All Due Respect (10 page)

Surprise streaked through her. “No. No, Seth. You’ve got it all wrong. You were already at risk. I couldn’t put you in more danger.” The words spilled out before she thought to stop them.

Seth went statue still. “Are you saying you left New Orleans to protect me?”

“Yes.” Oh, God. She hadn’t meant to say it. How could she have blurted that out? How had she gotten into this tangle? Julia stiffened, determined to regain control of this situation. “No.”

“Well, excuse me, sugar, but that’s damn confusing.”

Icy rage blasted through her. “Do not call me ‘sugar.’ Ever. I hate it.”

Surprised by the vehemence in her voice as much as Seth, she squeezed her eyes shut, wishing a hole would magically appear beneath her chair and suck her down.

“I apologize.” Regret flitted across Seth’s face but anger still clipped his tone. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I know.” She nodded, embarrassed that she had come uncorked at such an innocent remark. “I shouldn’t have snapped. It’s just, well, that particular term”—even now she couldn’t make herself call it an endearment—“is a hot button for me.” She forced herself to look into his eyes. “I’m sorry, Seth.”

“It’s okay.” He set his glass aside. “But which is the truth? Yes, you left to protect me or, no, you didn’t?”

“Both are true.”

He silently stared.

She slumped in defeat. “I left to protect you, but mostly I left to protect me.”

“From whom?”

She pinched her lips together, gave him a negative nod. That question she couldn’t answer. Not without opening a Pandora’s box that had to stay sealed for both their sakes.

“Okay, then.” Seth rested his hands on the table. “When exactly did you realize you needed a cell phone for protection?”

She had to keep it together. She could do it. From the beginning, she figured one day she would get caught. True, as time passed and she hadn’t, the fear had subsided, but she had always known that the possibility still existed; “The day I left New Orleans.” Haunted by memories, she blinked hard and looked into Seth’s eyes. Her hell had started long

before then, but on that day, hell and horror had merged forces and descended on her.

Just thinking of it had her leaping from being on edge to raw-nerved. Too raw to sit there another moment. “Can we go outside?” She crossed her chest with her arms, rubbed her left one hard to fight off muscle spasms and chills. “I—I need fresh air.”

It wasn’t Antonio’s. It was the subject matter that had her gasping. Stressed, chilled, and gasping. Sweet heaven, she was going to have to tell Seth the truth.

Well, at least part of it. She wasn’t brave or strong enough to relive it all again. Could anyone be brave or strong enough to look into a past like hers without shutters? Willingly gaze into eyes filled only with pity?

She couldn’t imagine it. Yet, from the set of Seth’s jaw, and judging by his persistence, it appeared he intended to force her to do exactly that.

God, give her strength.

SETH paid the bill, then went outside to meet Julia.

She wasn’t in the nook just outside the door, or in Antonio’s garden. Bordered by tall-standing oaks and blossoming Christmas azaleas, the softly lit alcove’s white wicker rockers stood empty. Seth continued the search, but failed to find her. As a last resort, he checked the parking lot. She stood at the passenger’s door of his black Lexus.

Evidently, Dr. Warner had decided she didn’t want to talk after all. Seth hated putting her on the spot. Physically, Julia was a small woman. The top of her head hit him about mid-chest. But he tended to forget her diminutive size because the woman had presence. She walked into a room and it came to life. She spoke, people listened. She wasn’t frail or retiring or shy—or pushy. She just was, and those around her sensed that what she was mattered.

She got attention with her presence. She kept it with a subtle mystique that lured and then stopped a man in his tracks, before he got too close. By silent command, no one breached her privacy.

Seth had never known her to play games, to lie, or to keep secrets. At least, not until now. But now she thought she was protecting him.

That changed all the rules.

His entire life, he had been the one doing the protecting. He hadn’t always succeeded, but he had always been assigned the duty. Yet never, not once in his thirty-seven years, had he been protected. In his Special Forces work, yes. As much as he protected his team, they protected him. But personally? Seth, the man? Never.

Not until Julia.

Something hard went soft in his chest. Hell of it was, he still had no idea why or from what or whom she had been protecting him.

