Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
NIALL
I can hear her crying in there.
While I change the sheets on my bed—the guest bedroom isn’t set up yet, and I wouldn’t put her in there, anyway—her soft sobs filter through the bathroom door.
With each sob, my heart twists into a tighter knot.
I feel helpless. Jade is in the shower, crying, and there’s nothing I can do to help her. There’s nothing I can do to take the trauma she suffered away.
Trauma that I think I haven’t heard close to the worst of. With only snippets, I already have a pretty good idea of what happened. Smart, stubborn, beautiful Jade abducted; held captive by a trafficking group, violated…
Fuck .
Everything about this makes me want to throw things. Break things. Track down whoever is behind this and kill them.
How did this happen? Was it random? Someone spotting Jade on the street? Or was it someone she knows? Someone who betrayed her?
As much as I hate to think it, it’s not surprising that Jade would be targeted. She’s gorgeous—maybe that’s wrong to think about my sister’s best friend, but it’s the truth. Bright blue eyes, long, red-gold hair, a cute little spray of freckles across her nose, and she just has this way about her. She demands attention without even trying.
And she doesn’t try; that’s the thing. Since I’ve known Jade, she’s been laser-focused on school or work. I’ve seen her laughing and letting loose with Shea, but around other people, Jade is friendly, but reserved.
Honestly, when Shea was in college, I was relieved that she found Jade. The first time I met Jade while I was home on leave, she shook my hand and earnestly thanked me for my service. And when I asked her about her classes, she spent five minutes outlining her ten-year plan to become a physician assistant in a family practice.
Which she did. Ahead of schedule, actually.
I’ve learned over the years that Jade is much more than that. She’s loyal. Incredibly smart. Quietly funny. Stubborn to a fault. And while she’s normally reserved, she’s bold when she needs to be.
While I know I didn’t act like it before, when everything with Shea blew up, I care about Jade. Probably more than I should. Which makes it even harder to listen to her crying. And it makes it a hundred times worse to think about her going through such a traumatic thing.
“Niall?” The bathroom door opens, and Jade peeks her head through. “Did Rhiannon bring any clothes over yet? Or…”
Her eyes are red. Dammit. My chest constricts. But I force a smile and grab the stack of folded clothes from the dresser, carrying them over to the bathroom. “She did. There’s extra; she wanted you to have some options to choose from.”
As Jade reaches out for the clothes, her other hand clutches at her towel, and I sternly scold myself for even considering glancing at the swell of her breasts.
Just because she looks so pretty, her damp hair more red than gold, cheeks pink from the heat of the shower, her eyes the exact color of the sky in summer…
No. She’s been through an incredibly traumatic experience. I shouldn’t even be noticing what Jade looks like.
Before she closes the door again, I ask quickly, “What do you want to eat? I wasn’t sure how long you’d be, so I didn’t want to start… But I have soup. Sandwiches. Cereal. Some frozen stuff. Burritos. Wings. Or if you want something else, I could ask one of the other guys.”
Jade stares at me with an indecipherable expression. Then one corner of her lip lifts, just the tiniest bit. “Still haven’t learned how to cook?”
“I have.” I give her a mock-affronted look, but I’m actually thrilled to see her smile. “I can cook. I just don’t. For one guy, it doesn’t make sense. But if you want something, I’ll figure out how to make it.”
“A sandwich is fine.” She pauses, her smile dropping, and a tiny line forms between her brows. “I’m just teasing, Niall. Anything is good?—”
“I know.” Smiling, I add, “Shea gives me a hard time about it all the time. I’m not offended. But you’ll see. This will be the best sandwich you’ve ever had.”
It’s a pretty good sandwich, if I say so myself. Turkey, smoked gouda, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise, a bit of spicy mustard all on fresh sourdough, served with a cup of cream of mushroom soup on the side.
The soup is actually from Dante, who brought it over while I was making the sandwich. From the doorway—I know he wanted to give Jade her space rather than coming right in like he would normally—he said, “I made it last night. So it’s fresh. I knew you wouldn’t be much use in the kitchen…”
Man. It’s not that I can’t cook. I just choose not to.
