Echoes at Dawn

She’d been a virgin and he’d been her first. He also hadn’t thought to use a condom. Perhaps more irresponsible than not using a condom was the fact that he didn’t give a shit that he hadn’t.



In his mind, she was his. Whatever happened as a result of th



eir lovemaking, they’d face together. Just like they’d meet head-on the dangers that pursued them.



He tossed aside the washcloth and then pulled back the covers so he could get her underneath. After she was settled, he climbed in beside her and pulled her flush against his body, tucking her head beneath his chin.



There was a lot to think about. A lot to decide. But some decisions had already been made. Such as the first time he’d ever seen Grace Peterson and decided that she was his.



He’d tracked her down. He’d sworn to protect her. She was here in his arms, in his personal sanctuary.



For him, that was akin to a freaking marriage proposal.



CHAPTER 23



GRACE dozed lightly, snuggled tightly in Rio’s arms. She never slept fully but instead existed in a dreamlike state. She was limp, drained of energy, but in an oh my God good way.



He felt good against her. Strong. Hard as a brick. Warm. And so comforting. She felt cherished and that was her weakness.



She wanted someone to demonstrate the kind of caring that went beyond an impersonal relationship.



She rubbed her cheek over his chest and sighed.



“What’s the sigh for?”



She lifted her head to see that he was very much awake and staring inquisitively down at her. She propped her head up in her palm and nudged her elbow up under her pillow so she could see him while still remaining as close to him as possible.



“Just seemed like the thing to do,” she said simply.



f Pen puHe touched her cheek and then her hair, stroking lightly as he continued to study her. Then he cocked his head to the side. “Why me?”



Warmth seeped into her cheeks. She didn’t deliberately try to misunderstand his question. She wasn’t entirely certain just how honest she should be with him. How she answered could change a lot between them. Or change nothing at all.



“You have to know what my life’s been like,” she said in a low voice. “Always moving. Never having friends. Never trusting anyone. It was so ingrained in me and Shea that after a while being loners was just natural.



“Shea…Shea was a little better at it than I was. I mean she tried more. She wanted a normal life and I think in the beginning she was more naïve in thinking she could actually have that normalcy. We both were in denial of our circumstances, but she more than I ignored the reality of who and what we were. I think Shea thought if she didn’t acknowledge it, then it didn’t exist.



“For me, it was an everyday battle. Always seeing people hurting. In need. Knowing of sick children. I lived with the knowledge that I could help them. That I could make a difference and yet I could tell no one, and if I reached out to one of them, it would mean discovery not only for me but for my sister.”



“That’s a hell of a lot of responsibility to take on your shoulders,” Rio muttered.



“I hated myself.”



Rio slid his hand over her face, cupping her cheek as his eyes bored into hers. “No. Don’t hate yourself.” He kissed her, leaving his lips pressed against hers as he stroked her hair. “You can’t be responsible for the world. You can’t help everyone. You know what it does to you. How does it help anyone if you die?”



“It frustrates me, you know? I feel like I’ve been given this really awesome gift but, oh wait, I can’t use it because it may be too much and I may die. What kind of deal is that? What’s the point? Not using it seems so irresponsible and selfish. And yet if I use it, it endangers me and my sister. No matter what I do, the outcome sucks.”



She was near tears again, and instead of showing her utter weakness once more, she turned her face into the pillow and then burrowed closer to him so that her head was wedged between his chin and the pillow.



Rio continued to run his hand over her hair, pulling through the strands with his fingers. For a long moment, he was silent. Only the sounds of his breathing filled the room.



When he spoke, it was a low rumble, serious and yet calm.



“I don’t have the answer to that, Grace. Maybe your purpose hasn’t yet been revealed. Maybe what you’re supposed to do is survive until the day when you know why you’ve been given this gift.”



His words sank in and she went still. Slowly she raised her head and stared into his eyes. “You think so?”



Rio shrugged. “I’m a big believer in everything having a purpose. To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.”



Her eyes widened as he quoted a passage from the Bible.



He gave her a mocking look. “What? Don’t think I’m the religious type?”



She had no idea what to say to that so she remained silent.



“My point is that even in olden times, the wisest of men believed that everyone had a purpose and that there is a time for everything under the sun. This is your time to heal. To grow stronger. And then one day the time will come when your purpose will be revealed. It may naleble, serioot be today or tomorrow or even next year. But I don’t believe in accidents of nature. You were given this gift. Your sister was given her ability. For a reason.”



Her mouth turned down. “But we weren’t born. We weren’t God’s creation at all. We were conceived in some petri dish in some cold, sterile lab where they wanted to replicate instances of special abilities occurring in the human populace. They hoped by mixing the right genes together that they’d create something extraordinary.”



He smiled and touched his finger to her lips. “You don’t think He had any hand in it whatsoever? Just because you weren’t conceived the old-fashioned way doesn’t mean your purpose isn’t any greater. What if He decided to take something bad and make it good? Look at what Shea did for Nathan. And for Swanny. They’re alive because of her. Never underestimate your value, Grace. Or your purpose. You were put on this earth for a reason. You’re here with me now for a reason.”



He curled a thick strand of her hair around his finger and tugged slightly. “Has it ever occurred to you that you’re here for me?”



Her eyebrows went up. What could she say to that? So she turned it back instead. “And maybe your purpose was to save me.”



He smiled. “Maybe so. Maybe we’ll end up saving each other.”



“Why do you need saving, Rio? Who are you? Is Rio your real name?”