Determined to find out, he walked toward the Lexus. Julia bounced her backside softly against the car door, rubbing at her left arm and staring up into the night sky, as if seeking divine intervention or the devil’s reprieve. From the look on her face, she would welcome either, so long as it bailed her out.

Seth’s footsteps sounded on the concrete. She swerved a startled gaze at him.

“It’s me, Julia.” He sounded like a damn fool, but the fear on her face was real.

She relaxed and stepped away from the car. “I thought it would be better if we talked at my place. It’s more private. Is that okay?”

Considering he had about given up on their talking at all, anywhere was fine with him. “Sure.”

They retrieved her car from the office, then drove south of the base to her apartment. Light from the outside lamps glinted off the two-story white stucco building and spilled onto the patch of grass between the parking slots and her front door. The place looked as inviting by night as it had in full sun. He had driven the realtor crazy, looking at seventeen apartments before finding the right one, but this was for Julia. It had to be special.

And it was. A huge kitchen and living room with a stone

fireplace downstairs and two bedrooms upstairs, all decorated in soft pastels that suited her. Julia loved to cook, and the apartment’s gourmet kitchen had settled it. As soon as he’d seen it, he had known that this was the one.

Julia dropped her keys on the kitchen bar and her purse on the bar stool’s flowered seat pad. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Solemn. Serious. She dreaded what she was about to tell him. He couldn’t imagine why. They had always discussed anything and everything—except her marriage and his childhood. Both were topics she had never brought up, and both were facts Seth would rather forget. “Something cold would be good.”

She walked to the fridge. “Beer, cola, or juice?”

He’d had several glasses of wine. Any more alcohol and he would have to restrict himself from driving. Julia bent to retrieve the cola from the fridge. Her skirt hiked and hugged her hips. The idea of being stuck here had merit, but she wouldn’t appreciate it. “Cola.”

She passed the can and a glass filled with ice, poured herself some water, and then motioned to the living area. “Let’s sit down. This is going to … take a while.”

The tension in her was impossible to miss. He wanted to put her at ease, but if he did, then he’d never learn anything. A comfortable Julia was a reserved Julia.

He sat on the far end of the sofa and stared into the empty fireplace grate. It looked dark and cold, and outside it began to rain. At first, just light drops tapped against the window. But then the rain grew heavy, like feeder bands in hurricane squalls, beating against the glass, and Julia just sat, as silent and wary as a guilty defendant standing in the courtroom, awaiting a judge’s verdict.

HE’D hate her. Consider her a fool. A loser. There would be no more camaraderie, no more joint ventures, no more feeling connected. There would be no more respect.

She had to accept it, to expect it—now, before she saw it in Seth’s eyes and heard it in his voice. Before he

couldn’t bear to look at her, or showed only disgust.

Thunder crackled. Julia shot a glance at the window, saw the raindrops splatter against the pane and then run down the glass in snaky rivulets. How in heaven would she ever get through this?

One demon at a time. One challenge at a time.

One breath at a time.

Sitting at the other end of the sofa, she smoothed down her skirt. Whatever happened, she would not cry. Regardless of how bad it got, or how much it hurt, she would not cry. “First, I’m sorry I used your name without your permission. At the time, I didn’t know what else to do.”

She waited, but Seth didn’t say anything, so she went on. “Secondly, I want you to swear to me that you’ll never repeat to anyone what I’m about to tell you.”

He pursed his lips. “Will you believe me?”

The man had no idea what he was asking from her. No idea. “I’ll do my best.” She swallowed hard. “That’s all I can promise.”

“All right.” Seth set his glass down next to the can on the glass-topped coffee table. “I swear it.”

She closed her eyes, prayed for the right words, the right way to tell him this and not destroy herself in his eyes. “I didn’t plan to just up and leave my job, Seth. I told you I had no choice about the way I left, and I didn’t.” She forced herself to look at him. “You asked why I didn’t contact you. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, it was that I was incapable.”

“What do you mean, incapable?”