But I wasn’t going to turn away Dante’s cooking. Even though we’ve only been living at the new HQ for a little over a month, we quickly figured out who the best cook was, and everyone is constantly nagging him to cook dinner for us.
We’re sitting at the kitchen table, and I’ve already demolished my sandwich while Jade is nibbling halfheartedly at hers. I’m torn whether to push her on it or not. If she escaped sometime last night, and it’s past ten in the morning now, plus hours of running, like she said, Jade needs way more nourishment.
But on the other hand, I don’t want to add more stress to the situation. Jade’s hanging on to her control by a thread—I can see it the way she gnaws on her lip, how she taps the table and jitters her foot, the tight set of her shoulders and her jaw—and I don’t want to be the one to break it.
Jade takes another bite of her sandwich and sets it down with a soft sigh. Her eyes raise from her plate to meet mine. “Sorry. It’s a good sandwich. My stomach just… I can’t manage it.”
“It’s okay. Whatever you don’t finish, I can put it in the fridge. Or make you another one later. Or make you something different.”
Her teeth make little marks in her lower lip. “Your team. They must want to talk to me. Right?”
“Well, they want to know what happened,” I clarify. “So we can help you. But you don’t have to meet with everyone at once. And it doesn’t have to be today. I’m sure you’re exhausted. So you can get some sleep, try to eat some more, and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
“Alright. But.” She takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “I’m sorry, Niall.”
“What? Why?”
“For calling you. I’m sure… you don’t want me here.”
It’s a kick to the chest. Does she really think that?
“No, Jade, that’s not true.”
“It’s okay. I mean… I’m not happy about it, but?—”
“Jade.” My tone is gently firm. “That is not true. At all. I am so glad you called me. That you reached out to me. That you’re letting me help you. That you’re here, and safe.”
There’s a long silence before Jade says, “You were the first person I thought to call.”
Oh.
There’s that kick again, but this time it feels different. Not painful; but shocking, just the same.
Looking at Jade seriously, I tell her, “Thank you for calling me. I mean it. And we’ll talk about that other part. Get it cleared up. Not now, because you have enough to deal with. But soon. Alright?”
Her small smile appears again. “Okay.”
“How is she doing?”
Dante casts a quick glance at the mostly closed door, left open a few inches so I can hear Jade if she needs me. His brows are pulled down in a deep V, and there’s a tension to his posture that mirrors my own. Now that everyone knows why Jade is here—or at least the general idea of it—we’re even more determined to protect her.
“Not great.” My jaw clenches painfully, and I blow out a slow breath before continuing. “She’s scared. Exhausted. She barely ate, and I didn’t want to push her. She’s trying to stay strong, but… fuck , Dante. The things she said. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Damn.” He makes a low sound of dismay. “And she’s adamant about not going to the police?”
“Yeah. She wouldn’t say why, but Jade… I just don’t think she’d say that if there wasn’t a good reason for it.”
“You don’t think it could just be trauma? A reluctance to admit what happened to her?”
A rock settles in my gut. “It’s possible. But I know her. She’s one of the most level-headed people I know. If she thought going to the police was the best thing, she’d do it even if she was afraid to.”
Dante frowns, his expression darkening. “I guess we’ll find out when she tells us everything. Is she going to be alright with that? Talking to us?”
“Yes. I wasn’t going to mention it right away, but she brought it up. Said she figured the team would want to hear everything. I told her we could wait until tomorrow. Give her some time to rest first.”
“Good idea.” He pauses. “Who are you thinking? You’ll be there, obviously.”
“You and Rhiannon, I think. Since Jade knows her already. And I think it’ll be helpful to have another woman there. Just—” Fuck . Thinking about what Jade went through fills me with such rage it’s hard to speak past it.
“I’m sorry, man.” Dante regards me solemnly. “I know this can’t be easy. When it’s someone you know… How long have you known Jade?”
Thinking back, I take a moment before answering. “Twelve years. Since Shea’s freshman year of college. I’d see her at least a few times a year when I’d visit Shea.”
Until the last couple of years, at least, when Jade started making every attempt not to see me.
Dante claps me on the shoulder. “We’ll keep her safe. And we’ll figure this out.”
