Keep Me Safe

by Maya Banks

  pleading in his expression. A request for understanding. He was torn between two loyalties, one to his family and one he’d imposed on himself when he vowed to protect Ramie.

  “My family is your family, warts and all. They aren’t heartless people. We’re all still reeling from Tori’s abduction. And I’m still appalled by what I forced on you. They just need time, and while it isn’t fair to you because you’ve done nothing to earn their censure, time will change their points of view. Right now my brothers are lashing out and guilt-riddled because they think they failed Tori. You aren’t an acceptable outlet for their anger or mine. I’m precariously close to begging you for the chance to back up my words.”

  Her heart clenched painfully, her breaths suddenly rapid. Her pulse sped up as she stared into the intense blue gaze stroking over her skin like the softest paintbrush. Stroke after stroke, striving for perfection.

  “And let me make one more thing clear,” he continued, not waiting for or perhaps not wanting to hear her response. “I don’t want you tracking him. It puts you at too much risk and I don’t want to lose you.”

  She reached up to hush him with a finger. She let the tip rest on his lips and then traced a line around the edges.

  “No matter what it may feel like, he can’t reach me. Not telepathically. I just have to remind myself of that when panic overwhelms me. He’s using the link between him and me to frighten and intimidate me. He wants me to slip up and make a fatal mistake. And I won’t allow that to happen. It’s taken me long enough to make sense of it all and actually think instead of reacting blindly, but if he could somehow harm me physically, he would have already done so. I’ve unwittingly aided him in his pursuit of me by my rash and frantic actions.”

  Caleb didn’t look at all happy with her firm resolve. For once she sounded convincing, a halfway intelligent woman, instead of coming across as the hot mess she was. He dragged a hand through his short-clipped hair in agitation.

  Before he could argue, she slid her fingers into his and squeezed, for the first time offering him the comfort she’d been provided time and time again. She marveled at the fact she could touch him when she was unable to touch anyone else without enduring unspeakable pain. She had to be strong and grow a spine instead of being a pathetic excuse for DNA. For whatever reason, God had given her a special . . . gift? She wouldn’t go that far, but she’d been given this ability and it was time to use it to her advantage.

  “He said too late when earlier today Dane made the comment, a few more minutes won’t make a difference if he’s already moved on to his next victim.”

  Caleb’s eyes widened in shock and then they darkened as he glanced between Dane and Eliza.

  “He’s already found his next victim,” Ramie said softly. “Or at least he’s actively acquired a new target. I suspect he’s out there right now, stalking an unsuspecting woman; perhaps he’s already put his plan into motion. If he holds true to his pattern then he’ll call it in. He’ll want me to know. And he’s going to continue to punish me by accumulating victim after victim until I finally break.”

  Caleb shook his head, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

  “You won’t break,” he said with conviction. “That’s where he’s mistaken and hopefully that’s where he’ll make his mistake by coming after you.”

  A halfhearted smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

  “I wish I was as confident as you are about me not breaking.”

  “I won’t let you break,” he said softly, his hand clenching around hers with a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll never have to worry that no one loves you. You’ll never be alone again if I have anything to say about it.”

  The utter conviction in his tone, the love, warmth and worry in his eyes gave her a surge of confidence.

  He fused his mouth to hers, utterly ignoring the other occupants of the room. It was exquisitely tender. So very precious and sweet as though she were utterly treasured. She sighed into his mouth and he swallowed her breath before she took it back. A discreet cough sounded and Caleb stiffened. He turned and slashed a withering stare in the artist’s direction.

  “You can leave now,” Caleb said tersely. “If the sketch is done, Dane will show you out. We’ll handle the rest.”

  The artist rose as if he couldn’t wait to be out of Caleb’s house. He shoved his sketchpad and pencils into his bag and then hurried for the door, not waiting for Dane to lead the way.

  Caleb turned his attention back to her. He slid his thumb over her cheekbone, his touch warm, a balm to her frayed nerves.

  “He’ll call it in like he did the last one,” Ramie said. “This time we’re expecting it so our reaction time should be faster. Maybe that will give us an advantage in locating him before it’s too late.”

  Caleb swore and her hand fell away from his as he paced the living room floor between her and where Eliza sat.

  “He can’t touch her here,” Eliza said. “Here is the very best place for her to be if she’s going to trace a link back to the killer.” She hesitated a moment and then rested her gaze on Ramie. “I’ve been doing some research on psychic abilities. Most of it hypothesized, mind you, since there aren’t any documented cases of mental telepathy or pathos, but one researcher theorized that it was possible for someone who taps into the mind of another to then establish a more permanent link. Which is, as I think you’ll both agree, precisely what our killer has done with Ramie.”

  “What are you getting at?” Caleb asked.