“The day I left, I went to Destin, Florida. I don’t want to discuss why, so please don’t ask. I got there, and stopped to pick up a few groceries.” Immediate shopping. God, how she hated it now. “When I came out of the store, it was twilight. I’ve always loved twilight. Nothing is as it seems then, and you can imagine that your life is exactly the way you want it.” She let her gaze drift back to the rain splotched window. “It was a perfect twilight. Balmy and warm, and the sea breeze felt so good. I let down the car

windows, cranked up the radio, and hummed along with Jewel. And I imagined that my life was perfect.”

“Julia.”

“Be patient, Seth. This is … hard.” Hard? Hard didn’t begin to describe it. Admitting to yourself that your husband had beaten and nearly killed you, had attacked you repeatedly during your marriage, that was hard. Admitting it to someone else, someone special—whether you wanted them to be special or not—that was hell.

So don’t tell him it was Karl, Julia. That’s what’s got you terrified. There’s no law that says you have to tell Seth who attacked you.

“I’m sorry,” Seth said. “I didn’t mean to push.”

“It’s okay. This just makes me … uncomfortable.” Another monumental understatement.

“I understand.”

He looked as if he really did. “Everything was fine until I stopped at a stop sign.” Memories flashed through her mind. Her chest went tight, and sharp pains streaked through her arm. She rubbed at it and shut out the images. One … breath at a time. One breath … at a time. One breath at a time.

“Julia?”

She darted her gaze to Seth. He stared at her arm.

She stopped rubbing it. “A man jerked me through the car window, Seth. He beat my head against the asphalt street. I kicked, begged, and pleaded with him to stop. I fought. God, how I fought. But I couldn’t stop him. I—I just couldn’t… stop him.”

She took a drink of water, pausing to collect herself, her hands shaking so hard she could barely hold on to the glass. “I woke up two days later in the hospital in Intensive Care. I’d had several surgeries. My arm, for one. When he pulled me through the window, he tore some tendons, did some muscle damage, and dislocated the joint at my shoulder. I have a pin in it now.” Images snapped in her mind. The hospital. Blinding pain so intense that drawing breath took a Herculean effort. And fear. Always fear. “They didn’t

know at first whether or not I had suffered brain damage.”

Seth’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Are you saying you had amnesia?”

“No.” She looked over at him. “My brain swelled— trauma induced by my head impacting the street. They had to bore a* hole in my skull to relieve pressure. When the swelling went down, I regained consciousness and I knew who I was.” And she had remembered the attack in full detail. Only, to her, it was not something that had already taken place, it was happening then. “I spent months in the hospital, and several more months in physical therapy with my arm. It was a … grueling experience.”

“I’m sure it was.” His expression remained deliberately passive. “Are you all right now?”

“A few headaches and occasional muscle spasms. Otherwise, I’m fine.” An even more monumental understatement. One of gross proportions, but warranted. Seth looked so worried.

He scanned her face closely. “Were you attacked because of your work?”

“No.” No pity in his voice, only deep concern. She could live with concern. It felt good. But she couldn’t admit any more about the attack itself than she already had. The tension was building. She couldn’t survive another all-night vigil so close on the heels of the last one. “Detective LeBrec arrested the attacker. I had to hide until the trial.”

“Protective custody?”

“More or less.” She swallowed hard and focused on the placket of Seth’s white shirt. As much as she wanted to see what was in his eyes now, she couldn’t look. Couldn’t risk it. “The man was convicted and imprisoned. He got five years.”

“You almost died, didn’t you, Julia?”

She had nearly died three times. Once at the scene, twice in the hospital. Tears threatened. She sank her teeth into her lower lip to fight against them falling and humiliating her to the core. “I had to testify.”

“Did you know the man?”

She pretended not to hear Seth. “After he was convicted, I just wanted a fresh start. A clean slate where I could begin a new life. Someplace serene and quiet.”

“Someplace safe.”

“Yes.” She looked at the iron grate, the empty fireplace that had never felt heat or the weight of logs. It seemed as empty and wasted as she had felt during her recovery. “Detective LeBrec brought me an atlas. I dragged my finger over a map and it landed on Grace.” She blinked hard and managed to lift her gaze to Seth’s chin. “It sounds ridiculous, but I needed something good to hold on to—”

“What better place to seek grace than Grace?” Seth dipped his chin to his chest. “I understand, Julia.”