Keep Me Safe (30 page)

Caleb didn't waver or hesitate. He raised the gun, ignoring Dane's and Eliza's alarmed cries for him to stop. He put a bullet between the killer's eyes and watched without remorse as the man crumpled and folded.

Caleb stared for a long moment, tears burning his eyelids. He already mourned what had been lost. Ramie's trust. Her laughter. Her love. He'd never find those things again.

He dropped the gun and ran to where Ramie was tied. Her bound wrists were bearing the brunt of her weight. She was literally hanging by them. Her fingers were white and bloodless. He lifted her with one arm, to alleviate the strain. With the other hand, he tore savagely at the ropes and then Beau was there, slicing through the bonds. Ramie dropped into his arms and Beau finished cutting the ropes around her ankles.

Caleb cradled her body to his chest, rocking back and forth as tears slipped hotly down his cheeks. He pressed his lips to her hair, his arms wrapped around her as though he'd never allow a single hurt to get to her.

Dane squatted down in front of Caleb, his expression dim. “We've got a mess here, Caleb. That video was sent to the police. They're looking for you even now. There's three dead bodies at the safe house and now another here.”

“Tell me you wouldn't have shot him too,” Caleb ground out. He rocked Ramie harder, holding her head against his chest as he buried his face in her hair. “As long as he lived, Ramie would also be connected to him. I would always worry that he was using me to hurt her. I don't regret killing him. The only regret I have is that he didn't suffer more.”

“He's speaking the truth,” Eliza said grimly. “The only way to end this was with his death. That's the only way Ramie or Caleb could ever be free.”

“I thought you'd done it,” Beau said painfully. “I actually believed my brother had done this.”

Caleb slowly lifted red-rimmed eyes to Beau. “I
did
do this,” he whispered.

Beau shook his head. “No. No! You didn't. He did. You were merely the instrument of his choosing.”

Caleb ignored Beau's outburst and resumed his rhythmic rocking.

“Caleb, we need to get her to the hospital,” Eliza said gently. “She's lost a lot of blood and she finally passed out. Don't have done all this for nothing and let her die anyway.”

Panicked, Caleb pulled Ramie back, allowing her head to loll and tip backward. He pressed two fingers into her neck, relieved to find a weak pulse.

Dane rose and reached into his shoulder holster to retrieve one of his pistols. He wiped it completely clean with a handkerchief and then picked up the killer's hand and wrapped his fingers around the stock. He was certain to put one of the fingers on the trigger so a partial print would be found there. With his hand covering the killer's but not touching any part of the gun, Dane lowered the hand holding the gun to the floor.

“Too bad he drew his weapon,” Dane murmured. “Caleb had no choice but to shoot him.” Beau's mouth quirked, the corners drawing up in amusement.

“Yeah, that's a real shame.”

“Let's go, Caleb,” Eliza gently urged. “We have a lot of explaining to do before Ramie can come home.”

Caleb closed his eyes in grief because he knew Ramie would never come home to him. Who could blame her? Obviously somewhere in the deepest recesses of his soul he must be capable of the horrific or his mind wouldn't have been so easily controlled.

THIRTY-SEVEN

THE
steady beep of the heart monitor reassured Caleb that Ramie's heart still beat. In his darker moments, he'd feared that he had been too late and that she'd die of blood loss from all the knife wounds to her body. Cuts he'd inflicted. He still couldn't look at her without his stomach knotting viciously.

He'd been her constant shadow in the days following her rescue. She hadn't yet regained consciousness but the doctor had told Caleb that she had a lot of healing to do and it was best done while sleeping. It was the body's natural way of ensuring its recovery.

Only by the grace of God was Caleb not in jail at this very moment. The two lieutenants who'd witnessed Ramie's psychic abilities had gone to the D.A. and at least stalled any action until Ramie could herself be questioned about the incident.

Caleb stood by her bed, stroking his knuckle down the still-bruised skin of her face. He touched her loose curls, twining one around his finger and then letting go, it jiggling like a Slinky down the stairs.

