Hard to Hold

by Nicole Edwards

  “What did he do, Amy?” Wolfe asked, his tone reflecting how hard it was for him to hear this.

  She locked her eyes with his. “When he said I wouldn’t survive without him, he didn’t mean I wasn’t capable.” She sucked in air, glancing between them all. She could see they’d figured it out, so she kept going. “He meant he wouldn’t allow it.” Amy felt all eyes pinned on her, so she took a deep breath and blurted out the worst of it all. “He tried to kill me.”

  “Son of a motherfucking bitch,” Lynx roared, stomping across the room.

  Copenhagen whimpered, clearly worried about his human.

  Amy ignored Lynx.

  “He told me that if I was serious, if I was planning to leave, he was going to kill me. He told me there was no way he would let me leave him. He wasn’t about to give up his life, his career for some stupid bitch—his words—who was too stupid to keep on breathing.” Amy glanced at Reagan, then back down at her hands.

  “Of course, he didn’t have any mercy on me. He wasn’t about to simply shoot me in the head, put me out of my misery. No, he used his hands, his feet, a crowbar.” She sucked in air. The room seemed to be closing in on her, but she kept pushing forward, her words coming out faster. “He beat me, then dumped my body in a drainage ditch just outside of Embers Ridge. It was June and the temperatures were already soaring. That’s how I ended up here. He drove more than four hours from the house where we lived. By the grace of God, an old couple had a flat tire on that long stretch of highway that day. They found me, called an ambulance.”

  “You’re Jane Doe.” Rhys was staring at her, his eyes wide.

  “What?” Lynx’s confusion rang loudly.

  “There was a story about Jane Doe. About a year ago. I read it. It went out to the local agencies, asking for information that might lead to an arrest.” Rhys never looked away from her. “They found the battered and beaten body of a woman in a drainage ditch. There were no pictures of you because...”

  “Because my face was so damaged I wasn’t recognizable,” Amy finished for him.

  Rhys nodded, pain in his eyes. “The list of injuries was extensive.”

  Amy nodded. They needed to know how cruel this bastard really was. “That day he broke my jaw, both wrists, my left clavicle, three ribs, and both bones in my lower right leg. My cheekbones were fractured, and the swelling on my brain was extensive.” Amy shifted on the chair, the memory of the pain still fresh. “I honestly think he believed I was dead or that I would be shortly after he dumped my body. And if those old people hadn’t found me…”

  As those words left her mouth, her energy wavered, her body suddenly so weak, so tired she could hardly sit up anymore. Now that they knew the story…

  Amy felt as though she could breathe again, like some of the weight had been lifted.

  But as the exterior door slammed behind Wolfe, she wasn’t sure how long that feeling would last.

  Rhys probably should’ve gone after Wolfe, but he noticed Amy sagging, her entire body listing to the left as though every ounce of her energy had faded. Based on what it took to tell a story like that, he could imagine it had. So, instead of making sure Wolfe didn’t beat someone to death, Rhys picked Amy up, carried her up the metal stairs and into the break room on the second floor, while Lynx went after his cousin.

  After depositing Amy in the recliner and perching on the arm, he brushed back the strands of hair that had pulled free from her ponytail.

  “You need to find Wolfe. Calm him down,” she told him as she curled into a ball.

  “I will,” he assured her. “In a minute.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I wasn’t strong.”

  He hadn’t cried in years, but at that moment, Rhys could feel the tears forming behind his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to go back in time and change the course of Amy’s life. All the way to when her parents died.

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that.

  However, he could find this bastard. It might not be easy since he had no doubt she would refuse to tell him the monster’s name. But Rhys would find him.

  And when he did…

  He only hoped he got to him before Wolfe did.

  “When you finally left the hospital, where did you go?”

