Hidden Currents (18 page)

She touched her hair. “I always loved my hair. Mom said it was my best feature, my crowning glory.”

“Your eyes are your best feature.” He tipped his head to one side to study her. “Maybe your mouth. You have a killer mouth. Your smile can stop traffic. But I love your hair. All that fiery red reminds me what a little stick of dynamite you really are.”

“Not so much anymore.” She pulled on the sweatpants.

“You’re down, Elle, not out.” He shrugged into a shirt and picked up a blanket and two sweaters, indicating she precede him out of the bedroom.

Bomber pushed against Elle’s leg as if to guide her and she dropped her hand on his head, feeling reassured by the dog’s presence.

“I’ve got two more dogs coming,” Jackson announced as he pushed open the door, his hand over her head.

Elle frowned as she went under his arm to step outside. “Two more dogs? What do you mean?”

“Protection dogs. I’ve worked with them quite a bit. A friend of mine trains them. The two coming are very skilled and I’ve worked with them before. Lisset sells them, so I asked that when she was ready to let them go, to give me first opportunity.”

“Lisset?” She’d never heard him talk about another woman. Not once. She’d never heard a whisper of him dating, or seen him get a phone call from a woman. Jonas had never mentioned another woman.

Elle really looked at him. His broad shoulders, his flat abdomen and narrow hips. He had a very nice butt, which she’d noticed often.

“Stop it.”

She raised her eyebrow. “You’re pretty darned good-looking.”

“No, I’m not.” He caught her hand as she started toward the path leading to the beach. “Not down there. We’ll sit up here under the trees and watch the sun come up.”

“I thought we were going down to the beach.” She had missed walking on the beach with the cool sand on her toes and the wind coming off the ocean in her face.

“We can’t take a chance of getting sand in your wounds.”

“Yes, we can.” She tilted her chin at him. “I don’t mind a little sand.”

It was the first time she’d really acted like Elle. The green eyes deepened to a sparkling emerald challenge and Jackson felt his heart contract. “I’m sure you don’t mind, honey, and as soon as your sister Libby gets her butt over here and heals those open wounds, you can roll in sand if you want. In the meantime, we’ll just sit under the trees and look at the sea from up here.”

Her mouth tightened. “Jackson, it’s no big thing.”

He reached out with deceptive casualness, curled his fingers around the nape of her neck and drew him to her, one slow step at a time. “If you had been a smart girl, you would have stayed with your sisters. Then when you wanted to walk on the beach with open wounds, they would have argued with you and eventually given in because they want to give you anything right now. I do, too, Elle, but not at the risk of infection. You chose to be with me, and you have to suffer the consequences. I haven’t changed and I’m not going to change. We do what’s best for your health. If you want to be angry with me, and we both know you need to be angry with someone, then all right, I can live with that. And I’ve given you far more of an explanation than I’ve ever given anyone in my life.”

“Is that supposed to win you points?”

Again that faint, ghost of a smile came out of nowhere and his white teeth flashed briefly. “Maybe. I don’t much care about points. I don’t mind picking you up and carrying you to the trees either. So decide.”

“You’re such a white knight.” She pushed past him and headed along the worn path for the wind-blown cypress trees overlooking the ocean.

“I’m guessing that might have been sarcasm.” He placed the blanket on the ground just on the rise of the small slope leading to the dunes separating him from the sea.

Elle sank down onto the blanket, sighing heavily to show him she wasn’t as happy as she would have been walking on the beach. “You guessed right.”

Jackson dropped a sweater over her head, his hand gentle as he put her arms through the sleeves. She’d given in too easily. Elle Drake would have withered him on the spot for daring to dictate to her, even for her health, but at least she’d made a protest, token or not. “Libby can come tomorrow, maybe with Sarah or Hannah so you aren’t overwhelmed.”

Elle’s breath caught in her throat as alarm slammed through her. “No.” She shook her head. “Absolutely not. I don’t want them to know.”

“Baby,” he said softly, picking up her hand, his thumb making lazy circles inside her palm. “They already know.”

