Keep Me Safe(88)

She parked beside his SUV and sat a moment gathering her courage for the impending confrontation. What if Caleb refused to see her? What if she’d waited too long, her irrational desperation to feel safe overriding all else? When she thought back to her reaction when she’d awakened from the grasp of a nightmare to see the very man who’d starred in the terrible memory there, in front of her, she cringed all over again. It had been a rejection. A cold one at that.

She was more afraid than she’d ever been before. Even when she’d awakened that horrible night with Caleb above her, slicing through her skin. She closed her eyes, banishing the disturbing image from her mind.

Those memories had no place in the here and now. The man who’d done so much damage to so many people was finally dead and she and Caleb could be at peace. Finally at peace.

Wiping her damp palms down the legs of her jeans she carefully got out of the Jeep Beau had rented for her. She was still in a lot of pain and had to move slowly, but determination got her to the door where she knocked with every bit of the force Caleb had once knocked on this same door.

It opened within seconds and Caleb stood there, brows furrowed, fury glinting in his eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing out of the hospital? Are you out of your goddamn mind? Do you even know how close you came to dying? That I tried my damnedest to kill you?” he asked hoarsely.

“I was released two days ago,” she said lightly.

“Then you need to be in bed, not traipsing across the country to some godforsaken cabin in the middle of fucking nowhere!”

Then he seemed to realize that she was here and not where he’d ranted that she should be. Confusion clouded his eyes and his features went rigid, as though preparing himself for more hurt. Hurt she’d unwittingly caused him.

They’d hurt each other over the course of their short but volatile time together. It was time to move past that. To look ahead and forget all that was behind them. Looking back did neither of them any good. If either one of them refused to shake the grip their past held on them, they had no chance at all. Their relationship was well and truly doomed. It was up to her to make him put it all behind them both.

“What are you doing here, Ramie? Haven’t I hurt you enough?”

“Are you going to invite me in or let me freeze to death out here?” she asked pointedly.

Her words galvanized him to action and he quickly ushered her in and sat her down in front of the fireplace, his touches so gentle that her chest ached. It was obvious he was working hard not to touch her at all and yet still ensuring her absolute comfort.

But as his hands slid away, his fingertip brushed over one of the stitches on her arm barely peeking out from the long-sleeve shirt she wore.

Sorrow swamped his face as he brushed his thumb upward, pushing the sleeve to bare even more of the twelve-inch slice he’d inflicted down the length of her arm. And then as if realizing what he was doing—inspecting the injury he’d caused—he yanked his hand back as if burned.

“Eliza said you killed him,” she said casually to take his focus off his obvious self-loathing.

Sorrow shone in Caleb’s eyes and he looked away as though he were unable to bear it if she condemned him for what he’d done.

“He’s dead,” Caleb said flatly. “I don’t regret killing him.”

She wondered if he even heard the defensiveness in his voice. Did he think she would condemn him?

“Good,” she said savagely. “Do you realize we’re truly free now?”

His brow arched and furrowed in obvious confusion. He nodded as if not trusting himself to speak. Or perhaps he simply didn’t know what to say. He looked as though he were afraid to say anything at all because he was still trying to sort out why she’d come all this way to tell him something he already knew.

She was waiting no longer. They’d suffered long enough. Suffered too long a separation even if it only had been two weeks.

She reached her hand out to him, praying he wouldn’t reject her. He stared at it for a long moment until something shriveled and died inside her. She started to lower it, already bracing herself for his rejection and then to her profound relief, he caught her hand before it rested on her lap and slid his fingers over hers, lacing them together.

She pulled desperately at him, wanting him near her, close, touching her. He stumbled forward, a deep frown on his face. She reached up to him with her other hand, practically climbing him in her effort to pull him all the way down to where she sat on the couch.

“Hold me,” she whispered. “Please, Caleb. I need you to hold me. Banish the painful memories and replace them with new ones.”