Keep Me Safe (8 page)

“But don't you see?” she asked in a soft voice. “Protecting someone from evil
isn't
evil itself. It doesn't make you bad that you want to punish those who truly are a threat to your family. All I sensed from you was unwavering resolve and I didn't need to be in your head to see that. It's written all over your face and in your eyes. No one needs to have my gift—or rather curse—to determine how resolved you are.”

“But you said you could pick up violence. And my thoughts most assuredly
are
violent.”

She smiled, only the second smile he'd been gifted with and it took his breath away because he caught a glimpse of what the real Ramie must have been like before her curse took her down a path she couldn't return from.

“What I pick up on are people's true natures. While you may
entertain
violent thoughts—revenge, retribution, even murder—that isn't the true essence of who and what you are. I guess you could say my gift reveals the true heart of a person. Some people are inherently evil. Others are inherently good no matter if they deviate from their true nature in certain circumstances. But I have a way of seeing through a façade to the very soul of people and while our actions and words may speak differently, the soul is unchangeable. It remains constant. Some people are able to fight their true nature while others give in more readily to the darkness inside them. Even embrace it.”

Listening to her calmly explain away such an unbelievable gift as casually as someone might discuss the weather was mind-boggling to him. It wasn't as if he didn't believe or have faith in her gift. He just hadn't realized the true
extent
of her abilities. He'd ignorantly assumed that it was a simple black-and-white matter where she touched something belonging to the victim and was able to trace the path back to them. He'd never once considered that her capabilities went so much deeper and were so profound—almost
spiritual
in a sense. Because only God was supposed to know the true heart and soul of a person. Only God could judge intent.

Caleb could well understand now why she'd led such a solitary existence. A reclusive who didn't surround herself with people. How would she ever be able to protect herself from anyone? If people knew the extent of her gift she would be in constant danger. People would kill to silence the truth about themselves. It was no wonder what little he'd been able to discover about her was sketchy at best.

He'd once thought her selfish, back when he was frantically trying to locate her in order to save Tori. He'd deemed her selfish for purposely disappearing from the public eye and refusing to help others desperate to recover a loved one.

God, what an ass he'd been. Now that he
knew
what it cost her each time she traced a line back to the victim, he couldn't imagine why she'd done it for as long as she had.

But now that he was assured that his touch wasn't harmful to her, he carefully pulled her into his arms, watching for any sign that this wasn't something she wanted. But he met with no resistance. She melted into his embrace and even buried her face in his chest, her head tucked snugly under his chin.

Her breaths were coming in ragged spurts and her chest heaved against him. He yanked her back in a hurry, worried he'd caused her yet another anxiety attack, but what he saw filled him with more dismay than if she had been suffering one.

She was crying. Heaving, heart-wrenching, completely silent sobs. Tears rolled down her cheeks, leaving damp trails in their wake. It was as if the final barrier had come down and something so simple as him offering a comforting hug had completely unraveled her.

“I'm not even sure I'm sane anymore. I feel . . . ​broken,” she said around the tears that seemed to be streaming faster the more she spoke. “I'm not sure anyone can help me or if they even
should
. The person stalking me is a complete sociopath. He thinks nothing of killing anyone he feels is an obstacle to his end goal. Anyone I'm around is in danger. And I can't let your sister go through hell again. Not because of me.”

“Do you forget she escaped hell
because
of you?” he asked softly.

She went silent, allowing his question to go unanswered, but she could hardly refute his statement of truth.

“And what is his end goal, Ramie? You said that he would kill anyone posing an obstacle to it.” Even though Caleb had a very good idea, he wanted confirmation from Ramie. Even though he
knew
. And it was a stupid question.

“Me,” she whispered. “His end goal is me. And until he gets to me, countless other women will suffer horrifically
because
of me. How can I save myself knowing that other women have to die in order for me to stay out of his grasp? How can I live with that on my conscience? That he won't stop torturing and killing other innocent victims until he finally achieves his ultimate goal?
Me
.”

NINE

CALEB
stared at her in a mixture of
what the fuck
and absolute disbelief. “You can't possibly think that the deaths of his past victims and any future victims he tortures are your fault. You're not a stupid woman, Ramie. Even you have to recognize the idiocy of such an assumption.”

She looked angered by his statement. Her cheeks flushed with color and impatience flared in her eyes as though he simply wasn't getting the point. Oh, he got it all right. And it didn't make a goddamn bit of sense to him.

Her fingers curled into tight balls and she pressed one fist down on top of her thigh, repeating the motions as she spoke.

“Were he not so focused on me, and were I not so hard to pin down, then he wouldn't be so hungry for his next victim. The longer I keep him at bay, the more frustrated he'll become and he'll utilize substitutes for me. Because I'm the only woman who manages to evade him at every turn. Not because I'm smarter than he is or that I somehow am able to outwit him. I've just been
lucky
. But my luck won't hold out forever. And part of me wishes he
would
catch me because I know exactly what I'm dealing with and if I died I'd damn sure make sure he goes to hell with me.”

“That makes no goddamn
sense
,” he said, voicing his earlier thoughts. “I swear I want to shake you. That's the dumbest thing I have ever heard. You are not responsible for the decisions a maniac makes. You are not responsible for him torturing, degrading and ultimately killing his victims. Do you honestly think he would just quit after you? Hell, he'd think himself invincible if he managed to bring down the one woman who's proven to be his biggest challenge. And I'd be willing to lay odds that's why he's so obsessed with you. Because other victims are easy. They offer him no challenge. He enjoys the chase and the fact it
has
proven so difficult. It will only make him that much more egotistical if he
does
succeed in killing you. He's going to believe he's invincible. God of his own twisted universe. Because after you, how
could
he fail to bring down his next target? He's become obsessed with you because you're his Holy Grail.”