  Amy rested her head on the arm of the chair. “I never told the nurses my name. I knew he wasn’t going to report me missing, so no one would ever search for me. They called me Jane and I got used to it. The day finally came when they told me I was being released. I was terrified. One of the nurses—Annette—helped me for a few days after. I stayed at her house in her daughter’s bedroom. Then, one day when she was at work, I left. I knew I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want him to hurt her if he found me.

  “I went to the bank, withdrew the money my parents had left me, bought a car, then decided I needed to get far, far away from him. I stayed in various motels for months. I would stay for three or four days, then move on to another, slowly working my way up north. I got almost to Arkansas and decided I couldn’t keep running forever, but I wasn’t about to go back to Houston. So I made my way back here. When I found the house for sale and realized I could pay for it with cash, I decided that was a sign I should stay in Embers Ridge.”

  Rhys continued to slide his hand over her hair.

  Amy yawned. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

  His heart broke for her. The damaged woman who had no one to turn to for help.

  Rhys sat there, watching Amy until he realized she had fallen asleep. He leaned over and kissed her head. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

  She didn’t stir, so he left her in the chair and made his way back downstairs.

  Reagan was standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching him.

  “Who the hell is the bastard, Rhys?” she demanded, her eyes hard. His sister had always been the protective sort. When she was little, they had a hard time stopping her from taking in every injured or homeless animal they came across. In school, she had always been the one to stand up to the bullies, no matter who their target had been. She might be a hard-ass, but the girl had a huge heart.

  Rhys shrugged. “I don’t know. But I intend to find out.”

  “Why won’t she tell you his name?”

  “She’s scared shitless, Reagan. She fucking can’t even walk in her own damn house without freezing up. I’m sure she jumps at every damn shadow, worried that he’ll be back for her.”

  “Will he?”

  “I fucking hope not.” Rhys honestly didn’t know. “Depends on the political power he wields and whether or not he feels truly threatened by her.”

  “You think he knows she’s alive?”

  Rhys nodded. That he did know. “If he’s in law enforcement, I’m sure he knows. He would’ve gotten the same information I did. The media was all over it. And since he was the one who dumped her body…”

  “How did he not find her in the hospital?”

  “Because God was watching over her,” he said. That was the only reason he could think of.

  Reagan nodded. Thankfully, her interrogation was over.

  “I need to go find Wolfe.”

  “Yeah. You do.”

  Rhys glanced around the warehouse. “Where’s Lynx?”

  “He tore ass outta here. You know him. He doesn’t deal well with this … emotional stuff.”

  No kidding.

  As he was turning toward the door, it opened and Wolfe stepped into the building.

  Reagan glanced over her shoulder, then passed Rhys. “I’m gonna head over to the diner. Grab some food. Can you call me later? Let me know how she’s doin’? And let her know I’m here if she needs me.”

  Rhys nodded. He knew his sister wouldn’t let this go. Once she latched onto someone, she was like a dog with a bone. Like Lynx, Reagan was fiercely protective of those she cared about.

  As soon as Reagan was out the door, Rhys moved toward Wolfe. “You all right?”

  Wolfe frowned. “Are you?”


  No. No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t sure he would ever be all right after hearing that.

  Wolfe glanced up at the second floor. “She up there?”

  “She’s asleep. In the recliner.”

  For a second, Wolfe didn’t move. His eyes remained locked on Rhys’s face. It was the first time he’d ever seen Wolfe fall apart. Right there before his eyes, tears formed in Wolfe’s eyes. Rhys moved toward him, but Wolfe sidestepped him before he could console him.

  Wolfe reared his fist back and aimed it toward a wooden post but stopped just shy of hitting it, growling through clenched teeth. Rhys figured it had more to do with not wanting to wake up Amy than fear of shattering his entire hand.

  “I want to kill that bastard,” Wolfe ground out. “I want to beat him to a pulp, then do it again and again. And then I want to watch him die a slow, painful death.”

  Rhys understood Wolfe’s anger. He felt it.

  “You need to find out who the fuck he is,” Wolfe demanded.

