The cool evening air of Cradle Mountain, Idaho, brushed across Grace Castle’s skin, chilling her, causing tiny goose bumps to pebble over her arms.
She should have pulled on a sweater before leaving her motel. Actually, she should have pulled one on the moment she’d stepped off the plane. Idaho was far cooler than Texas. She’d known that. But her mind had been elsewhere.
Here. At Blue Halo Security.
Reaching out, she tried the door. Unlocked. The business looked closed, but maybe someone was still here?
She was about to push inside but paused, knowing she should wait until morning. It was six o’clock on a Friday evening, hardly the time to introduce herself to men she’d wronged. Apologize in an attempt to lift some of the unbearable weight of guilt off her chest.
But she’d barely dropped off her bags before leaving the motel again. Her body had a mind of its own. Because she was suffocating. Would be suffocating until she made amends. Or at least tried to.
Sucking in a shaky breath that did nothing to calm her, Grace stepped inside. There was a staircase to the left, with a sign for Blue Halo Security pointing to the second floor.
Every step she took on the stairs felt heavier as anxiety crawled up her throat.
When she reached the top, there was another door, this time with Blue Halo Security painted on the surface.
She took a moment to breathe.
The men would be angry. Christ, they’d probably look at her the same way the guys in Marble Falls had—like she was the enemy they hadn’t seen coming.
And they were right. She’d hurt them.
When she’d apologized, she’d told them that she’d been threatened. That she hadn’t had a choice but to give the reporter, Phillip Barret, the information he’d asked for. They could detect a lie, so they’d known she was telling the truth.
But when they’d pushed for more information—asked why she hadn’t opened up to them sooner or asked for their protection—her throat had closed in fear. She couldn’t share the truth with them. She couldn’t share it with anyone.
Then there was the way Evie and Samantha had looked at her. Two women who had trusted her with their secrets. Their pain. The expressions on their faces were ones she would never forget.
Shock. Hurt. Betrayal.
She was on a mission now. Once she apologized to everyone in Cradle Mountain, she’d leave, but she wouldn’t be returning to Marble Falls. She didn’t know where she was going. It didn’t really matter. Just…somewhere else.
If only she could at least tell Evie and Samantha the truth. But she couldn’t. Not if she wanted to protect her father.
Taking a deep breath, Grace pushed through the door into a dark reception area. The evening light coming through the windows to her right cast a soft glow throughout the room.
Silence. Silent apart from a distant sound of…running water?
Was someone showering? Grace wrapped her arms around her waist, debating over what to do next. Leave? The office was clearly closed, even if the door had been unlocked.
It would be the smart thing to do.
The problem was, if she went back to her motel, there was a chance she’d lose the courage to return. That was why she’d driven here without overthinking it.
She looked around the room, debating what to do next, when her gaze caught on something. A picture. It sat on the large desk. It was almost all that sat on the surface.
Stepping closer, Grace lifted the frame and studied the photo.
Eight sets of intense eyes stared back at her. Eight men who had gone through the unthinkable and were now able to do the unimaginable. Run faster than humanly possible. Lift things that should require ten men. See through darkness, heal quickly… The list was long.
They were victims who were now reclaiming their freedom. And she’d taken their anonymity from them.
Her breath stuttered at the thought. They’d hate her. How could they not?
Thank God no one was here. She hadn’t thought of what she was going to say if she did find someone in the office. Hadn’t planned beyond the pathetic “I’m sorry” that had been barely a whisper to the men in Marble Falls a couple of weeks ago. She was just being driven by this suffocating guilt.
Placing the photo down on the empty desk, she took a quick step toward the exit—but forced herself to stop, locking her knees.
She had to do something to ensure she’d come back. Leave a note, maybe? Tell them where she was so they could pay her a visit if they chose?
Maybe she could find paper and a pen…
Moving behind the desk, she opened the top drawer. She’d just placed a hand in when heat suddenly pressed against her back. Arms, thickly corded with muscle, came around either side of her, and hands took hold of her wrists in a firm grip.
For a moment, Grace couldn’t breathe. The air lodged in her lungs and it almost felt like her throat was sealed shut.
Memories she worked so hard to keep buried tried to snake their way to the surface. Blur her vision and fog her mind.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
His deep voice vibrated through her back, right down her body. She opened her mouth, but his close proximity made it almost impossible to think or speak.
She’d done a lot of work over the years. Work to stop the panic attacks. To heal from the trauma. But physical contact with men was something that still triggered her to this day. It was impossible to think beyond the rush of panic in her ears.
Silence. Thick, heavy seconds of it stretched into eternity. The man behind her remained still, not moving from his position against her back. Not removing the hands that held her wrists in place, acting as manacles.
Deep breath in. Hold. Deep breath out.
“I don’t know what you’re looking for,” his breath skimmed across her neck, heating her limbs but cooling her blood, “but knowing what you do about us, I’m surprised at your attempt to steal from here.”
His voice snuck through the haze of her panicked mind.
Steal? Oh, God, he thought she was robbing him?
It took her three tries to get words out, and even then, they were quiet and shaky. “I-I’m not.”
“You’re not what? Looking for something to use for your story?”
Story…the guy thought she was a reporter. She wasn’t. But she almost wished she was. Swallowing, Grace shook her head. “I’m not a reporter.”
Another beat of silence. Another breath of courage.
“Then what are you doing?”
Lord, it was hard to think with his large body surrounding her. Caging her. She was certain he felt her trembling. She couldn’t stop it.
Deep breath in. Hold. Deep breath out.
“I’m looking for a pen and paper to leave you a note. Then I was going to leave.”
More silence.
Finally, he stepped back.
Grace almost sagged against the desk, legs threatening to buckle beneath her. She only remained on her feet by locking her knees and holding the desk.
