Chapter 11
Shivering uncontrollably, Ysabel let Heath help her up the stairs to his friend”s apartment. He didn’t have to knock before a beautiful woman opened the door and stood aside, letting them in.
“We need to get her warm,” Heath said as he held her.
“The shower.” The woman led them through a beautifully appointed flat and into a bedroom with a large marble-lined shower. “I’ll get the towels in the warmer and put them outside the door. I’ll have food whenever you’re ready to come out. Hopefully, Smith will be home by then.”
“He’s the one who gave me this?” Ysabel touched the fine cotton shirt she was wearing.
The woman smiled. “Yes, he’s my husband.”
“He’s going to be all right,” Heath told her. “He’s too damn smart to be caught short.”
“Which is what I told you. I’m not worried, just pissed I couldn’t be there to kick some ass, too. I want to be with him, but I’m sure you understand.” Val smiled sadly and nodded to the shower. “Get her warm. I’ll call Con and get some clothes for you, H.”
“Ysabel has clothes at my place,” Heath called after her.
Val turned around. “I’ll get her some of her clothes, too. I’ll send a messenger service over to pick them up. Feel free to use anything in the bathroom or bedroom. I’ll leave everything outside the bedroom door.”
Ysabel watched the beautiful woman shut the door behind her. “She’s nice and so beautiful.”
“Beautiful on the inside as well as the out. She’s a good friend.” Heath chuckled. “Come on. We need to get you warm.” He walked with her into the bathroom, and she gasped when she saw herself in the mirror. “My God.” She walked over and stared at her reflection. Bruises mottled her face and under her eye. There was fresh blood from where she’d slammed her head into the low stone ceiling of the caverns while trying to escape. Her hair was nothing but knots and snarls, and she was filthy. Dirt smeared under her eyes where tears had formed clean streaks. Her body, arms, and hands were covered in dirt, and the filth under her broken fingernails showed when she’d tried to dig and pry herself out of that damn cell.
“A shower will help,” Heath said, guiding her back to the shower he’d turned on. Ysabel stepped out of her filthy slacks and panties and dropped the huge, borrowed shirt and her bra. She’d been naked in front of Heath so many times there was no reason to be bashful. Stepping under the water, she let the warmth flow over her.
She knew Heath entered the shower with her and leaned into him when she felt his strong arms band around her. There, under the fall of water, Ysabel leaned into the man she loved and let herself sob. The regret, the pain of her father’s treachery, and the fact that Heath had yet to say he loved her. Had she ruined everything? Had she lost her chance at a life with him?
She realized he was rocking with her under the spray of the shower’s water. “I’m so sorry.” Her voice trembled with the weight of her words and regret she couldn’t bear any longer.
“You tore my heart out.” His hoarse whisper made her cry harder. She could feel the hurt and damage consume the air around them like a tsunami, brutal, crushing, and deadly.
His confession made her tears fall faster, each pushing into a ripple that grew wider and wider. Words she never should have uttered had wounded them both horribly. “I know. I don’t know how to make it right.”
He continued to hold her in a gentle embrace and rock with her from side to side in a rhythmic dance that needed no music. “You don’t need to make it right. I couldn’t stop loving you. I never did. I never would. God knows I tried to forget, to move on, but I couldn’t. You’re the living part of my soul. I only existed without you; I didn’t live.”
She tightened her grip around his waist and held onto him as if he were her lifeline. “I love you, Heath.” Her whispered words were barely spoken, but their weight resonated with truth and honesty.
“I know,” he whispered. Small words that held forgiveness, understanding, and acceptance. She heard them and let them soak in, down to the deepest pain and most desolate places. To her heart that had withered and decayed without him.
He unwrapped one arm, and she felt him work the lightly scented soap up and down her back. When she stopped crying, he kissed her lips gently and turned her around. Heath washed her body with gentle hands, tenderly cleaning the large bruises on her legs and shoulders. She leaned back so he could shampoo her hair. The delicate floral fragrance perfumed the steam. He conditioned her hair, and while he let it work, he carefully washed her face, kissing each bruise as he uncovered it.