She caught his fingers and held tightly. “No, they don’t. They know as in, oh, poor Jackson, he was tortured. How terrible. And of course they feel genuinely terrible for you. They have tremendous compassion, but they don’t know what it’s like to be stripped of all dignity, all humanity, to feel like less than an animal, crawling naked and blind on the ground, a body to be used in any way someone else sees fit. Knowing you can be raped, brutalized, sodomized, beaten, starved, forced to commit any depraved act just for someone else’s entertainment. Unless you’ve been through it, you can’t
feel
it. It isn’t stamped into your soul so deep you’re branded for life.”

Jackson raked a hand through his hair and shifted, the knots in his gut hardening. He knew what she meant. The knowledge, the bitterness, the rage. He could taste it in his mouth and hear his own screams. Sweat beaded on his skin and he looked away from her.

“Don’t.” She hissed the command between clenched teeth. Her hand caught his face and forced him to turn his head back, to look at her. “If you know every single detail of what that man did to me, then don’t turn away from me because I know what they did to you. If you can see me and accept my degradation and pain, then don’t take it away from me that I share yours.”

He leaned down and brushed his lips across her mouth, jolting her. “Men think we protect women and handle it, that we should handle it.” When she continued to stare up at him he sighed and brushed a soft kiss over her mouth again. “All right. I’ve got it. I do, Elle.”

“Before, when you were captured and we were connected and I asked you to live, I knew what it meant, I knew what I was asking of you and what it meant to me. When you asked me to live, I expected that you knew what it would entail. I knew we’d be sharing the memories in our minds, that you’d know every detail of what happened to me at his hands, and I’d know every detail of what happened to you when you were captured. Does it bother you so much that I know?”

His gaze flicked over her face. Had there been a note of hurt in her voice? Was there a difference? He knew what Stavros had done to her, using her body, forcing her compliance, and even pleasure, and he knew she felt shame because of that. To him, it was all part of the humiliation and degradation process Stavros had used to beat her down. Of course he needed to know what Stavros had done, what she suffered, so he could help her. He wanted to help her. He had told her he wouldn’t leave her alone and he meant it. He’d known, from the moment he’d asked her to live for him, the extent of the commitment he was making—even more than she did. She would go through all the stages of recovery with him—what recovery she would manage—and anger would be a big part of that.

He was locked in her mind during every waking moment, something that’d be uncomfortable for a loner like him, but for the first time in his life, he hadn’t felt starkly alone. He was different. He’d been different from his earliest memory, and now, keeping his mind intertwined with Elle’s, something inside him was changing. He found himself growing more empathetic with her. He knew almost before she did what she was feeling. He felt as if his mind wrapped more and more into hers, binding them together in ways he hadn’t expected.

“Jackson?”

Her soft inquiry brought his gaze jumping to hers. “It’s happening to you, too, isn’t it? You see inside of me more and more, even into the dark places I try to shield you from.”

Elle nodded and leaned into him. “You don’t have to shield me, Jackson. I have a few dark places of my own.”

“Is it the legacy? Is this how it works? Binding us so tight we can’t exist one without the other?”

“I have no idea how it works, only that there is one.” Elle sounded bitter. “It didn’t save me, and it didn’t save you, Jackson. I don’t even know who Elle Drake is anymore.”

He wrapped his arm around her. “I know who Elle Drake is, and right now, one of us knowing is enough. We’ll take this one day at a time.”

“I’m going after him.”

He was silent, working through the protest. He wasn’t letting Elle anywhere near Stavros Gratsos, not now, not ever. He had plans to take the man out himself, but he needed distance. Time and distance. Memories were long and a sniper had a certain method recognizable to those around him. Even with Elle’s testimony, they had no proof that Stavros was involved with human trafficking. The most they could get him on would be kidnapping and rape charges, and chances were the man had enough money to get off. Everyone had seen the shipping magnate with Sheena MacKenzie. They were thought of as a couple.

“I am, Jackson. He isn’t going to get away with this. I’m going to start training and then I’m going to get him.”

“Let’s just take one day at a time, Elle. Living for revenge isn’t a very good way to go. I know. I’ve been there and it eats away at you until your humanity is gone.”

