah, I could see that.”
“What if she came from one of those survivalist groups. Living off the grid. Government and the modern world are the enemy. It would explain her unfamiliarity with the most basic essentials of what’s everyday normal life to you and me.”
Eliza paused for a moment. “Could be, but that’s not what my gut tells me. Survivalist groups are very aware of the world around them. They have to be, in their minds. How else will they know how to survive, how to resist invasion, being taken over, et cetera. And Isaac, that shit about how the women were treated in whatever fucked-up place she lived? That’s not how most, and I say most because there’s always the one exception, of these groups operate. They have wives, families, children, and they’re very protective of them. They don’t treat them like cattle or breeding stock or starve them of love and affection. I’d say you’ve got yourself one fucked-up situation where a person or persons only play by the rules they themselves make. Those are the most dangerous kind because in their mind, they aren’t doing anything wrong. But they’ve been wronged. First by Jenna by her leaving the fold, and then by the people aiding her. They’re all about control and if they lose that control, they become dangerous and unstable. More so than they already are.”
“Don’t mean to drag up bad memories for you, Lizzie,” Isaac said quietly.
He could almost hear Eliza’s smile through the phone. “He’s dead now, Isaac. He has no hold on me. He can only hurt me if I let him and he can only do that through memories or dreams, and Wade is very good at keeping him out of my head.”
Isaac laughed. “I can well imagine. Thanks, Lizzie. I just needed another perspective. This is driving me crazy. I know we need answers, but I won’t push her. I won’t force her to do anything. I want her to trust me enough to tell me on her own.”
“Understandable,” Eliza said quietly. “And smart on your part. Good luck, and I know I don’t have to say this, but handle her gently. She looks to be very close to her breaking point.”
“You’re right. You don’t need to say it, but thanks anyway.”
“Anytime, Isaac. And be careful, okay? I’d rather not hear about someone I care about having another brush with death.”
“Now you know how I felt when it was you, Lizzie.”
“Good night,” she whispered.
Isaac slid his phone back over onto the nightstand and then went stock-still, his hand automatically reaching for his gun when his door slowly cracked open the barest of inches. But when the door opened wider to reveal Jenna illuminated by the dim hall light, her hair tousled like she’d been restless and unable to sleep, his hand eased away from the gun.
“Isaac?” she softly called.
“Yes, honey, I’m here.”
She took a hesitant step forward, her nervousness evident in her stance and demeanor.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t,” he reassured her. “Is something wrong?”
She bit into her bottom lip and glanced downward, and he knew if the light were better he’d be able to see the blush that was surely adorning her cheeks.
“Hey, come here,” he said.
She walked forward, stopping at the foot of the bed. She continued to avoid his gaze, finding anything else to focus on.
“Jenna, look at me,” he commanded gently.
Finally she lifted her gaze, and he was gutted by the unease reflected in her eyes.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“I wanted to ask . . . I mean if you didn’t mind . . . I wanted . . . well, it’s stupid, but I couldn’t sleep because I’m afraid,” she whispered. “Would you mind if I stayed in here with you?”
His heart damn near stopped. It was the very last thing he’d expected her to ask, but there was no way in hell he was telling her no. The idea that she’d been lying in the room next to his unable to sleep because she was afraid damn near broke his heart.
“Of course I don’t mind. Get the door, okay? And then come here.”
She turned and retraced the few steps to close the door and then walked to the side of the bed and to his utter bewilderment, she settled down on the floor, curling her knees into her chest, obviously planning to sleep there.
“Jenna, no,” he said, more harshly than he intended.
His tone startled her and then she looked crushed, tears of mortification welling in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I shouldn’t have come. It wasn’t my place. Don’t be angry, please. I couldn’t bear it if you were angry with me.”
He was momentarily speechless as she hurried to get up, but then he was out of the bed and in front of her before he even realized he was there. He placed gentle hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him.
“Honey, I’m not angry with you. I’m pissed that you thought you had to sleep on the floor. You will never sleep on the goddamn floor again, is that clear?”
The shocked look on her face only intensified when he simply lifted her slight figure into his arms and then leaned over the bed, depositing her on the opposite side so her head was nestled on the pillows. Then he crawled up on his side, pulling the covers over both of them.
“Come here,” he said again, his voice soft and full of apology.
She awkwardly moved toward him a few inches, so he reached for her and hauled her against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her so her cheek was pressed right over his heart and his chin rested atop her head.
She was stiff as a board and he could barely feel her breathe as she processed the situation. He could feel the panic coursing through her veins and her rapid pulse and increased respirations.
“Relax, Jenna,” he ordered. “Nothing can hurt you here. Now what were you afraid of? Did you see something? Hear something?”
Gradually she began to relax, though it seemed an eternity before she finally capitulated and her soft curves melded to his much harder frame.
“It’s stupid,” she muttered, obviously embarrassed now that she was over her initial fright.
“There aren’t rules when it comes to fear, honey. Everyone fears something and it can strike at any time with no warning, and even the simplest, unassuming thing can trigger it. What was it that scared you?”
“The window,” she blurted. “Since my room is in the middle, the only window is at the back of the house and faces . . . nothing. It’s just dark, and the window is so big and it’s so close to my bed, and all I could think was how easy it would be for someone to take me out of that window before anyone even realized I was gone. I used to long for windows. I hated the room where I was kept because there was never any sunshine. Nothing to see but four walls. But now I hate them, because now I know what’s out there just waiting and how easy having a window makes it for people to get in.”
“That’s not stupid, sweetheart,” Isaac soothed. “It’s smart, and it means you’re aware of your surroundings and the possible dangers associated. But I promise you that nothing will hurt you in this room when you’re with me. And there is no way I’ll let anyone take you from me. Can you trust me that much, Jenna?”
She snuggled even closer to his chest, their legs sliding and bumping together until finally he trapped hers between his and held her close, lending her his warmth and comfort.
“I do trust you,” she whispered. “I know it seems like I don’t because I haven’t told you anything, or at least much. It’s just that I’m so ashamed.”
Tears were thick in her voice and he threaded one hand through her hair and then pressed his lips to the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her honeyed tresses.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of, Jenna. I wish I could make you see that, believe that. God, I can’t think of a person more worthy and undeserving of shame than you. Do you even realize how good you are? How brightly you shine? It’s all there for the world to see. Your gentleness, your compassion, your goodness. And your beauty,” he whispered. “Never have I seen a more beautiful woman than you.”
Her small fingertips dug into his chest and he felt her slight tremble, the effect his words had on her. Then she lifted her head so that she could look him in the eye.
It was obvious she was nervous, and she had the most adorably shy look as her gaze traveled over his entire face.
“Can I ask you something?” she asked in a hushed whisper he had to strain to