Her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt, like the long-sleeved Henley is all that’s keeping her upright.
I pull her close, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead and letting her lean against me. “But you are walking.”
For a moment, I just breathe her in. Even the plain, industrial soap and the vague hint of antiseptic can’t hide the scent of her skin. Of the woman I’ve loved for more than twenty years.
When it’s just me—or Parker—Grace’s personality is starting to peek through. She talks more. Breathes easier. But around Jasper and Connor, she quiets. Withdraws. I haven’t pushed her to understand why, though I have my suspicions.
My brother and Connor give her space, heading for the cars with Parker close behind, her stride easy. But that’s all a ruse. She’s always alert. Always watching. Always ready for the worst.
The people who hurt Grace are still out there, and no one’s pretending they’re not.
The doctor takes Grace’s hands, kisses both her cheeks, and murmurs, “Vas con Dios. I will keep you in my prayers.”
Grace blinks back a tear and nods. “Thank you. For…everything.”
“You owe me nothing, my dear. Your husband will take care of you now. His heart is steady, and I believe it beats only for you.”
She glances up at me, so many emotions flickering in her eyes. She trusts me, of that I’m certain. But she’s still afraid. Still suffering from the heavy weight of not remembering the man I used to be to her.
The man I still am.
We step out into the morning light. It’s too bright, and Grace flinches. I reach for the sunglasses Parker shoved into my hand earlier and slip them over her eyes. Grace releases a slow breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly.
“You okay?” I ask, supporting her weight as we shuffle slowly toward the SUV.
She stays quiet for another few steps. “I…don’t know. What if I walk into that house and feel nothing? What if I never remember?”
I stop, turning her with her back to the sun so she can look me in the eyes. “Then we start over. We make new memories. Ones no one will ever get the chance to take from you.”
“But…AJ…?”
“Yeah, darlin’?”
She leans into me, her entire body trembling. “We don’t know who took me. Or why. What if they try again?”
I blink, seeing nothing but Grace in that bloodstained white dress, her wrists and ankles bound. Anguish, determination, and rage pulse through my veins. “Let them come, darlin’. It’ll be the last damn thing they ever do.”
Holding her close, I try to memorize everything about the woman she is today. Her strength. Her courage. How she feels in my arms.
We can’t stay here. The longer we’re out in public—even in the middle of nowhere—the more likely someone will see something they shouldn’t.
Still, I can’t rush her. We lost almost three years. I’ll give her every second she needs now.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Grace
The world pitches sideways as Parker takes a turn. I may not remember riding in a car before today, but somehow, I know she’s being careful. Still, I bury my face against AJ’s chest.
The SUV’s tinted windows hide us from view, but if I keep my eyes open, the passing scenery triggers my vertigo over and over again. At the clinic, I was so excited to leave the broken parts of me behind. But now…I realize all that stayed in Mexico was that awful hospital gown and the fear that no one would have cared if I lived or died.
The flight wasn’t terrible, at least. Well, not after the tense moment when the pilot emerged from the cockpit before takeoff and stared right at me.
Connor immediately sprang to his feet, putting himself between me and the pilot, hands balled into fists at his sides.
“If anyone asks, you flew the four of us from Austin to Chihuahua early Saturday mornin’, then returned the same four of us back to Austin on Sunday. We good?”
“My instructions were to take this plane on a test flight. I haven’t seen any of you. Ever.”
