Keep Me Safe(85)

Dane squatted down in front of Caleb, his expression dim. “We’ve got a mess here, Caleb. That video was sent to the police. They’re looking for you even now. There’s three dead bodies at the safe house and now another here.”

“Tell me you wouldn’t have shot him too,” Caleb ground out. He rocked Ramie harder, holding her head against his chest as he buried his face in her hair. “As long as he lived, Ramie would also be connected to him. I would always worry that he was using me to hurt her. I don’t regret killing him. The only regret I have is that he didn’t suffer more.”

“He’s speaking the truth,” Eliza said grimly. “The only way to end this was with his death. That’s the only way Ramie or Caleb could ever be free.”

“I thought you’d done it,” Beau said painfully. “I actually believed my brother had done this.”

Caleb slowly lifted red-rimmed eyes to Beau. “I did do this,” he whispered.

Beau shook his head. “No. No! You didn’t. He did. You were merely the instrument of his choosing.”

Caleb ignored Beau’s outburst and resumed his rhythmic rocking.

“Caleb, we need to get her to the hospital,” Eliza said gently. “She’s lost a lot of blood and she finally passed out. Don’t have done all this for nothing and let her die anyway.”

Panicked, Caleb pulled Ramie back, allowing her head to loll and tip backward. He pressed two fingers into her neck, relieved to find a weak pulse.

Dane rose and reached into his shoulder holster to retrieve one of his pistols. He wiped it completely clean with a handkerchief and then picked up the killer’s hand and wrapped his fingers around the stock. He was certain to put one of the fingers on the trigger so a partial print would be found there. With his hand covering the killer’s but not touching any part of the gun, Dane lowered the hand holding the gun to the floor.

“Too bad he drew his weapon,” Dane murmured. “Caleb had no choice but to shoot him.” Beau’s mouth quirked, the corners drawing up in amusement.

“Yeah, that’s a real shame.”

“Let’s go, Caleb,” Eliza gently urged. “We have a lot of explaining to do before Ramie can come home.”

Caleb closed his eyes in grief because he knew Ramie would never come home to him. Who could blame her? Obviously somewhere in the deepest recesses of his soul he must be capable of the horrific or his mind wouldn’t have been so easily controlled.





THIRTY-SEVEN




THE steady beep of the heart monitor reassured Caleb that Ramie’s heart still beat. In his darker moments, he’d feared that he had been too late and that she’d die of blood loss from all the knife wounds to her body. Cuts he’d inflicted. He still couldn’t look at her without his stomach knotting viciously.

He’d been her constant shadow in the days following her rescue. She hadn’t yet regained consciousness but the doctor had told Caleb that she had a lot of healing to do and it was best done while sleeping. It was the body’s natural way of ensuring its recovery.

Only by the grace of God was Caleb not in jail at this very moment. The two lieutenants who’d witnessed Ramie’s psychic abilities had gone to the D.A. and at least stalled any action until Ramie could herself be questioned about the incident.

Caleb stood by her bed, stroking his knuckle down the still-bruised skin of her face. He touched her loose curls, twining one around his finger and then letting go, it jiggling like a Slinky down the stairs.

He wasn’t in any hurry for her to wake up because when she did, she’d look at him with the knowledge of his betrayal in her eyes. Until such time, he was content to stand here and watch over her while she slept so peacefully.

As it was, it happened when he wasn’t the least bit prepared for it.

The fingers of her right and his left hand were laced together and rested on the bed next to her side. He was sitting in a chair next to the head of the bed and he’d leaned over, resting his cheek against the reassuring pitter-patter of her chest.

He’d drifted to sleep, into sweet forgetfulness, when he felt her stir and then stiffen. He lifted his head, expecting the worst and yet still gutted when fear chased the color from her face.

A panicked whimper slipped from trembling lips.

He stared at her a long moment and then simply backed away from the bed, his hands up where she could see them.

“I just wanted to make sure you were really okay,” he whispered, his heart breaking wide open. “I’ll go now. Eliza or Dane will be in to take over.”

He lifted one tiny hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the palm.