  Ramie remained silent, mulling over Eliza’s words. She had a good idea where the other woman was going with this and it infuriated her that she herself had never thought of the possibility before. But to analyze her abilities meant embracing them in some small measure, and Ramie had never even come close to acceptance. She’d spent her life fighting the very demons that may well save her now.

  “I’m suggesting that since he and Ramie share a mental pathway and that he’s able to project inside her mind to glean information . . . that she can do the same to him.” Eliza watched Caleb closely, no doubt concerned about his reaction. But instead of a volatile outburst, he turned, looking inquisitively at Ramie.

  “Can you do that?” he asked, skepticism written all over his face.

  “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I’ve never tried. I’ve never wanted to try. I’m able to establish a mental pathway to the victim by touching something that belonged to her so it stands to reason that I’d be able to tap into him doing the same.”

  Caleb blew out his breath and shook his head. “And that’s the catch. You can’t very well track him when you have nothing he’s touched.”

  “Not so fast,” Eliza murmured.

  Caleb’s head shot up and his brow wrinkled as he stared back at Eliza.

  Eliza fiddled with a pencil the artist had left and then she slid the drawing closer to her, studying it intently.

  “I don’t know how it would affect her,” Eliza said after a moment’s hesitation. “It’s not like we have case histories or actual research to back us up. The conversations and speculation center on a what-if scenario and pose the question what if a person had a specific psychic gift, which of course we all know to be factual even in the absence of actual proof. But what if she visited the crime scene? If he keeps the same MO then he will have left an item belonging to the victim at the scene of the crime, his invitation or perhaps challenge to Ramie to come after him. Which also means he was there and touched something in the vicinity. No one can be that careful not to leave a single trace behind. And Ramie doesn’t need a tangible object. She’s able to collect information when she touches someone or touches something another person came in contact with.”

  “No way will I risk Ramie by taking her somewhere the killer is likely close by,” Caleb said, shaking his head vehemently. “Not only that but if she has a link to both killer and victim, think what that would do to her! She’d suffer everything the victim is subjected to but then she woul
d also experience torture, pain and death through the killer’s eyes and it would be as if she murdered the victim herself. We can’t put that kind of burden on her. It may well push her over the edge.”

  How calmly they discussed her sanity, or rather the lack of. She knew Caleb had her best interests—her absolute protection—at heart, but she also knew that this could very well be their only real shot to take a monster down.

  Instead of fear, anticipation—a sense of excitement—coursed through her veins.

  Her voice, when she spoke, was strong and convincing, a spark for the first time she could remember in forever. She was suddenly imbued by hope that she’d refused to allow herself to even consider until now.

  “Caleb, it could work.”

  Caleb jerked his head around in obvious surprise. She winced at just how shocked he was that she would entertain anything but avoidance or running away. An art she’d perfected over the last year and a half. It was a testament to just how much of a coward she was that he now stared at her in disbelief.

  “No,” he finally said. “Don’t even think about it, Ramie. There are a million things that could go wrong in a scenario like this. I won’t chance it. I won’t risk your life or trade it for another.”

  “It’s a good idea and you know it,” she argued. “If it were anyone else but me, if your security firm had been hired to protect someone like me, you wouldn’t hesitate because you’d know that you were providing top-notch protection. Ever hear the saying that the best defense is a good offense? It’s time for me to stop running and start hunting him like he’s hunted me all these months. He’d hardly expect it. He’s certainly become well acquainted with my MO. As long as he sticks to his, we have the upper hand.”

  “This is insane,” Caleb bit out.

  “I think it’s better that we don’t bring up my mental status or lack thereof,” she said dryly.

  Caleb winced, apology reflected in his expression.

  “She wouldn’t be alone or unguarded,” Dane interjected from the doorway to the living room. He walked toward where the others were seated and stood next to Caleb, his stare gauging Caleb’s temperament. “The killer would be a fool to return to the crime scene. Besides that, he’ll have no way of knowing that she’ll be there.”

  Caleb shook his head, his eyes shooting sparks. “The hell he won’t know. If he has an open line into Ramie’s mind and can see her surroundings then he’ll know exactly where she is and what she’s doing. We may as well paint a bull’s-eye on her forehead and tie her to a tree.”

  “And that’s where we come in,” Eliza said in a calm, placating voice. “We put our best team on this. Make sure we have all the bases covered. She goes in, sees if she can pick up on anything and then we get out and hope we nail the bastard before he murders another innocent woman.”

  “I agree,” Ramie said firmly.

  She rose from her perch on the couch but went still when she swayed precariously. She let out a frustrated curse because everything had shifted around her the moment she stood. The effects of the medication Dane had given her hadn’t been pronounced until now. She was light-headed and the jackhammer in her head had subsided to a dull ache at the base of her skull.

  “Are you okay?” Caleb asked anxiously.

  “I’m fine, Caleb,” she confirmed. “I think the medication is kicking in, that’s all.”