“He already took that from me.”

The dog shifted closer, and laid his head in Elle’s lap. She dropped her hand onto his head and stroked the fur. Jackson smiled. “There’s no way he could ever take that from you, baby. But we’ll train. And we’ll get stronger.” His arm tightened, drawing her closer beneath his shoulder. “I’m going to ask Libby to come.”

She jerked away, or tried to, but he held her firmly.

“Just listen to me. I’ve been thinking a lot about this. If you stay connected with me, between us we should be able to hold a barrier to prevent Libby from feeling the emotional ramifications of what happened to you. She’s seen your body, she knows intellectually already, so helping you heal will only make her feel better, not worse. Your sisters love you, Elle, and they have to help you. It’s in their natures, just as when Hannah was attacked. All of you needed to help her. If we stay connected and build the shield together, I know we’re stronger than anyone else. We just need to try it.”

Elle took a deep breath and looked out over the pounding sea. Always the same. Always different. The waves crashed against the rocks relentlessly, shooting white foam over the boulders, smoothing and polishing them even as the waves wore them down over centuries. She loved the sound of the sea, and the colors, the deep blues and greens depending on the mood. Right now the sun was climbing in the east, and along the horizon orange glowed just below the fog bank. The colors made the horizon appear striped where the sky and the sea met.

“Here with you I feel safe, Jackson, like I can hide from the world for just a little while. I know its not forever. I know I have to face my family, our friends, even my boss, but right now, sitting with you, I can feel safe. Is that so terrible to ask for just a little time before I have to see pity in their eyes? Knowledge? Before I have to really look at what happened to me, the how and why of it?”

He brushed the top of her head with a brief kiss. “No, of course not, Elle. I don’t mind having you all to myself.” But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true.

He might have wished to have her all to himself before, but now he knew better. Elle Drake was part of something huge. Magical. Something called family—something he’d never had and hadn’t thought he wanted.

Elle looked up at Jackson’s face, carved and set, his mouth firm. “You have trust issues.” She’d caught glimpses of his childhood, but his history was buried deep and he didn’t like looking at it. Unlike her. She loved her memories of her sisters. She rubbed her hand over the German Shepherd’s head, and then scratched his ears. “Do you think we can do it? Keep Libby from feeling, from really knowing what happened to me?”

“Yes. I think we’re strong enough together, Elle, but she’ll recognize whip cuts and she has to check you internally for damage.” His hand covered hers, his fingers in the dog’s fur alongside hers. “We need to know if you’re pregnant.”

Elle stiffened, refusing to look at him, staring out at the colors streaking the horizon over the ocean. The fog bank had darkened and was moving slowly toward them, casting purple stripes through the orange and dulling the colors. Fingers of white mist reached out over the choppy waves, throwing shadows over the beach below them.

“He might not know who I am, Jackson, but he’s real and he’s coming after me. I don’t want him to find my sisters.” She swallowed hard, fighting to keep her mouth from trembling. “I think his brother is even more violent—worse than he is—and Stavros didn’t want him alone with me. I think they’re both looking for someone psychic. If his brother finds out I’m gone, he could come looking as well. My sisters are all psychic and that would put all of them in danger.”

“Staying away from them isn’t going to save them, you know that. Everyone in the village knows there are seven of you. Anyone coming into town and asking questions is going to hear about your family. Joley is a superstar. Hannah was a supermodel. Just because she quit modeling doesn’t mean there aren’t a thousand articles about her. And Kate is a bestselling author. Your family is in the public eye.”

“But no one knows about our psychic abilities.”

“There has been more than one article written about Libby healing people. She was in the tabloids right along with Joley. If they come, Elle, they’ll find your sisters and I think we need to be prepared for that.”

“No one can prepare for him.”

“I disagree. It’s going to take him a while to find your identity, but he will. He’ll track down Sheena MacKenzie and hopefully buy your cover story all the way, that in the end, Interpol suspects you of being a very high-class thief. He’ll move on that and eventually figure out Sheena MacKenzie doesn’t really exist. He has enough money to buy off several people who might know your real identity.”