Page 37 of Crossroads of Betrayal
“She’s been through a lot. You both have. You still have time there. Maybe you’ll find your footing. Fall back into step, or at least hash out what caused the split. I know you have a lot of balls in the air right now, but don’t forget what’s most important. Healing. For you and maybe even for Grace.”
He disconnected, not sure he believed her. Logically, it made sense to push away all the other bullshit and focus solely on what had brought him to Crossroads Mountain Retreat. But how did he do that when someone had just tried to kill Grace and he was being framed for murder?
* * *
Awareness leakedinto Grace’s subconsciousness, as if something pulled at strings to force her eyelids open. The sound of clacking computer keys filtered into her ears. She moved, and pain throbbed along her side and squeezed her hip. Stilling her body, she grimaced and blinked to orient herself.
She was on the couch, her leg propped on the coffee table, and a blanket thrown over her. Annie laid in a ball beside her leg.
Zeke sat on the armchair angled beside the sofa with her laptop, a cup of steaming coffee on the chair beside him. He frowned at whatever was on the screen.
A small groan left her mouth as she shifted.
His head snapped up. “Are you okay? Do you need something?”
Wincing, she used her hands to brace herself as she moved her leg and rested her foot on the floor. The annoying tingles of a sleepy limb made her arm feel like a noodle. “I’m fine. What time is it?”
“Almost nine. You’ve been asleep for a couple hours.”
She blinked the remaining fatigue from her eyes. “That had to be the most uncomfortable position to sleep in,” she said, rubbing at the knots clumping together on the side of her neck.
He grinned. “I’ve seen you sleep in worse.”
Warmth spread from her toes to her cheeks, and she ignored his comment. “You didn’t have to stay.”
“I wasn’t sure how you’d feel once you woke up, and I didn’t want you stranded on the couch or something.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”
The remark stung. That’s exactly what she’d done to him. Packed up her things and left town without a second glance, a goodbye, or an explanation. At the time, she’d thought it’d be easier for them both to make a clean break. Hindsight taught her nothing would ever be easy about leaving Zeke.
“What are you working on?” She asked, instead of diving into their deeper issues. Now wasn’t the time when her body hummed in a haze of pain.
“I’m looking at Tessa’s social media pages. Did you know she and Joan almost died?”
“Joan mentioned that Tessa saved her on the last case they’d been on. She didn’t say much else, but I also didn’t ask. I was a little distracted. I assumed that was the reason they were at the retreat.”
“Tessa’s Facebook page was flooded with articles about what happened. Apparently, they’d infiltrated a crime ring, and Joan’s cover was blown. Not a lot of details given, but looks like Tessa charged in and saved Joan, barely escaping herself. Took down a large chunk of the ring—well-known syndicate that sold drugs and pushed their weight around to extort local businesses.”
“No way they got everyone involved, even if they cut off the head.”
“I agree.” Zeke cradled his coffee mug in his hands and set it on his lap. “We should talk to Joan about this. We’ve all been working under the assumption whoever killed Tessa was part of the camping trip. Maybe we’re wrong.”
A shiver slid down Grace’s spine. If a group of powerful criminals was taken out of the game by Tessa and Joan, any stragglers left hanging could be out to seek revenge on anyone who’d betrayed them. “If someone followed them here and killed Tessa, Joan could be next.”
“I’m sure Lincoln and Cruz are already investigating this, but we need to make sure they know what Joan and Tessa walked away from. You might want to call one of them, as well as return some of the other calls that came in while you were sleeping. Your phone was buzzing like crazy.”
Frowning, she scooped up her phone from the stand beside her. Five missed calls and a dozen text messages waited for her. “Geez, I don’t think I’ve ever had this many people try to reach me.”
He cleared his throat then took a long sip of coffee. “Your friends care about you. They want to make sure you’re all right. Especially since you let some strange man they’d never heard of take you home from the hospital.”
Unable to meet his wounded eyes, she picked at a string on the fuzzy blanket spread over her lap. Silence swarmed around them louder than an angry mob of bees. She breathed in deep, wincing at the pain, then finally glanced his way. “I was a shell of a person when I came here. Brooke gave me a job and never asked questions about my past. Looking back, I think she knew I would have bolted if she pressed too hard. Most of the workers at the retreat have survived some kind of trauma, and they respect each other’s boundaries. I needed that. Needed time to lick my wounds alone. Time to heal and try to become a whole person again. Try to forgive myself.”
The words she’d never spoken tasted bitter in her mouth and she swallowed hard. Explaining herself was never easy. Especially when she’d spent so much time burying who she was, it was almost difficult to really know the woman who now stared back at her in the mirror.
Setting down his mug, he leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. “Forgive yourself for what?”
Days, months, years’ worth of pent-up emotions pressed against the backs of her eyes. “For always making the wrong decision. For putting myself above everyone else, consequences be damned. I know Penelope is the one who sent you here, but you’re both trying to save someone who’s unsavable. Someone who’s actions always wind up hurting other people.”
“Who did you hurt? Grace, you gave so much of your life to help others. Save strangers at the cost of your own safety—your own freedom. You are not unsavable. You’re amazing. Why can’t you see what the rest of us see?”