  Caleb’s expression was worried and grim. “I think you should go lie down for a while. God knows you’re going to need all the rest you can get if we’re even considering this fucked-up plan to let you go after a monster.”

  She locked gazes with him and then she closed the distance separating them, taking the few steps to where Caleb had ended his last pacing session. She laced her fingers through his and squeezed in an effort to give him some reassurance.

  Tension radiated from him in waves. His mind was a jumbled mass of chaotic thoughts and fears. She could feel how terrified he was that something would go wrong and that she would pay the ultimate price.

  “I have to do this, Caleb, and you know it. I don’t relish the idea of immersing myself in a myriad of fear, pain, blood and violence, but if I don’t stop him, who will? Police always say eventually he’ll mess up and make a mistake but this guy hasn’t and won’t make that mistake. He’s too good. He’s the most dangerous sort of killer. Cold, calculating, patient and methodical in everything he does. If it takes the next five years, or even ten, he’ll wait for the time when I screw up and make a mistake or let my guard down. And I don’t want to live the next five to ten years constantly looking over my shoulder and allowing fear to control me. I’m ashamed it took me this long to come to this conclusion. A lot of women had to die to get me to this point but that’s something I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life. Taking him down for good will go a long way in easing some of the burden I bear.”

  Caleb’s expression softened, his eyes losing some of the harsh glint. “Baby, you can’t save them all.”

  He smoothed her hair back, framing her face in his hands. His eyes were such a rich shade of blue that it felt as though she were drowning in an ocean. They were warm with love but there was also a trace of fear. For her. That he would lose her.

  “I’m afraid of losing you too,” she whispered. “Don’t you see? You worry about me and what happens if I fall back into his hands, but I worry that you or Tori or one of your brothers and even Dane and Eliza will pay the ultimate price for offering me protection. He’s ruthless and unfeeling. Murder and death amuse him. He’s convinced of his superiority and that’s why I’ve become an obsession with him. Because he didn’t best me, and I got too close to him. He considers that the ultimate insult.”

  “Unbelievable,” Eliza said, incredulity in her voice. “You pegged him. You were word for word what his FBI profile came back with.”

  “We need to get this sketch to the police and media,” Dane said. “The sooner we’re able to warn the public and heighten awareness of the fact a serial killer has taken up temporary residence in the Houston metropolitan area the sooner we can bring him to justice. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’s taken down before he chooses his next victim.”

  “Get on it then,” Caleb said. “I’m taking Ramie up so she can rest until her headache is better.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  “IS this where I say sorry, honey, I’ve got a headache?” Ramie asked in a drowsy tone.

  She yawned widely, her jaw popping with her effort before settling her cheek back onto Caleb’s bare chest, nuzzling sleepily into his arms. He laughed softly, his hand roaming up and down the slender arch of her body.

  Her skin was baby soft, like the finest silk. He was thoroughly enjoying the simple pleasure of touching her, of having her in his arms and in his bed. He turned his head just enough that his lips pressed against the hairline of her forehead.

  “I’ll let you get away with it. This time,” he said in amusement.

  It suddenly struck him that for the space of a few stolen moments all was quiet. Peaceful. No intrusions from the outside world. Intimacy surrounded them, enfolding them both in its gentle embrace.

  “How is the head?” he asked as he trailed his fingers through the curls spilling over her shoulder. “Better yet?”

  She yawned again and nodded, her cheek rubbing up and down his chest.

  He liked her here in his arms all warm and sweet and contented. This was where she belonged whether she readily acknowledged it or not. He could be a patient man when the reward was worth it, and Ramie’s heart and trust were absolutely worth any amount of patience he was forced to exert in his quest to seal their newly formed relationship.

  “Are you sure you want to do this, Ramie?” he asked in a quiet tone.

  She went absolutely still next to him. Not even a breath escaped her. He resumed his idle caress up and down her body in an effort to ease the sudden tension.

  “Yes. No . . .” she trailed off and then expelled a long breath. “Yes, damn it. Well
, that isn’t exactly true. I’m not a complete idiot. I don’t want to do it but I have no choice. I have to do it and there’s the difference.”

  “You’re a courageous, selfless woman,” he said. And he meant every word.

  She made a sound of disgust. “What’s with calling me brave all of a sudden? Eliza said the same ridiculous thing earlier. Do I look like someone who is fearless? I’m terrified,” she said, her voice rising an octave.

  He attempted to soothe her agitation by stroking her with his hand, allowing it to glide over her slight curves, but she was already worked up over his words.

  “There is nothing brave or courageous or even special about me,” she said bluntly.

  Her words weren’t spoken with emotion in an obvious effort to get him to argue his point. It was a matter-of-fact statement, one that she truly believed of herself. He only wished she saw what he saw.