He wasn't in any hurry for her to wake up because when she did, she'd look at him with the knowledge of his betrayal in her eyes. Until such time, he was content to stand here and watch over her while she slept so peacefully.

As it was, it happened when he wasn't the least bit prepared for it.

The fingers of her right and his left hand were laced together and rested on the bed next to her side. He was sitting in a chair next to the head of the bed and he'd leaned over, resting his cheek against the reassuring pitter-patter of her chest.

He'd drifted to sleep, into sweet forgetfulness, when he felt her stir and then stiffen. He lifted his head, expecting the worst and yet still gutted when fear chased the color from her face.

A panicked whimper slipped from trembling lips.

He stared at her a long moment and then simply backed away from the bed, his hands up where she could see them.

“I just wanted to make sure you were really okay,” he whispered, his heart breaking wide open. “I'll go now. Eliza or Dane will be in to take over.”

He lifted one tiny hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the palm.

“I love you, Ramie. I'll always love you.”

And then he turned and walked away, closing her door carefully behind him.

THIRTY-EIGHT

RAMIE
stared at the opposing wall of her hospital room and once again practiced making her mind go completely blank. She was getting more adept at the skill, which gave her hope that her future would be nothing like her past.

So much pain and devastation. Lives wrecked, ruined. It didn't make any sense to her why people like Charles Bloomberg were even born. The sole legacy he'd left behind was one of pain and misery, not only for her and Caleb, but for so many other victims.

She was overcome with sadness, the weight becoming heavier and heavier with each passing day. She was sliding helplessly into a void she might never get out of. She couldn't muster the energy to care.

Caleb hadn't been back to see her since the day she woke up and he'd kissed her goodbye. Even after she'd absolved him of the horrific charge he was facing with the police, he hadn't returned.

Warm, salty tears burned her eyelids and she sucked them back, taking several deep, steadying breaths so she didn't cry. Again. So far everyone who'd come to see her had been cried all over by her.

Especially Tori, Quinn and Beau Devereaux. She'd cried so hard that they'd instantly retreated, apologizing for traumatizing her.

She wearily closed her eyes, uncaring that all she did these days was sleep. The doctor had asked her if she was ready to go home and she'd merely shrugged. She didn't have a home so it didn't really matter if she stayed or went.

A soft knock sounded at her door. As with all her other visitors, they didn't wait for her to offer a summons. Eliza barged in a few seconds later, her eyes bright and cheerful, her sunny demeanor making Ramie want to hold her down and choke her with her own hair.

How could anyone be that friggin' happy? Especially when Ramie was so friggin' miserable.

She glowered darkly at Eliza, but Eliza didn't look like the happy, chipper Eliza Ramie had been subjected to for the last week. She'd lost count of the days she'd spent recovering in the hospital. Just as she'd lost count of the stitches they'd had to give her. She was a veritable Frankenstein's Monster these days.

“I need to talk to you, Ramie,” Eliza said firmly. “And since I know you can't go anywhere, I'm taking advantage of you being a captive audience.”

Ramie raised one eyebrow, wondering what had gotten up Eliza's behind.

“Can you not bring yourself to forgive Caleb? Or at the very least offer some understanding? I'd think you of all people would know what it felt like to be at the mercy of someone else and their bidding. For God's sake, Caleb killed him in cold blood . . . ​for you. So you'd never be linked to him or anyone else again.”

Ramie went utterly still, her pulse pounding like a freight train in her head.

“What?” she croaked. “What did you say?”

“He's dead!” Eliza snapped. Then her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “Oh shit, no one told you, did they? They were probably all tiptoeing around you and not wanting to take you back to a place so painful.”

“No one told me what?” Ramie asked impatiently.

“Charles Bloomberg is dead,” Eliza said quietly. “Caleb shot him. He knew that unless Charles died, you'd still have a connection to him. And likely so would Caleb.”