“Yeah—”
I’m cut off by a terrified scream.
My heart rockets into my throat.
Even though I know rationally Jade is safe inside my apartment, I can’t help the initial surge of panic.
Is she hurt worse than we thought? Is it possible someone…
I fling the door open and burst into the apartment, already sprinting toward my bedroom as another scream sends my pulse into the stratosphere.
Fuck. Why is it taking so damn long to run less than thirty feet?
Please let her be okay.
As I take the corner into my bedroom, I grab the doorjamb, slingshotting myself inside.
The bed looks like a hurricane hit it. Blankets strewn everywhere. Pillows scattered on the floor. Sheets twisted like pretzels.
And Jade, hunched into a tiny ball in the center of it, sobbing.
My heart wrenches so violently it steals my breath.
Between sobs, she’s making these terrible, scared sounds that send every protective instinct flaring.
I race across the room but freeze just by the side of the bed, hesitating.
My first impulse is to touch her shoulder, try to gently wake her up, but I don’t want to touch Jade without her permission.
I don’t want to sit on the bed, and possibly trigger a traumatic memory for her when she wakes, but if I’m standing, looming over her… will that be any better?
She lets out another terrified cry, and it jolts me into action. Perching myself on the very edge of the bed, I pitch my voice so it’s low and soothing. “Jade. You’re okay. You’re safe. It’s Niall, I’m here; I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
It takes several repetitions before she comes out of the nightmare; her eyes flying open with a startled gasp.
“It’s okay,” I repeat softly. “You’re safe. No one can hurt you here. I promise.”
Jade stares at me, her eyes filling with tears. Her chin wobbles. On a sniffle, she whispers, “Niall?”
“Yeah, hun. It’s me. You’re in my apartment. Remember? At Blade and Arrow. Everyone is here to keep you safe.”
A tear slips down her cheek. In a small voice, she says, “I dreamed I was back there.”
Ah, shit.
My heart.
I’m struck with a sudden need to pull her into my arms. To hold Jade until she stops shaking. But that would be weird and completely inappropriate, so I settle on, “I’m so sorry. But you’re not. You’re here. And I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”
Several more tears escape, but she quickly dashes them away. “I… I’m sorry…” Her gaze sweeps across the bed. “I messed everything up. And I… did I wake you up? I’m sorry?—”
“No, you didn’t. Mess things up, or wake me up. It’s fine.” At her doubtful expression, I add, “I mean it, Jade. It’s just a bed. I can remake it. And I was up. So don’t worry.”
After a pause, she gives me a tiny nod. “Okay.”
“What can I get you? Do you want to go back to sleep? Watch some TV? Have something to eat?”
“Could I… watch some TV? Or a movie? I just… I don’t want to go back to sleep yet.”
But the movie isn’t thirty minutes in before Jade falls asleep again, slumping back against the couch cushions. She looks absolutely wiped, still so pale, purplish smudges dark under her eyes, tiny lines of strain etched across her forehead even in sleep.
She’s still shaking slightly, but I’m not sure if it’s from fear, residual shock, or cold. I get up to find a blanket and carefully lay it over her, then sit at the opposite end of the couch to keep watch.
There are other things I could do while she sleeps—run through the equipment order I need to send out, fix the bed, tidy the apartment, text Rhiannon to ask what sorts of things we need to buy for Jade—but nothing seems as important as just being here .
Knowing how strong Jade is makes it all the more painful to see her like this—so small and scared and vulnerable. A hot rush of rage fills me as I think about the people who did this to her. People who think nothing of taking an incredible woman like Jade and hurting her. Treating her like something to be sold.
Jade whimpers in her sleep and I shove down the anger; moving across the couch so I’m close enough to croon softly, “You’re okay. It’s Niall, you’re in my apartment, and you’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
At first I’m worried it’s going to turn into another nightmare, but she settles at the sound of my voice. Then she turns toward me unconsciously, her features relaxing, and she shifts a few inches in my direction.
My heart gives a tug.
But this isn’t the right time.
Years ago, I hurt Jade, and I’m not sure she’s forgiven me.
She’s been through a terrible, traumatic experience.
I’m just here to protect her.
That’s all.