He knew he'd scored a point with his logic. Ramie frowned, her gaze thoughtful. Her hand went still, her fist pressing hard into her thigh. She chewed on her bottom lip and then let out a long sigh, closing her eyes as fatigue and stress marred her forehead.

“I guess I never imagined beyond him being able to capture me.”

She nodded slowly as she said the next, opening her eyes and fixing her gaze at some distant point beyond him.

“But no, you're right. I think he would only get worse, grow bolder and more confident once he managed to do away with me for good. I'm a thorn in his side. No one has ever come as close as I did to capturing him, or even figuring out who he is, and there seems to be no connection between his victims. No similarities, personality traits. Nothing. Just a thirst for torture and degradation that has his victims
wishing
for death.”

“Do you know his name?
Any
identifying information?”

She threw him an impatient look. “Don't you think if I knew how to find him that I would have already done so? I'd kill him myself and damn the consequences if it meant eradicating his presence on earth. I'd willingly spend the rest of my life in prison if it meant no more women had to suffer the torture he so loves to heap on his victims.”

He frowned. Not only at the utter conviction in her voice, but because he didn't understand.

“But you were so specific when you gave me the information on how to locate my sister even though he too slipped from our grasp. It was a case of misfortunate timing, because the police burst in when her kidnapper had left for a short period of time, and with so many police surrounding the house, he would have been alerted to their presence if he tried to return.”

“He's not like the others,” she said wearily. “I told you earlier that I think he may have psychic abilities of his own, but you probably think I'm crazy.”

Caleb held up a hand. “I don't think you're crazy at all. I believed in your abilities before I ever met you.” He hesitated before saying the rest, because his sister's own psychic ability was a very closely guarded secret within his family. But he also felt it would go a long way in helping Ramie trust him. If he first offered her
his
trust.

“Tori has psychic gifts. It's why I had no problem believing in yours. Though, even if I hadn't been a confirmed believer you've been one hundred percent accurate in all of the cases you've assisted on.”

Ramie's eyebrow shot upward. “Your sister is
psychic
?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. But let's go back to why you think the guy stalking you is psychic.”

Ramie rose from the bed as if she couldn't remain still a second longer. She mimicked his earlier actions, pacing back and forth, concentration marring her features.

“There's no other logical explanation.” She laughed a dry, brittle sound that in no way reflected amusement. “What you don't understand about my abilities—one of the many things you didn't or don't understand—is that my connection to the victim and their attacker doesn't go away immediately.”

Caleb felt himself pale as blood leached from his face. “What does that mean exactly?”

“It means that I maintain a connection to both killer and victim. Sometimes for hours. Sometimes for
days
. Or in the case of the man stalking me, the connection has never truly been severed.”

“Dear God,” he whispered, “so your torment goes long beyond what you initially experience. How in God's name do you survive it?”

She shrugged as though it was no big deal, but Caleb knew better. He knew how long it had taken Tori to regain a semblance of her old self and she was
still
dealing with the aftermath an entire year later. And Ramie didn't endure it once, like the victims she helped did. She went through it time and time again and now she was telling him that her link wasn't severed when she rid herself of whatever article she touched in order to pinpoint a victim's location?

It didn't bear thinking about. How the hell had she survived this long without having a complete breakdown? But by all appearances she'd done just that eighteen months ago. And then so close on the heels of that, Caleb had appeared, dragging her right back into the hell she was so desperately trying to escape.

And then he understood what she
wasn't
telling him or perhaps what he hadn't understood until now. His eyebrows lifted, registering his shock.

“You still have an established link to him.”

She closed her eyes and slowly nodded. “I should say
he
has the link since obviously I can't get a bead on his location. God only knows I've tried. But he's tapped into my mind somehow. It's why I think he's psychic or has some extrasensory abilities. How else can you explain his uncanny knack for tracking my every movement? And the dreams . . .”

She shook her head, her lips tightening as she went silent.

“What dreams?” he prompted.

“He's there in my dreams. But I don't think they're actual dreams. I think they're reality.
His
reality. It's his way of taunting me. Of never making it possible for me to forget, heal and move on. I wake up at night sweating and my pulse racing well over a hundred beats per minute. It's why I suffer frequent panic attacks. He's doing it to me. I'm
certain
.”

She grimaced as she checked for his reaction. Did she think he was going to discount her intuition? Or that he had doubts about her sanity? Neither was true. He believed her absolutely.

“He lives as a shadow in my mind. There, but not there. His presence isn't overwhelming all the time. Only when he locates a new victim and he wants me to see what he's doing to her. It's his way of gloating. Telling me that he's unstoppable and that I don't have the power to shut him down. He wants me to suffer. He's succeeded there,” she said in a painful tone that made Caleb want to weep for all she'd suffered—was still suffering.

That the bastard was continuing to hunt and kill, all the while hot on Ramie's trail. That he shared with her his victims' pain and suffering, knowing it would become Ramie's own. The more Caleb discovered about her abilities and the demented, twisted mind of the man stalking her, the more it sickened him. And the more it made him fear for her and his ability to fulfill his promise to keep her safe.

“How then did you know he was in your hotel room?” he asked curiously. “If you don't have a link to him but he has a link to you, wouldn't he be able to get near you undetected? Can't he control what you see about him?”