After rinsing out her hair, he turned off the water. Then he wrapped her in a huge bath sheet and set her at the vanity where he’d placed his phone and earpiece. Heath secured a towel around his waist and then worked a comb through her hair. She closed her eyes as he carefully fixed the tangles. As he worked, her mind floated back to what he’d said earlier. “What makes you think my father did this?”
Heath didn’t answer right away. “There are usually three things that cause people to act out of character. Money, love, or power. Which caused your father to act as he did is unknown.”
She sighed. “He has money, he has power, and I don’t believe he’s truly loved me or anyone as much as I wanted him to. I want to talk to him. To ask him why.”
When Heath stopped combing her hair momentarily, she opened her eyes, catching his gaze in the mirror as he spoke. “I’ll make sure you have that opportunity to speak to him, but please wait for me to arrange it. We don’t know who or what is involved with this situation, and there’s more going on than you know. More than I can tell you without permission from my superiors. I know you want answers, and so do I, but right now, we can’t make a move without compromising your position. You’re safe here. Smith and Val will ensure that, and there are very few I trust completely. They are two people who I do.”
“My mother’s message caused so much trouble.” She glanced down at the ring on her finger. “Why?”
Heath put the comb down and sat beside her on the bench. “Where did you get that?”
“The ring?” she asked as he looked at it and nodded.
“My mom. It was in the envelope.” She pulled it off and handed it to him. “My father would tell me to throw it away if he knew she gave it to me. It’s inexpensive. He detests cheap things.”
She watched as Heath turned on a light by the mirror and leaned in, examining the ring. “You told no one you had this, that it was in the envelope?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t see a reason to tell anyone. As I said, it isn’t expensive. Why?”
Heath turned to her. “Because I think I found the documents she claimed to have sent you.”
Ysabel frowned. “What? Where?”
“In the stone.” Heath pointed to the smoky grayish-black stone. “Entire books can be inscribed on a medium smaller than this.”
“What do you think is on it?” She stared at the ring, trying to see what he saw. “Wait, how can you see it? I don’t see anything. Are you sure?”
“See here when I hold it up to the light, that thin straight line going through the stone, that could be the flat, where the inscription is written. I may be way off here. It could be nothing, or …”
“Or it could be everything she said it would be,” Ysabel whispered.
“What exactly did she say was included in the documents?” Heath put the ring on the vanity and turned to her.
“Ah, I can’t remember the exact words. My father has the letter now, but she told me about giving birth to me in the States and included my original birth certificate. It was old and folded in a small square, yellowed on the outside folds like it had been tucked somewhere for a long time. Then she said she’d realized in the past ten years or so what Abrasha was doing. Abrasha is the name of my real father. She went back to him after she gave birth to me.” Ysabel sighed and dropped her eyes. “I can understand that type of love. I’d do anything to get back to you.”
Heath pushed her damp hair behind her ear. “I’d never ask you to give up our baby.”
Ysabel blinked and looked up at him. “How did you know that? How did you know he asked her to abort me? I didn’t tell you that.”
“Your father did when he was here asking for my help.”
Ysabel frowned. “Why would he do that?”
“He thought I was a government agent.” Heath put his forehead against hers.
“Why?” She tried to laugh, but it came out more like a sob.
“As a security specialist, I saw his private investigators. I easily avoided them, so he thought that made me a spy.”
Ysabel did manage to laugh at that. “You? A spy?”
“Right? Who would believe that? What did your mom say about the documents?”
She sighed and closed her eyes, her body suddenly very heavy. “That there was enough information to ruin him.” She yawned and folded against him. “I’m sorry, I’m so tired.”
“You’re crashing. It’s normal. Do you want to eat something before you go to sleep?”
She barely shook her head. The effort seemed to cost more energy than she had.
Heath gathered her into his arms, and she floated to sleep, warm and safe in his embrace.