Safe at Last

His initial shock was quickly replaced by anger as everything welled up. All the fear and grief he’d lived with for so long. And to be greeted like this? As if she hadn’t been a major part of his life. Like he hadn’t loved her for most of his life, and she wasn’t the only woman he’d ever loved.

“My God, I thought you were dead, or hurt or somewhere out there suffering, that you needed me,” he ground out. Jesus, he felt like a complete fool for thinking she’d ever needed him. What had changed? She’d been his world and he thought he’d been hers as well. He needed to know why. Didn’t he deserve that much, at least?

“You disappeared off the face of the earth. What was I supposed to think? Didn’t I at least deserve a goodbye, have a nice life?” He nearly choked on the last part. “Not even a ‘fuck off,’ or ‘see you later’? No, you just disappeared, leaving me to think the worst. For twelve fucking years I’ve thought the worst. For twelve fucking years I’ve gone to bed every goddamn night sick at heart because I thought I had failed you in some way. That I hadn’t been there when you needed me and that some sick fuck had hurt you, kidnapped you or murdered you. And all this time you’ve been happy as a lark, painting and moving on with your life while I’ve spent the last twelve years turning the earth over looking for you?”

She was pale as death and looked as though she was going to be sick. She was actively seeking escape routes, her gaze darting quickly but never meeting his, and God, he didn’t think he could bear to see the fear in those eyes again.

Why the fuck was she afraid of him?

“Get out,” she rasped, tears choking her voice. “God, just get out!”

Tears welled in her eyes and silently slid down her cheeks, and despite his rage and sense of helplessness, his insides twisted, because no matter that she obviously had dumped him and moved on, his first instinct was to comfort her because damn it, he couldn’t bear to see her cry. Couldn’t bear to see her hurting.

And the fact that he was evidently the cause of her distress?

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Zack whirled around in response to the male roar to see Wade Sterling standing just inside the studio, a murderous expression on his face. But as his gaze drifted to Gracie, his expression immediately became one of concern.

And what really pissed Zack off was that Wade immediately crossed the room positioning himself solidly between Gracie and Zack, and then, keeping his eyes on Zack the entire time, he firmly pushed her behind him. Just as he’d done at the gallery. A clear protective measure, as if Gracie needed protection from Zack. Of all people, Zack.

Sterling’s stance was aggressive as he stared Zack down, clearly poised for a fight. And Zack was spoiling for one. There was nothing more he’d love than to knock the bastard on his ass so he’d take his hands off Gracie. But he couldn’t afford to lose his shit a second time because God help him, he might not get a third. She might do just what Eliza had predicted and run. He couldn’t lose her again. Not after finding her after so very long. Once had been devastating. Twice? He wouldn’t survive. Not this time, under these circumstances.

“Why the fuck are you so afraid of me, Gracie?” Zack asked quietly. “You at least owe me that much.”

Gracie emitted a strangled sound and it only served to further piss Sterling off. She wouldn’t even get out from behind her “protector” long enough to look at Zack, much less offer any sort of explanation.

“I owe you?” she said with a sob. “God, just leave me alone. Haven’t you done enough? You think I owe you anything after what you did? You ruined my life! You betrayed me. God, I can’t even wrap my head around why you’d even bother to look for me unless that once wasn’t enough. Or maybe you just wanted to finish the job.”

She completely broke down, her composure melting. Sterling half-turned to put his arm around her in a gesture of comfort and when he looked back at Zack, there was absolute fury in his eyes.

“Look, I get it,” Zack bit out. “You’ve moved on. You have a boyfriend, lover or whatever. But I have to say you have a shitty way of breaking things off with someone you supposedly cared about.”

Sterling cut off any response Gracie might have made, though Zack doubted she would have responded because she was openly crying. It was a knife to Zack’s heart. In all the ways he imagined seeing her again, this was never the way he imagined it going down.

“Gracie and I aren’t romantically involved, not that it’s any of your goddamn business,” Sterling bit out. “I’m her friend. And as her friend, I look out and protect what is mine. You’ve got two seconds to get the fuck out of here and so help me God, if you come within a hundred yards of her ever again I’ll slap a restraining order on you so fast your head will spin. If you violate that restraining order, I’ll spend every dollar I own to ensure you never see the light of day again.”

“You and what fucking army?” Zack said in a deadly quiet voice. “If you’re her friend, then this has nothing to do with you. This is between me and Gracie and you need to butt the hell out. I’m not going to hurt her. Jesus Christ, I’d never hurt her. I loved her. I’ve loved her forever.” His voice cracked as he said the last, and he broke off to save himself the humiliation of breaking down in front of them both.

“You disgust me,” Sterling sneered. “It’s obvious she wants nothing to do with you, so take the hint and get the hell away from her and stay away.”

“I’d rather hear what Gracie wants from Gracie,” Zack said pointedly. “She owes me that much.”

For the first time, Gracie stepped to the side of Sterling, her face red and tear-stained. Zack’s heart clenched and his fingers curled into tight balls at his sides. He stared at her, really stared, absorbing every detail about her.

She’d always been beautiful but now she was even more so. Hauntingly so. She was thinner. She’d lost the glimmer of youth in her face and her eyes looked so much older than he remembered. As if she’d endured hell and back and had aged far beyond her years.

Her hair, which had always been shoulder length, with layers and bangs, was much longer now, the bangs gone, and as he studied her further, he realized she was really thin. There was a fragile, delicate air to her that had never been present even when she’d lived and endured terrible conditions.