Some of the light dimmed in his eyes and his lips flatlined. He went silent and his fingers slowly drifted from her hair. Then he grimaced. “My real name is Eduardo Bezerra. There, I’ve told you something that most other living people don’t know.”



Her brow wrinkled. “You don’t look like an Eduardo. Rio suits you. But how did you get the name?”



“Everyone usually ends up with a nickname in the military. My father was American. My mother was Brazilian. I was born in Rio de Janeiro, but we moved with him back to the U.S. when I was very young. I joined the military right out of high school. When I entered Black Ops, I ceased to exist as Eduardo Bezerra anyway, and anyone who knew him was told he’d died in combat.”



The implication of what he said hit her hard. She frowned and stared up at him for confirmation. “But what about your family? Your parents? You said you had a sister. Surely they weren’t told you died.”



Pain swamped his eyes and then he simply turned away, rolling to the edge of the bed. He sat up, pulling the sheet with him, and he sat there on the edge, leaning forward, head down.



She got awkwardly to her knees, feeling exposed and vulnerable. But there was something about the look in his eyes that struck a chord deep within her. She’d felt his pain. For a moment it was as if her mind had opened up that path again and she’d gotten a glimpse inside his mind.



Tortured. Guilt. So much guilt and sorrow.



Tentatively, she touched his shoulder. He flinched and the muscles jumped and coiled underneath her fingers, but she didn’t remove her hand.



Then she wrapped her arms around him, laid her head on his shoulder and hugged him tightly, her breasts pressed to his back. She kissed the ball of his shoulder and simply knelt there holding him.



“Did you see it all? I felt you in my head for just a moment,” he said bitterly.



She kissed him again and ignored the sharpness in his tone. “No. Even if I could, I wouldn’t have. I don’t establish links with people I’m not close to. It’s a breach in privacy and I’d never en019 cocroach on yours.”



He slid his hand up to cover one of her hands that lay over his chest. “Well, that put me in my place, I suppose. I snap because you’re in my head and yet I don’t like you saying that you wouldn’t because you don’t establish links with people you aren’t close to. Guess I can’t have it both ways, can I?”



She rested her chin on his shoulder and sighed. “Tell me what’s wrong, Rio. It doesn’t have to be so difficult that I have to read your mind or see your thoughts. All you have to do is tell me what it is. They told your parents that you’d died?”



He gripped her hand tighter and then carefully loosened his hold. “Yes. At the time I was young and idealistic. It was all for the greater good. In order to serve my country, I had to die. I couldn’t have ties. They needed the ultimate soldier. No family. No baggage. Nothing to hold me back. Nothing that would take a higher priority than my mission. My parents had Rosalina, and I thought everything would be fine.”



He sighed deeply and wiped a hand over his face, pushing it back into his hair and holding it there at his nape, his knuckles white from his grip.



“I was a selfish, glory-seeking fool.”



Grace winced at the self-condemnation in his voice. “And now? Do they know you’re alive?”



“They do,” Rio said, so soft she almost didn’t hear. “And yet I am dead to them still.”



Grace blinked, not sure she’d heard him correctly. “I don’t understand.”



“You know this part. My sister got involved with a man who was all wrong for her. He was older, controlling. He was a bastard of the first order. He killed her.”



Even though he’d already told her as much earlier, she still winced at how casually violence had been meted out.



“I should have been there. It would have never happened. My father had suffered a heart attack. I never knew. I was too busy out saving the world, or so I thought. In truth, I was drowning in shades of gray so murky that I was treading water you couldn’t see through. My mother was afraid of Rosalina’s husband and there was little my father could do in his failing health.



“I was between missions and having doubts about my purpose. Having doubts that I’d done the right thing. I no longer believed in what we were doing. I wasn’t even sure what master we served. I went to my sister’s house, intending only to see her. I didn’t even know if she had children. I just wanted to look. To make sure she was happy and healthy. What I found was a pregnant woman beaten so badly that she died in my arms, thinking I was a fucking ghost.”



He choked off and covered part of his face with his hand. “I swore vengeance. It was all I could think to do. I felt so damn guilty. I felt responsible. It became my sole mission in life to make the bastard pay for what he’d done. I tracked him down and I killed him. I don’t regret it. He suffered just as Rosalina suffered. And when I was done, I went to my mother and my father and I told them what I’d done. All of it.”



Grace caught her breath and went still against him. She hugged him tighter because she sensed that this was where it had gotten bad. She held her breath, dreading what he would say next.



“I’ll never forget the way my mother looked at me. With such grief and disappointment. My father just looked weary and gray. She said that no son of hers would have ever let his family grieve for his death and that no son of hers would come to her house with blood on his hands, stinkingande the rig of revenge. She then said that in her eyes I was no better than the man who’d killed her daughter and that her son died years before.”



“Oh, Rio,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”



“I deserved it,” he said bleakly.



“No one deserves to be denied forgiveness.”



“I turned my back on my family.”



She didn’t argue. There was a lot she could say, but in the end, it wouldn’t make any difference. And he didn’t need meaningless platitudes. Some pain just had to be healed over time. And some wounds took much longer than others to mend.



But she could offer him comfort. The same comfort he’d given to her. She slid off the bed and then climbed onto his lap, straddling his legs as she wrapped her arms around his neck.



He stared into her eyes, his own gaze serious and intense. “You have to understand, Grace. I’ll never turn my back on you. I’m not walking away. I swore I’d protect you and I’ll die before going back on my word. I’ll never let what happened to my sister and to my family happen to you.”