She had belonged to him. The only person she’d every truly belonged to. And he’d belonged to her.

So what had happened?

None of this was adding up!

There was no faking the gut-wrenching grief and regret in Zack’s face when she’d told him what happened. He hadn’t been able to speak and when he had, tears had rolled down his cheeks and he’d crawled to her, unable to stand. A proud, arrogant, dominant male, crawling to her just so he could gently touch her face. So he could apologize and beg forgiveness for something he’d sworn to her he hadn’t done.

None of this made any sense in her already senseless world. The only question that stood out to her during this whole thing was . . .

What if he hadn’t done it? And what if because she ran from him twelve years ago without hearing his side of the story, he now hated her every bit as much as she’d hated him?

She closed her eyes and warm tears slid soundlessly down her cheeks. That one word held a wealth of meaning. Capitulation. Surrender. Admittance of wrongdoing. God. Was she crazy?

She had said she’d hated him. Past tense. As if that were no longer the case and she loved him still. Did she? Had she ever truly stopped loving him even in the darkest moments of her grief and despair? It was a question that disturbed her on many levels.

But the one thing that kept creeping into her consciousness, despite her best effort to keep it at bay, was the fact that he’d been so vehement in his denial that he’d had any part in her rape. And God, he’d seemed so sincere. What if she’d been wrong? All these years?

Nausea and unease churned in her stomach.

“Gracie?”

Eliza’s soft voice interrupted the volatile mix of Gracie’s thoughts. “I know you’re upset, but please just give Zack a chance. He’ll be home in a few hours. His flight was delayed and he was furious because he wanted to be here for your doctor’s appointment. But he’s coming.”

Gracie’s thoughts immediately shifted to Eliza as overwhelming fear and anxiety swept over Gracie. Should she tell Eliza what she’d “heard”? And had she heard anything at all except her own scrambled imagination?

She bit into her lip, not knowing what she should do. Wondering if she was losing her mind after so long trying to keep it together and survive.

“Gracie?”

This time it was Wade who softly spoke her name. There was concern and a slight edge to the softness. She glanced up to see his eyes sharp, taking in every aspect of her appearance, almost as if he were reading her thoughts.

But he didn’t need her gift to read people. He was very discerning and had an uncanny knack for reading people. Their intent. Whether they posed a threat or not. And given that she was the only person he’d allowed close, to her knowledge, she must have some way passed his scrutiny.

Several things came to her at once. Voices. Random echoes. It overwhelmed her and she clamped her hands over her ears as if to somehow shut out the barrage of thoughts around her. Oh God. She wasn’t crazy. It was coming back.

She closed her eyes tightly, because given a choice between the two, she would have preferred to be crazy.

TWENTY-EIGHT

GRACIE paced the interior of the safe house, tension growing increasingly more difficult to bear. Her palms were sweaty, her pulse raced and her respirations were rapid and light, making her dizzy.

Where was Eliza?

They’d split off several hours ago as they’d left the clinic. Eliza had stated she needed to retrieve her laptop from her home, run by the office to do some digging and then she would be back at guard duty at the safe house. She anticipated an hour and a half, two at the most. That had been four hours ago.

Gracie had a very sick feeling that she wasn’t crazy. That she had recovered some of her powers and that everything she’d “heard” in the doctor’s office was indeed directed at Eliza.

She glanced Isaac’s way. He’d been given guard duty in Eliza’s absence. He didn’t seem unruffled or worried in the least. Wade, however, wore a grim expression and seemed deep in thought. Was he worried like Gracie was? Or was he contemplating something altogether different?

There was at least one other DSS agent outside the house. Where, she wasn’t sure. But she knew he was carefully watching the house. It should make her feel safe, but she couldn’t rid herself of the horrible feeling that she was no longer even a target and that the focus had now been shifted to Eliza.

What if she was already in the hands of the people who’d abducted and beaten Gracie, and by account, had also taken and done grievous harm to Ari, Beau Devereaux’s wife?

Her pacing sped up and she turned quick turns, walking back and forth in a short line, her mind trying to come up with a possible solution. If she just blurted out to Isaac that she used to be able to read minds, but then couldn’t—but oh wait, now all of a sudden she seemed to be regaining her power, and oh, by the way, I think Eliza is in great danger—he’d think she was a raving lunatic.

Not to mention if she got them all hot and bothered and focused on Eliza and something did happen, Gracie would be responsible.

And yet the growing dread wouldn’t leave her. It only swelled until her chest was constricted and she could barely draw breath. The images of Eliza had horrified her. Was that what she was enduring even now?

She shook her head. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—simply shake this off. Eliza had been kind to her, had put her life on the line to protect someone she didn’t even know. She was loyal to Gracie because, in her words, Gracie was important to Zack, thus it made Gracie important to the rest of DSS. Gracie wouldn’t reward such selflessness by remaining silent out of fear of being wrong or thought a lunatic.

An idea popped into her head, so crazy and ridiculous that it was absolutely . . . brilliant. Her breath hitched in excitement. Of course! She knew exactly how it could be determined if Eliza had been kidnapped, if she was suffering. And they certainly had the tools to mount a full-scale assault and take out every single person responsible for the harm that had come to DSS, as well as take out anyone associated with them.

And it had nothing to do with a single DSS agent. No, the real power and skill for this operation was in the women who’d married DSS agents: Ramie, who could discern Eliza’s location by simply touching an object belonging to Eliza; and Ari, whose powers were enormous and not even fully tapped yet. There was no telling just what she was capable of, but she’d already taken on these men once, and annihilated an entire compound in the process. And Gracie . . . Her powers weren’t as awe-inspiring or as helpful as Ramie’s and Ari’s, but she could read minds, and if there was pertinent information to be had, a way to bring about the complete end to this madness, then she could be of some small help.