  “I’ll do my best. But I can’t broadcast this information. It’s not like I can send out an APB on the guy. Amy doesn’t want him to find her. And so far, she’s managed to evade him.”

  “You think he’s lookin’ for her?”

  “I do. If he’s as powerful as she says, he doesn’t want the loose end. It’s possible he’s sitting back, buying time.” Rhys took a deep breath. “I know you don’t want to, but I need as much information as you have on her. It’s the only way I’ll be able to back track and find him.”

  Wolfe nodded, but whether he was agreeing to give him the details or simply saying he understood, Rhys wasn’t sure.

  He waited.

  “I’ll get you a copy of her application.”

  “She filled it out?”

  Another nod. “I think she trusts me now.”

  Rhys didn’t doubt that. She’d opened up to all of them, more so than she’d probably wanted to. It seemed trust was the least of their issues at this point.

  Wolfe released a breath, his gaze straying to the second floor once more. “I’m gonna close up shop and take her back to my place. Let her sleep for a while. I don’t think she slept at all last night.”

  Rhys nodded. “I’ve got to get to work. I’ve got Dean fillin’ in, but I have to relieve him.”

  “Call me or better yet, just stop by the house when you get done.” Wolfe reached out and touched his hand. A gesture that Rhys hadn’t expected, but one that he needed more than he’d realized.

  “And call me if you find out anything.”

  “Will do.” Rhys took a couple of steps toward the door. “Oh, and Wolfe?”

  “Huh?”

  “Rein Lynx in before he gets himself in trouble.”

  A small smile tilted Wolfe’s mouth. “Right. Like anyone has the power to do that.”

  Unfortunately, no truer words had ever been spoken. Rhys only hoped Lynx found a constructive way to release the pent-up frustration, otherwise Rhys’s job was going to get that much harder.

  He had enough on his plate as it was.

  17

  __________

  One thing his momma had taught him was how to use a Crock-Pot.

  Wolfe put that skill to good use after he got Amy to his house and tucked her into his bed. He closed the blinds, turned off the lights, kissed her forehead, and told her she was safe now. He hoped she believed him. Regardless, she drifted back to sleep in no time, and he’d spent the past few hours flipping through channels and messing around on the Internet.

  His brain wouldn’t shut off. Amy’s story and the gruesome images he’d mentally conjured up were on repeat in his head, making him crazy. He could still see her sitting stoically in that chair, reciting in horrifying detail the things that bastard had done to her. The worst part … Wolfe knew she felt responsible, as though she’d actually had a choice in the matter. He knew better. It wasn’t her fault, and she damn sure wasn’t weak. He hadn’t walked in her shoes, and from the outside looking in, it would’ve been easy to say what she should’ve done. None of that mattered because she had done what she felt was necessary for her survival. No matter how much pain she’d had to endure.

  After she’d told the story, Wolfe had stormed outside, a rage unlike anything he’d ever known fueling him. The anger had had nowhere to go, though, and he’d found himself bending over, trying to catch his breath as tears slammed him so hard he could barely stand up. Lynx had come over, put a firm hand on the back of Wolfe’s neck, and told him that they would ensure that bastard never got near her again.

  He appreciated the sentiment. And Wolfe knew Lynx meant it.

  Over the years, Lynx had taken it upon himself to protect the people of this town, often from themselves. It had all started a decade ago when Lynx had been eighteen years old and his momma died. The tragic news had devastated their family, but over time, they’d picked up and moved on. However, Lynx and his old man had never been the same. Cooter had locked himself up in the house; Lynx had gone off the rails, becoming even wilder and crazier than he already was. It was a wonder he was still with them after some of the stunts he’d pulled.

  But all in all, Lynx had become the man they all depended on to have their backs.

  And he would; Wolfe didn’t doubt him for a second.

  As the hours had passed, some of Wolfe’s rage had subsided, and the only thing he wanted for Amy was justice.

  Whoever the man was who had violated her in every conceivable way for nearly five years…

  Not even God could help him now.

