He strode into the bathroom and turned the faucet on, letting the water grow hot before dampening and then wringing out a washcloth. Ramie looked relieved when he reappeared from the bathroom as if she truly had believed he’d somehow disappear. He hated the fear in her eyes. Wished he could wipe it away like the blood he planned to wipe from her face. But he knew no matter how much reassurance he gave her that it would take time for her to trust him. And it had suddenly become all-important that she did trust him. Why? He wasn’t sure exactly.
It could be that he absolutely believed that all debts should be repaid, no matter the price. And Ramie had certainly suffered enormously because of his actions a year ago. There was no way to ever fully repay her, but he’d do anything he could to at least partially remove the burden of his and his family’s debt to her.
But that wasn’t his sole reason for being here, hundreds of miles from his family. Away from his sister who still so desperately needed his emotional support. Tori was still infinitely fragile, a shadow of her former self. Vibrant. Confident. Full of zest for life. That bastard had taken those qualities away from her and Caleb feared she’d never get them back. Caleb could kill him for that alone, never mind that two women had suffered at his hands.
As was the case in his search for Ramie, he wouldn’t give up until his sister’s kidnapper was found and brought to justice. Caleb would prefer to kill the bastard with his own hands. He’d feel no remorse whatsoever for doing so. But death was far too easy for him. Caleb wanted him to live in hell every day and for him to live a long life. Behind bars.
Caleb knelt once more in front of Ramie, who hadn’t moved so much as an inch during the time he was in the bathroom. Gently, he began to wipe away the crusted, dried blood, and he cursed softly when she visibly winced.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She shook her head in refusal. “It’s okay. You didn’t hurt me.”
He didn’t argue over the lie. He’d seen pain flicker in her eyes a brief moment. He just made sure he was gentler with her when he removed the last of the blood.
When he was finished, he leaned back and cupped her chin, tilting her bruised chin to the light so he could further inspect the damage.
“It’s not too bad,” he said. “If your jaw was broken there would be a lot more swelling. Still, you need to be careful and let me know if you continue to have pain so we can take you in for X-rays.”
Her cheeks flushed with color and she glanced away, embarrassment crowding her eyes.
“I can’t afford to have X-rays,” she said in a low voice. “I have no medical insurance and I haven’t worked since . . . since him. He took everything from me. My home, my job. Peace. I’ve not experienced a single day of well-being since I established an irrevocable link to him. He took . . . everything,” she whispered. “I was down to my last few dollars but I don’t even have that now. I had to leave my purse, my identification, everything when I ran from the hotel. And now I have nothing. Without ID I don’t exist. It’s as though he’s already gotten what he wants most. My death.”
Caleb’s mood blackened. He was seized with murderous rage. Not only for what was being done to her now—stalked, hunted like an animal and taunted with her own death—but also for what had been done to her before.
“You will not ever have to worry about money—or health insurance—again.”
He was surprised he could even get the words out through his tightly clenched teeth or that his rage wasn’t reflected in his statement.
She lifted startled eyes and then her cheeks turned a dull red. “I don’t need your charity, Caleb. You don’t owe me anything. I’ll make it. I always have.”
His temper spiked before he could control it. “You are not some kind of goddamn charity case. Do you even realize the prices you could command for what you do? That victims’ families would pay any amount to get back a lost loved one?”
Her eyes widened in horror. “I could never do that! What it would boil down to is blackmail. Hey, I’ll find your kid, wife, mother, loved one but, oh, by the way, my abilities don’t come cheap. Do you realize how . . . mercenary . . . that would make me? I couldn’t live with myself having money stained with violence and death. The mere idea is repulsive!”
“And so you suffer in silence. Alone. No one to comfort you while the victims are surrounded by family and loved ones. But who do you have, Ramie? Who picks up the pieces for you when you shatter and fall apart? I realize money isn’t a cure-all but it can damn well make living a little easier, and anything is better than you having to scrape by, going without, and being constantly on the run from some deranged lunatic who wants to break you down, piece by piece until there’s nothing left. No escape.”
She stared bleakly at him, telling him without words that he’d struck a chord within her, and he was kicking himself for being so blunt. His words had to hurt her. It brought back with startling clarity just how dire her situation was. And he saw something in her eyes that made him want to put his fist through the wall.
Defeat.
Her giving up and accepting the hopelessness of her situation. Damn it, but that had not been his intention. He simply wanted to let her know that she was no longer alone. No longer without someone to turn to. Defeat was simply the absence of hope and she needed that more now than ever before. He wanted to provide her a safe harbor.