“I can’t,” Ellie sobbed. “I can’t do it right now.”
Zane felt a rage start to rise, an emotion he’d never experienced before with so much intensity. “Turn off the goddamn camera,” he informed the television crew. “No interviews.” His voice was more of a growl as he spoke, his instinct to protect Ellie from anything that upset her impossible for him to ignore.
Eying the reporter angrily, Zane demanded, “Leave. Take your ass back to Denver or I’ll make sure you can’t ever do an interview again. Ellie has been through enough.” Jesus, he hated these bloodsuckers. Reporters just kept digging until their victim practically bled out from the wounds.
“It’s not like we’re on your property,” the reporter replied snidely. “We’re totally within our rights to report the news.”
Zane lost his temper. “You’re not fucking reporting news. You’re upsetting a victim, a woman who has been through one hell of an ordeal for no reason, through no fault of her own. The perpetrator is dead. You just want this story to entertain the curious who want to know the details.” He stopped and took a long breath. “Just get the hell out of Rocky Springs and don’t come back.”
“You can’t make me leave,” the newsman responded.
“He appears to have his arms full. But if he can’t make you leave, I can,” a baritone drawled from behind Zane.
It was Marcus. Although Blake and Marcus sounded very similar, the smooth assurance was all Zane’s eldest brother.
“Want me to hold him?” Blake questioned.
“I’ll help,” Tate offered angrily. “Shit! I thought I’d covered your trail so well that nobody would find her. I’m sorry, Ellie.”
Zane desperately wanted to stay so he could slam the insistent reporter against a wall somewhere and shut him up, but Ellie was shivering in his arms. “Let’s get you to the car.” Turning, he put an arm protectively around Ellie and urged her toward his SUV parked down the street.
“We’ll handle this,” Marcus said stoically as Zane and Ellie passed him.
Zane nodded at him. “I know. Thanks.” His brothers would make sure the media left town, no matter what it took to make that happen.
Ellie lifted her fingers to swipe away her tears aggressively. “I’m sorry. It was silly of me to get so upset over a reporter.”
“It’s not silly,” Zane retorted. “If you’re not ready, you don’t have to talk about it. If you’re never ready, you never have to say anything about it.”
Ellie had met with the police, and she’d given a statement. But with the guilty party dead, they’d taken her brief explanation without the details and closed the case. Zane had been relieved even though he knew someday she’d have to chase away her demons by talking about it.
Maybe she’ll talk to Chloe.
Zane stared down at her profile as they walked, noting that she looked exhausted. As they arrived at his vehicle, he felt guilty for not taking the bags she held. In his thirst for blood flowing from the reporter who had accosted Ellie, he hadn’t noticed them. Not that it looked like she bought much. She only had two small bags.
“I’ll take those. Jump in.” He took her packages and opened the door for her before he went to the cargo area and stored her stuff.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, he closed the door and started the car so it would warm up.
Ellie was trying to brush the snow out of her hair with her cold fingers.
“I hope you bought some more winter stuff,” he grumbled as he pulled away from the curb, not even bothering to look behind him. Zane had faith that his brothers would handle the reporter situation.
“I have some winter things in my belongings. I just haven’t sorted everything out yet,” she said hesitantly, obviously still emotional. “I have the stuff you got me, but I didn’t think I’d be outside for long.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for the emotional scene.”
“Those people scared you?” Zane asked, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel, pissed off at anybody who caused Ellie to get upset.
“Not scared really,” Ellie said with a sigh. “I just don’t really want to reveal my humiliation to the entire world. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to do that.”
Ellie felt shame, and that nearly pushed Zane over the edge. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault.”
“But that doesn’t make it less humiliating,” Ellie countered.
As he turned a corner to head back toward his house, he mumbled a curse before answering. James had been a psychopath, and he still remembered her briefly telling him how he’d made her beg for food and water. “Don’t even feel ashamed,” he said gruffly. “James was the sociopath and you were his victim. It takes a lot of courage to survive what you did, Ell.”