  Wolfe was brought back to the present when he heard his bedroom door open. He looked up from his spot on the couch to see Amy coming out of the room. Her hair was down around her shoulders and…

  “Holy fuck.” The words were expelled on a rough breath.

  She was wearing his T-shirt and nothing else, from what he could tell. The shirt came down to her knees, the sleeves resting on her forearms, her nipples pebbled beneath the white cotton, and she was the hottest goddamn thing he’d ever seen.

  “That’s now my absolute favorite shirt,” he told her as she moved toward him.

  A small smile curved her pretty mouth.

  Wolfe held up his arm for her to sit by him, allowing space for her to get as close as possible. She tucked her knees up close and curled against his side. He wrapped his arm around her, pressing his lips to her forehead.

  “Feel a little better?” He glanced at the clock. “You slept for about six hours.”

  She yawned. “Yeah. I do feel better.” She turned her head slightly, her eyes darting around the room. “Your house is beautiful.”

  “Thanks. Exactly the look I was goin’ for.”

  Amy swatted his stomach.

  He kissed her head again, chuckling.

  “Where’s Rhys?”

  “He had to go into work. Said he’d be over when he was done.”

  “What’s that smell? It’s making my stomach growl.”

  “Pot roast in the Crock-Pot.”

  Amy tilted her head up at him. “And you tried to tell me you couldn’t cook.”

  Wolfe laughed. “Technically, I never said that.”

  “You implied.”

  “No, not really. You assumed.”

  “So, you do cook?” She looked hopeful.

  “In the Crock-Pot, yes. I’m not too bad on the grill, either. Anything else, it’s a gamble.”

  Amy dropped her head back to his shoulder. She was quiet for a few minutes, and Wolfe thought she had fallen back asleep, but then her hand started to move, gliding beneath his shirt, her fingers grazing his stomach.

  He tried to keep his heart rate under control. Not an easy thing to do when she was touching him while wearing nothing but his shirt.

  “I’m sorry about this morning,” she said softly.

  “Nothin’ to be sorry about.”

  “I didn’t mean to dump everything on you. I just…” Amy sighed. “I’m so tired of being scared. I have nightmares. Bad
ones. I have to go through it over and over again. Then when I wake up, I’m terrified he’s gonna show up. One day he will; I know it.”

  Wolfe didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t imagine the hell she’d lived through.

  Amy tilted her head back and Wolfe turned his, their mouths close together.

  “I’m glad I’m here,” she whispered.

  “Me, too.”

  She pulled back a little, propping herself up on her arm. Her face contorted slightly. She looked confused.

  “What?” he asked, unable to read her mind.

  “Do you still … you know … want me?”

  Wolfe jerked back, keeping his eyes locked with hers, his eyebrows lowering. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Because…” She didn’t move, but her eyes left his. “I’m damaged, Wolfe.”

  He reached for her, curling his hand behind her neck, turning her head so she was looking at him again. He brushed his thumb over her cheekbone, met her gaze and held it. “You’re perfect,” he whispered.

  She snorted. “Not by a long shot.”

  Wolfe leaned forward, shifting their positions as he leaned her back on the sofa, his hand remaining behind her neck as he laid her down. “You’re perfect for me.”

  Tears glistened in her eyes. “I want that to be true. You don’t even understand how much.”

  “It is true. I don’t lie.”

  He kissed her. No rushing, no pressure, just a long, leisurely kiss. She smelled so damn good, tasted even better.

  Her hands were on him, cool fingers roaming beneath his shirt, making his breath lodge in his chest. When she attempted to remove it, he broke the kiss, allowing her to pull the shirt over his head. Her eyes drifted down to his chest, his arms, back up.

  When she met his eyes again, there was heat there, and Wolfe knew damn well where this was headed. He was hesitant, but he knew if she asked, he wouldn’t be able to deny her anything.

  Hell, at this point Wolfe was pretty damn sure he’d do anything for her.

  Any damn thing.