If Maxim had given me even the smallest window of opportunity, I would’ve cut off his dick and choked him with it.
Instead, he’d used drugs to incapacitate me. I knew he’d raped me, but not because I remembered it. He was too much of a coward to do it while I was lucid. Perhaps afraid of what he might see in my eyes if he had. Instead, I knew because of the examination I’d had to endure when I first arrived at the hospital. Thank God I was still half out of it then.
I hadn’t been able to look at Ranger earlier. I wasn’t sure I could now. I couldn’t look at Grandpa Al either. I knew he’d be blaming himself. The pain of not protecting me would chew him up. He’d cry, and I couldn’t handle that.
My grandmother was shaky, but that was nerves. She needed a glass of sherry to calm herself. After two, she’d be as fighting mad as I was. Better able to channel all her worry into something that looked more like revenge.
But that wouldn’t be good either. What was the expression? Revenge is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die. No, not revenge.
“Maisie?”
I couldn’t look at her face.
I closed my eyes when she cupped my cheek. “Yeah, Grandma?”
“I love you so.”
Not the words I expected, which meant I wasn’t prepared for them. Instead of being able to keep my anger close, like a shield, her love for me shattered it. I could feel a sob welling deep in my chest, fighting its way out of my body. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t swallow it back down. It came tearing out of me like a gale—a howl more than a wail—and yet, almost silent. My body closed in on itself as the pain poured out of me. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and held as tight as I could.
Grandma Mary tried to embrace me, surround me in her arms, but they weren’t long enough.
My grandfather came around the other side, and between the two of them, they formed a cocoon of protective insulation. Except the pain was coming from the inside. They weren’t keeping it away; they were holding it in.
“No,” I pleaded, wriggling out of their embrace.
“Maisie?”
I opened my eyes and saw Ranger standing in front of me. I couldn’t read his expression, but I knew it wasn’t pity. My grandmother moved out of his way when he took a step toward the gurney.
“Leave us,” I heard him plead as he gathered me in his arms. We lay on the small space, my back to his front so the pain had a way to get out. Out of me, but not into him.
I could feel his power, his strength. He wasn’t weak from his inability to keep me safe. I didn’t feel him punishing himself. I felt him protecting me.
24
RANGER
I knew the moment Maisie let me in. I felt it in the way her body melded into mine. Part of me feared it wouldn’t happen, but as soon as I witnessed her suffering, I knew I was the only person who could be strong in the way she needed me to be.
No doubt. No questions. No judgment. No pressure. Just strength. Wherever and however she needed it. Maisie was mine and I was hers. Nothing could ever change that. Nothing.
I smoothed her hair back, sweaty from expelling the pain from her body. It wasn’t all gone. It never would be. The memories of the last several hours would be ingrained in her until the day she died. Her life had changed. From now on, it would be divided into two halves. It would be her decision—and mine—how those halves were defined. Before the abduction and after? Or before we fell in love and after we committed our lives to each other? More than lives, my soul belonged to Maisie, and hers belonged to me. Nothing would ever change that. I wouldn’t let it.
I’d witnessed inconceivable suffering in the course of my career. I’d seen men die in unimaginably horrific ways. I’d also seen them live to overcome what hadn’t killed them.
Maisie was alive. That’s all that mattered. She would overcome what hadn’t killed her, and I’d be by her side for every step she took. If she fell, I’d pick her up. If she quit, I’d help her start again the next day.
I kissed her temple and said the only words that mattered. “I love you, Maisie Ann Messick.”
Her response was so quiet, I had to hold my breath to hear it. “I love you too.”
I had no delusions that the days, weeks, months, even years ahead of us would be easy. We’d still walk into every sunrise with the hope each new day brought.
Maisie turned in my arms and buried her face in my chest. Her fingernails dug into my skin through the fabric of my shirt. I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her body closer to mine. “I love you,” I repeated.
She didn’t respond this time, but I didn’t need to hear the words. I knew she loved me too.
I opened my eyes when I heard a man clear his throat.
“We’re going to admit your wife overnight,” said the doctor I recognized from earlier. “At least until we have the toxicology report back and know what’s in her system.”
“Understood.” I waited for him to make a comment about me being on the gurney with her, but he didn’t.
“Someone will be in shortly to take her up to a room.”
“Thank you.”
I glanced at the clock, grateful I didn’t need to meet with the psychologist for another four hours.
My cell vibrated, but I didn’t take it out of my pocket. Instead, I reached in and flipped the switch that would prevent it from doing it again. There wasn’t anything more important than being with Maisie. Whatever else was happening in the world, someone else could handle.
“Ranger?” A sweet, soft voice woke me. I opened my eyes and looked into Maisie’s.
“Hi, beautiful.”
“I need to use the restroom.”
“Of course.” I eased my body from hers and got off the gurney to help her up. She was wobbly on her feet, probably from the effects of the drugs Edwards had injected into her system.
As I waited for her to come out, I thought about the people I’d been forced to kill during my time with the CIA and after. Most were nameless and faceless. They stood between me and the person I was there to extract. If I hadn’t killed them first, they would’ve taken my life along with as many of my teammates as they could.
I’d asked for Edwards to be kept alive because we needed information from him. Otherwise, I would’ve been happy to see a bullet between his eyes. Except in this case, it wasn’t kill or be killed.
Maisie came out of the bathroom, and I helped her back to the gurney. She’d just lain down when someone arrived with a wheelchair to take her to a room. I took a step back so the man could help her into the chair and get the IV pole positioned.
“Ranger?”
“Right here.”
“Are you coming with me?”
I stepped around so I was next to her. “Always.”
When we got on the elevator, I held her hand, and when we got to the room, I didn’t take a step back. I was the one to help her into bed. Once she was settled, I crawled in next to her and wrapped my arm around her waist. She turned so her back was to me, but I didn’t mind.
“I was afraid,” she whispered.
I wanted her to say more, but I didn’t push. “I was too.”