  It wasn’t desire, lust or even love that made him view her through rose-colored glasses. Regardless of their relationship or his feelings for her, nothing about her actions contradicted his assessment of her character.

  “I’ve lived my entire life lonely and afraid,” she said, pain evident in her voice. “Running. Hiding. From who I am and what I am. I’m done with that life, Caleb. And before you argue whether I should take this on or not, you need to consider that you’re the reason I no longer want to be that frightened, weak shell of a woman I’ve been for so long. You’re the reason I want . . . better. You deserve better than that. I deserve better. Whatever we have, wherever this is going between us doesn’t have a chance in hell if I can’t regain control over my own life. As nice as it sounds that you’ll protect me and take care of me, how long do you think it would take before you realize that you got a shitty deal? And that we are in no way equals in a relationship but rather I’m a codependent leech sucking the life right out of you? You can’t possibly think you’d be happy with a woman like I just described. You’re too strong for that. Your personality is too strong for you to have a much weaker partner. You may as well be a parental figure for all the dependence I’ve demonstrated.”

  There was so much disgust and self-loathing aimed at herself that he flinched under the force and vehemence of her words. She simmered with rage, her entire body shaking. The hand that rested on his chest had curled into a tight, white-knuckled fist.

  As much as he wanted to do exactly those things she described, he realized that it was grossly unfair to her. And it certainly didn’t do justice to her intelligence or determination. It was his nature to charge in, take control and put her in a box where he knew she’d be safe. But it was no way for her to live. He was starting to understand her frustration, that she was reaching her boiling point. Maybe she was already there.

  His protective instincts were strong. Not only when it came to Ramie but when it came to his family as well. The idea of sitting back and loosening his tight hold on either of them went against who and what he was. But if he didn’t learn to do just that, he would very likely lose Ramie.

  Maybe not right away but eventually she’d tire of his authority and control.

  “I understand,” he murmured. “I get it, Ramie. I do. But we’re going to just have to agree to disagree when it comes to your supposition that you aren’t strong or courageous. This is one area I refuse to back down over. I don’t know of anyone, man, woman or child, who could so stoically endure all you have for the last decade.”

  She lifted her head, raw emotion swirling in her smoky, storm-colored eyes.

  “But that’s just it, Caleb. I haven’t stoically endured. God, I wish I had or that I could. The problem is I feel too much. I absorb too much. It’s wrecked me more times than I can count. And just when I finally reach a point where I think things will return to some semblance of normalcy again I’m pulled right back into a world of pain and death and misery.”

  His hand threaded through her hair, and he stroked her scalp through the tresses in an effort to soothe her.

  “Shhh, I understand, baby. Stop beating yourself up. It does no one any good. I’d rather talk about the fact that you just admitted that I was the reason you want more—better,” he amended.

  “I do. You are,” she whispered. “But I’m afraid to dream. I never have good dreams, Caleb. Only bad. Just once I want something good and wonderful.”

  He wrapped his arm around her waist and then rolled her underneath him. His lips met hers in a heated rush, his tongue sliding over hers and tasting.

  As he lifted his head, their lips parting, their gazes locked and held.

  “I’ll give you good dreams, Ramie. And I’ll hold you during the bad. And we’ll dream the good together.”

  Her gaze was intent, seeking and searching, testing the veracity of his vow.

  And then her eyes softened, some of the darkness chased away, sunlight replacing summer storm clouds.

  “Dream the good,” she murmured. “I like that.”

  His head lowered to take possession of her mouth. Even as he kissed her, his hand slid underneath her shirt, his palm splayed over her belly and then slid upward to cup one breast. He brushed his thumb over her nipple, coaxing it to a rigid peak.

  Gently he divested her of the rest of her clothing and then did the same to himself before covering her body with his own.

  “Tonight I want you to only dream of me,” he murmured between kisses. “And for you to go to sleep feeling loved and protected. Because I do love you and I will protect you, baby.”

  She arched her body into his, craving his warmth and touch. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and returned his kiss, deepening it and responding passionately.

  “I need you so much, Caleb,” she whispered, yearning evident in her voice.

  “I need you every bit as much. I need you to believe that, Ramie. If you believe nothing else.”

  “I do,” she said, her voice aching with emotion. “Make love to me. Show me what you feel for me.”

  His kisses grew more heated, more urgent as his big body moved over hers, parting her thighs with his knee. He bent his dark head to her breasts, tonguing them until they puckered and tiny goose bumps dotted her torso.

  He kissed her neck, sucking at her earlobe, sending shivers cascading over her skin. He left no part of her untouched, unloved. He took his time, making her feel utterly cherished.

  Then to her surprise, he turned her over and nibbled at her exposed nape and then licked a path down her spine that caused her to tremble uncontrollably. He nipped playfully at her buttocks and then kissed the small of her back, sucking lightly at the spot he’d licked.