It was automatic for Ramie to seek out the mental pathway that she'd lived with for over a year. Something she'd avoided ever since she'd been rescued, but now she opened her mind, seeking the very evil responsible for putting her here. She felt . . . ​nothing. Just a blank void as if he'd never existed. He truly was dead!

Ramie closed her eyes as sweet relief billowed over her body. This time her tears were ones of relief. Staggering, overwhelming relief.

She was free.

Caleb was free.

“I'm free,” Ramie whispered.

“Yes, hon, you're free,” Eliza said, patting her hand. “Now about Caleb.”

“Where is he?” Ramie demanded. “I need to see him here right now.”

Eliza's expression became somber, sadness glittering in her eyes. “He's gone.”

Ramie couldn't help the stab of pain that speared her heart. He'd just left her?

“Why?” she croaked out.

Eliza's eyes dimmed with sympathy and she moved to sit on the bed next to Ramie, taking her hand and squeezing.

“He didn't think you wanted him here or to see him,” she said gently. “After what happened . . . ​He thinks you blame him for what he did. He's not in good shape, Ramie. He's gutted by what he was forced to do to you.”

“Do you know where he went?” Ramie asked desperately. “I have to find him. Make him understand. I don't hate him. I love him.”

“I was hoping you'd say that,” Eliza said with a smile.

“Where is he?” Ramie asked in frustration. “And when can I get out of this place?”

“Whoa, you aren't going anywhere for a couple more days. You nearly died. Caleb will wait and he likely needs time to sort out his own feelings of guilt.”

Ramie closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I did this to him,” she said painfully. “I was afraid of him when I first woke up. I didn't understand everything. It was all too muddled and all I could remember was him c-cutting me,” she choked out. “And I was trying to protect him. I didn't know the killer was dead. And I guess I was trying to protect myself because I didn't know if he still had a link to Caleb and could compel Caleb to do his bidding. I should have trusted him more.”

Eliza leaned over and gently hugged Ramie, mindful of her injuries.

“Your reaction was perfectly justified. But now that you know everything you can make things right with Caleb.
After
you're discharged from the hospital,” she said firmly.

THIRTY-NINE

THEY
kept Ramie in the hospital another frustratingly long week before they finally released her with strict instructions to take it easy and not to overtax herself. She had no intention of heeding their instructions.

Surprisingly it wasn't Dane or Eliza who collected her from the hospital. Beau, Quinn
and
Tori all showed up and drove her to a house they were renting in the Woodlands. As soon as she got inside the house she shrugged off their demands that she go immediately to bed and faced them, having no intention of backing down until she got the information she wanted from them.

“Where is he?” she demanded.

“I don't know if it's a good idea for you to know,” Beau hedged. “He'd have our asses if you went after him. He's not in a good place right now.”

“I don't blame him for what happened,” Ramie said softly. “I
love
him and I can't make things right with him if I don't know where he is.”

Beau and Quinn exchanged uneasy glances but it was Tori who spoke up.

“He's in Colorado. At the cabin where he first found you. He's like a wounded bear. I think you're exactly what he needs.”

“Damn it, Tori,” Beau growled. “The very last thing she needs is to make that trip in her condition. Caleb will come around. We just have to be patient.”

“I don't have to be anything,” Ramie argued. “I have no home. Nowhere to go. Caleb is the only home I have if he still wants me.”

Quinn looked at her in shock. “Surely you don't think we're going to put you out on the streets. Ramie, you're free to stay with us as long as you need.”

She shook her head. “I appreciate what you—all of you—have done for me and I'm sorry for all the turmoil I've put your family through. If I could go back and undo it all I would. I would have never called Caleb for help if I'd had any idea the consequences of my request.”

“Bullshit,” Beau swore. “You aren't responsible for that bastard's actions. You did exactly what you should have done and came to Caleb for help. I once told you that we all owed you an apology, an apology you never got. But I'm offering mine now. We owe you far more than you will ever owe us. You saved our sister at great cost to yourself.”

“I owe you an apology too,” Tori said in a stricken voice. “I was awful to you, Ramie.”