Honorable. Determined. Beautiful.
Yes, beautiful. He’d hate that description. Her seeming obliviousness to his physical scars baffled and discomfited him.
He was the kind of man who existed only in fiction. Confident and yet vulnerable. Determined to protect her at all costs.
She was fascinated by him and drawn by an inexplicable force. But their relationship had been forged in the fires of hell. Already they’d endured more than most other couples would ever endure in a lifetime. They’d been tested, together and individually, and yet here they were, clinging to each other, each the salvation of the other.
Yes, she was his. She didn’t refute it. And he was hers.
It sounded so easy. So pat. And yet, their path still lay difficult and winding in front of them. She didn’t have the luxury of a relationship, a normal courtship, dreams of a life filled with love and children and family.
How could she ever hope to achieve such a thing when she was doomed to always looking over her shoulder? She had to protect Grace. She had to protect herself and she couldn’t ask someone else to bear those same burdens.
Nathan had already given more than any man should ever be asked to give. For his country. His family. Himself even. He needed the comfort and support of his family. And while she desperately needed his help now—she had no choice but to ask it of him—she could never hope to have any sort of a future with him when such a thing would place him in constant danger.
She was a realist. Yes, the idea saddened her. She mourned for what might have been, but she wasn’t going to allow herself to dwell on it because it brought her nothing but sadness.
Nathan would always be a part of her—the best part aside from Grace. But some things just weren’t possible or even plausible. For her, a normal relationship was one of those things.
A year ago, she wouldn’t have imagined such a pragmatic attitude. She was a romantic. What woman wasn’t at her very heart? She wanted the same things other women wanted. Love. A husband. Children eventually. Things to fill her life and complete her.
She’d spent years in denial over her gift. Never once had she imagined that it could interfere with having a normal existence. It was naïve of her. She could admit that. But who ever considered that violence would suddenly be thrust into their life, forever changing the course of it?
Maybe it was irresponsible of her, never considering the repercussions of having telepathic abilities. But in her scope, her gift wasn’t world changing. It wasn’t even some great power with the ability to change the world. Yeah, she could talk to people in their mind. So what?
Now she was facing the consequences of such denial. Her parents had paid the cost and so had Grace.
She couldn’t be stupid any longer. And she absolutely had to find a way to take control of her life. She refused to spend the rest of her life running from some faceless, nameless enemy.
She hadn’t wanted Grace to risk investigating, but she also realized that her sister was the smart one. She was being proactive because she wanted her life back. Shea had spent the last year running, hiding, just trying to survive and keep her sister safe. It was time to change all that.
Shea raised her gaze to Nathan’s profile again. She had help now. She wasn’t alone. Nathan had resources she couldn’t even begin to imagine. No, she didn’t know whom she could trust—or if she should trust anyone. But she did trust Nathan, and by proxy, she’d trust whomever he chose to place his trust in.
What other choice did she have?
CHAPTER 20
“TELL me more about your childhood. How did you and Grace hide your abilities from your friends? People at school?”
Shea started in surprise. She’d long since directed her stare out the window at the passing scenery. Her excitement and dread had grown as they drew closer to the house she hadn’t been back to since she and Grace had fled a year ago.
“We just didn’t use them,” she said simply. “Our parents drummed into us from as early as I have memory that we had to keep our secrets. No one outside our family was to ever know.”
Nathan frowned. “That shows remarkable restraint. Kids talk to their friends. Let things slip. Let’s face it, children aren’t very secretive.”
Shea shrugged. “We didn’t have friends. We were homeschooled. Our parents were super careful about who we were exposed to. We were never allowed to have other kids over. At the time, it all seemed so normal. It was our existence. It wasn’t until later that I looked back and realized it was like living in a survivalist family. Deep paranoia. Suspicious of everyone. No social life. One of the biggest fights I had with my parents was when I wanted to go away to college. I thought my father was going to lock me in the basement.”
Nathan’s frown deepened and Shea held her hand up. “I know what you’re thinking. My parents weren’t assholes. To someone else they absolutely would sound like the worst parents ever. They were loving. We had a good childhood. Was it a normal childhood? Well, no, but they did the best they could.”
She looked down at her hands as sadness crept through her chest. “Grace and I never understood. We thought they were too overprotective until the day they were killed. Then we understood that everything they’d done over the years had been absolutely necessary. They died protecting us.”
He reached over to catch her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He waited a moment as though to allow her to gather her emotions and then he pressed on.
“Were your parents ever approached before? Did anyone show up at your house? Anything strange happen or do you ever remember them being afraid, more than usual, I mean?”
“We moved frequently. There was one time in particular, we’d only just moved into a new house in a new state. We’d been there maybe six months? My parents got a phone call and they were so agitated. They tried to hide it from me and Grace, but we could hear them arguing in their bedroom. My mom especially was a mess. She ordered me and Grace not to leave the house, even to go into the yard, and by that weekend, we’d packed and left.”
“You didn’t hear why?”
Shea shook her head. “The official story was that Dad got a better job somewhere else, but we knew that wasn’t true because they didn’t even act like they knew where we were going. Always before when we’d moved, Dad had gone ahead, found us a place and we moved from house to house. This time, we checked into hotels and we just ended up on the Oregon coast. I don’t think it was planned. I think they’d reached the end of their resources or maybe they thought they’d outrun whatever it was that spooked them.”
“How old were you then?”
“I was sixteen. Grace was seventeen. They told us that we had to change our names, at least on paper. They wanted us so used to using those new identities that they wouldn’t allow us to use our real names even in the house with each other.”