After a few seconds of reminding herself that she was safe after all, she turned slowly. Then she looked up, way up, to find a shirtless man with guarded brown eyes and short brown hair staring down at her.
Dangerous. That’s what he looked. And so damn big.
There wasn’t a lot of light in the room, but he was standing so close she could see most of his features, right down to the lines beside his narrowed eyes. He was angry. But then, she’d known that from the edge in his voice.
She tried to keep her fear of the stranger at bay. Now that he was no longer touching her, she could finally catch her breath.
“Who are you?” His voice had softened a fraction. It in no way tempered the threat he emitted, but at least she didn’t feel like she was in danger.
Her throat suddenly felt dry. God, is this how she’d have to apologize? Here, under the cloak of near darkness, after almost having her first panic attack in years?
“I was hoping to talk to you and your team. Is anyone else here?”
She wasn’t sure if she was hoping he said yes or no. Would more men in this dark office make her feel safer? Unlikely. But at least they’d probably turn on the light.
As if he heard her thoughts, the man moved to the wall and flicked a light switch. For a second, she was blinded. Three blinks, then her eyes adjusted.
When she looked at him again, she almost took a step back. If possible, in the light, he seemed even bigger than he had before. Tougher.
She knew he was ex-special forces. Knew what he’d been through. And he looked every little bit the deadly killer.
He stalked back toward her slowly but, possibly sensing her unease, stopped a few feet away, studying her. “My team’s gone home. My name’s Logan Snyder and I’m part owner of this company. Are you looking to hire Blue Halo Security? Do you need help?”
That was almost laughable. She was past the point of needing help. And the one time she’d had external help, it hadn’t ended well. These days, she just kept her head down. Well, had been keeping her head down, until a few months ago.
“I need to apologize.”
His brows rose. “What do you need to apologize for?”
God, she wished the guy would take a seat. Or at least put on a shirt. Anything to make him look…less.
Wetting her lips, she took a moment before saying the words she knew would wipe away any softness he was showing her. “I’m Grace Castle.”
The change in him was immediate. The gentleness of seconds before disappeared. Disbelief mixed with confusion mixed with anger in his expression. “Grace Castle? As in, ‘the therapist from Marble Falls who spoke to the reporter about us’ Grace Castle?”
Yep. That was the one.
She wrapped her arms around her waist, the reality of her vulnerability suddenly making her want to flee the room. She hadn’t known the men in Marble Falls, not really, but still, she’d trusted them not to hurt her. Maybe because Evie and Samantha had spoken so well of them.
Logan, though…she didn’t know him at all. Hadn’t heard a single thing about his integrity.
“Yes. That Grace. I came here to apologize. For what I did.”
He took a small step forward, shrinking the space between them. “You traveled across the country to apologize for exposing us to the media?”
“Yes.” Did he have any idea that what she’d done was eating away at her? That her job was her life, and breaking patient-therapist confidentiality had torn her in two? “I feel terrible about what I did. I’m so, so sorry. And I need you to know that before I leave.”
He lifted a brow. “Before you leave?”
“Yes. I’m not returning to Texas.”
He almost looked like he was going to laugh. “So, you’ve been run out of Marble Falls, and now you stop here to seek redemption for your sins so you can start your new life with a clear conscience.”
Redemption? No, she hadn’t been that optimistic. And she doubted her conscience would ever be clean again. “I just wanted you to hear me say the words in person.”
Because that made it more meaningful, didn’t it? More real…
He took another step closer. She wanted to back away, but with the desk behind her, it was impossible.
“Why did you do it?”
She swallowed, giving the same vague reason she’d given to Wyatt’s team. “Phillip Barret threatened me.” The reporter had blackmailed her into telling him everything she knew about Project Arma. The man was now dead, but the story had still been published by his coworker.
“What did he threaten you with?”
“He threatened to hurt me.” Which was true. It just wasn’t the whole truth. He hadn’t threatened her with bodily harm. But if he’d done what he’d said he would, the bodily pain would have come. And so much more.
Logan frowned. “What were his exact words?”
Grace shot a look toward the door, then back to Logan. “I don’t remember.”
He tilted his head. “You’re lying.”
Of course. He was a human lie detector. They all were. But she didn’t have a truth for that question that she was willing to share. “It’s getting late. I need to go.”
She tried to walk around him, but as she passed, fingers wrapped around her arm. Her heartbeat picked up. Her breath once more caught in her throat, cutting off her air.
He gave a quick frown before clearing his features. “Three of my teammates will be back here in the office tomorrow morning. The other four are out of town at the moment.” When she remained silent, he tilted his head again. “Didn’t you want to apologize to everyone?”
Yes. But, God, she was a coward. Just this had been unbelievably hard.
The hand on her arm was stealing her breath again. But she forced words out. “I did.” She shook her head. “I do. I’ll come back tomorrow.”
His fingers didn’t immediately loosen. Maybe he heard the way her voice trembled. Could you hear a possible lie? Because the truth was, she wasn’t entirely sure she would have the courage to come back tomorrow.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ms. Castle.”
She gave a small nod, her voice stuck. When his fingers fell from her arm, Grace pushed through the door and walked down the stairs on shaky legs.
It wasn’t until she reached her rental car and sank into the seat that tears pressed against the back of her eyes. She blinked them away quickly.
She hated that she was still so affected by what had happened to her.
As a therapist, she’d counseled dozens of women on how to recover from trauma. Yet, here she was, eight years after the most traumatic experience of her life, still triggered by something as simple as a man’s touch.
The damaged therapist who sold out her patients. Yeah, she was doing an outstanding job at life.
Shaking her head, she drove toward her motel. What she needed was a good night’s sleep. Then tomorrow, she’d hopefully return and apologize to those men before leaving town for good.
