Grace closed the door softly behind her before moving down the hall of the hospital. Her breaths were deep. It had been a long afternoon. A long afternoon of putting her therapist face on and trying not to let each woman’s story cut new scars into her soul.
It wasn’t until the door to the bathroom was firmly locked behind her that she finally shuttered her eyes, each breath filling her chest.
Six women. Six different stories. Each just as harrowing as the last.
Three of the women had been taken from their homes. Locks broken. Intruder slipping in under the cloak of darkness. Plunging them into a world of terror.
The other three had just trusted the wrong people. Believed that men were good who weren’t.
She loved her job. Helping women was her life. But today’s stories hit so close to home. They almost made it impossible to remain distant.
These women’s ordeals were worse than hers. She’d been held for a week. Abused by one man, rather than many. They had been away from their families for a long time, some for years, most of them now drug-dependent.
She could have turned into them. And she had similar scars, both internal and external.
Grace’s fingers skimmed over the old wound on her thigh. Then she touched the one between her breasts. Visual reminders of what she’d been through. Of what she’d survived. It had taken years of work, years of therapy, for her to be able to just look at the scars. Touch them.
She breathed out slowly. Her heart still felt heavy, but taking a few moments had helped. At least most of the men who had been holding the women were dead. The women themselves had told her. Not all the men, but most.
Good. Men like that didn’t deserve the air they breathed, as far as Grace was concerned. Eliminating them made the world that bit safer.
Walking over to the sink, she threw some water on her face before studying her reflection in the mirror. Dark circles colored the skin under her eyes. God, she looked as drawn out as she felt.
Not good. Not when she was about to apologize to four big, burly guys who noticed everything.
You’ve got this, Grace.
Giving herself a mental pep talk, she stepped out of the bathroom, immediately colliding with a large body. Strong hands went to her upper arms, steadying her.
The second Logan met her gaze, his brows drew together. “Hey, are you okay?”
Did he see her exhaustion as clearly as she felt it? “Yes, I’m fine. Are you just finishing your shift?” She’d seen him working security in the hall outside the women’s rooms. Jason had been stationed there when she left.
A pause followed, during which he watched her closely. Analyzed her. Then he lifted his hand, gently rubbing his thumb below her eye, noticing what she just had. She felt his touch right down to her toes. And it didn’t freak her out at all.
“Yeah, I am. I was wondering if I could grab a ride home with you? I came with Jason and he’s sticking around a bit longer.”
“Of course. Are you ready to go?”
He gave a small nod before lowering his hand. But instead of giving her space, he moved it to the small of her back. And that’s how they walked to her car. With him touching her—and her feeling it everywhere.
The ride to his place was a quiet one. She caught every look he threw her way. There were questions in his eyes.
When they arrived at his house, she saw four cars parked outside. She parked beside them. His team was here.
Her hand went to the door, but she stilled when he touched her other wrist.
“I can tell the guys to come back tomorrow.”
Boy, she must really look exhausted if he was offering that. “No. You don’t need to do that. They deserve an apology sooner rather than later.” When his hand didn’t move, she frowned. “Logan—”
“If counseling those women is too much, you need to tell me.”
“It’s not too much. Their stories are heavy, and empathy is a key component of therapy. It would be worrying if I wasn’t affected by their stories on some level.”
Of course, it was harder, given her history, but Logan didn’t need to know that. What he did need to know was that she was fit to do her job. That she was not going to fail these women. She had the education to provide them with what they needed.
“I’m human, and I have emotions,” she continued. “But this is what I’m trained to do. I’m committed to working with these women to help them recover from their trauma for as long as they’re in my care. And I have the training to cope with these situations.”
Every word she spoke was true. And she hoped that Logan would be able to recognize that.
“Are you sure?”
“I am.” Was she tired? Yes. Was she emotionally drained? Absolutely. But she wasn’t going to let anyone down. She couldn’t. “Now, let’s go inside so I can apologize to your team.”
Logan still didn’t seem convinced, but instead of pushing, he opened his door and led them inside.
Four large men stood in the living room. They looked fierce and dangerous, and they took up all the space. It almost had her pausing mid-step.
As if they could sense her unease, a couple of them offered half smiles. Another took a seat in the recliner. The fourth remained where he was, his features unchanged.
Logan touched the small of her back, and this time, she almost jumped. “Grace, this is Callum and Tyler.” He pointed to the two guys leaning against a wall, smiling. Then he nodded toward the man in the recliner. “This is Flynn. And that’s Liam.” The last man, Liam, was the one who hadn’t sat or smiled.
“Hi.” She gave them each a small smile, sure it looked wonky as hell.
Logan led her toward the couch, sitting beside her. Taking a steadying breath, she made eye contact with each man. “I came to Cradle Mountain because I owe each of you an apology. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for talking to that journalist, Phillip Barret, and telling him about what Project Arma did to you. I’m sorry about the exposure and media attention it has brought. I’m just…I’m sorry.”
“Why did you do it?” Liam asked, muscles flexing in his biceps.
She was sure Logan had already told them everything she’d told him. But she understood their need to hear her say the words herself. “Because Phillip threatened me, and I was scared and alone. I didn’t think I had any other options but to do as he asked.” None that would end well for her or her father, at least. “I was thinking about me,” and Dad, “and not about you. I’m sorry.”
“We understand fear,” Flynn said. “It can make a person do things they wouldn’t normally do.”
Some of the tightness in her chest eased. Until Liam spoke again.
“What did he threaten you with?”
It was the same question the other guys had asked, and she would have to give the same half answer. “He threatened to endanger my life.”
“Endanger how?” It wasn’t so much what he asked, but how he asked it. His tone had the fine hairs standing on her arms.
Logan’s voice hardened. “Liam.”
“What? The woman’s apologizing but what is she actually sharing? How are we supposed to understand if we don’t know why she hurt us? Her apology is flimsy as hell.”
Logan stood, stepping closer to his friend. “Nothing about it is ‘flimsy’. Her apology is genuine.”
Liam stepped forward as well, his face contorting with anger.
Grace rushed to her feet. God, she hadn’t wanted them to turn on each other. “He uncovered a secret of mine. Something that I’m desperate to keep buried.”
The words rushed out of her mouth. For a second, she couldn’t believe she’d shared that. It was more than she’d shared with anyone before—ever. She felt Logan’s eyes on her, but didn’t look his way.
“If he’d published my story instead of yours,” she continued, only looking at Liam, “it would have been only a matter of time before not only my life, but the life of someone I love, was put in danger. I was selfish.”
He folded his arms across his big chest. “I don’t suppose you plan to tell us that story?”
She shook her head slowly.
Silence. Silence so thick, it hung in the air.
Something changed in Liam’s expression. The anger decreased, replaced with something else. Something a little less threatening.
“I understand protecting the people you love,” he said. “Does it make what you did right? No. But maybe I would have done the same.”
More of the suffocating weight lifted.
Callum, the man who looked to be the biggest of his friends, cracked a smile. “I don’t mind the media attention. That journalist…what’s her name? Nicole? She’s cute, and I like how determined she is. Plus, all the extra attention I’ve been getting around town really isn’t so bad,” he added. “Finally, I’m being treated the way I should be.”
A few of the guys scoffed. And just like that, the tension in the room thinned.
Tyler lifted a brow. “What? Like a—”
A pillow was thrown at Tyler’s head before he could finish.
As the guys bickered and joked around her, she actually smiled. And this smile wasn’t forced. She knew her explanation left more questions than answers, and there was a chance Logan may start asking those questions before she left town. But for now, she felt good that she’d righted some of her wrongs.
