Keep Me Safe(86)

“I love you, Ramie. I’ll always love you.”

And then he turned and walked away, closing her door carefully behind him.





THIRTY-EIGHT




RAMIE stared at the opposing wall of her hospital room and once again practiced making her mind go completely blank. She was getting more adept at the skill, which gave her hope that her future would be nothing like her past.

So much pain and devastation. Lives wrecked, ruined. It didn’t make any sense to her why people like Charles Bloomberg were even born. The sole legacy he’d left behind was one of pain and misery, not only for her and Caleb, but for so many other victims.

She was overcome with sadness, the weight becoming heavier and heavier with each passing day. She was sliding helplessly into a void she might never get out of. She couldn’t muster the energy to care.

Caleb hadn’t been back to see her since the day she woke up and he’d kissed her goodbye. Even after she’d absolved him of the horrific charge he was facing with the police, he hadn’t returned.

Warm, salty tears burned her eyelids and she sucked them back, taking several deep, steadying breaths so she didn’t cry. Again. So far everyone who’d come to see her had been cried all over by her.

Especially Tori, Quinn and Beau Devereaux. She’d cried so hard that they’d instantly retreated, apologizing for traumatizing her.

She wearily closed her eyes, uncaring that all she did these days was sleep. The doctor had asked her if she was ready to go home and she’d merely shrugged. She didn’t have a home so it didn’t really matter if she stayed or went.

A soft knock sounded at her door. As with all her other visitors, they didn’t wait for her to offer a summons. Eliza barged in a few seconds later, her eyes bright and cheerful, her sunny demeanor making Ramie want to hold her down and choke her with her own hair.

How could anyone be that friggin’ happy? Especially when Ramie was so friggin’ miserable.

She glowered darkly at Eliza, but Eliza didn’t look like the happy, chipper Eliza Ramie had been subjected to for the last week. She’d lost count of the days she’d spent recovering in the hospital. Just as she’d lost count of the stitches they’d had to give her. She was a veritable Frankenstein’s Monster these days.

“I need to talk to you, Ramie,” Eliza said firmly. “And since I know you can’t go anywhere, I’m taking advantage of you being a captive audience.”

Ramie raised one eyebrow, wondering what had gotten up Eliza’s behind.

“Can you not bring yourself to forgive Caleb? Or at the very least offer some understanding? I’d think you of all people would know what it felt like to be at the mercy of someone else and their bidding. For God’s sake, Caleb killed him in cold blood . . . ​for you. So you’d never be linked to him or anyone else again.”

Ramie went utterly still, her pulse pounding like a freight train in her head.

“What?” she croaked. “What did you say?”

“He’s dead!” Eliza snapped. Then her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “Oh shit, no one told you, did they? They were probably all tiptoeing around you and not wanting to take you back to a place so painful.”

“No one told me what?” Ramie asked impatiently.

“Charles Bloomberg is dead,” Eliza said quietly. “Caleb shot him. He knew that unless Charles died, you’d still have a connection to him. And likely so would Caleb.”

It was automatic for Ramie to seek out the mental pathway that she’d lived with for over a year. Something she’d avoided ever since she’d been rescued, but now she opened her mind, seeking the very evil responsible for putting her here. She felt . . . ​nothing. Just a blank void as if he’d never existed. He truly was dead!

Ramie closed her eyes as sweet relief billowed over her body. This time her tears were ones of relief. Staggering, overwhelming relief.

She was free.

Caleb was free.

“I’m free,” Ramie whispered.

“Yes, hon, you’re free,” Eliza said, patting her hand. “Now about Caleb.”

“Where is he?” Ramie demanded. “I need to see him here right now.”

Eliza’s expression became somber, sadness glittering in her eyes. “He’s gone.”

Ramie couldn’t help the stab of pain that speared her heart. He’d just left her?

“Why?” she croaked out.

Eliza’s eyes dimmed with sympathy and she moved to sit on the bed next to Ramie, taking her hand and squeezing.

“He didn’t think you wanted him here or to see him,” she said gently. “After what happened . . . ​He thinks you blame him for what he did. He’s not in good shape, Ramie. He’s gutted by what he was forced to do to you.”