Whisper of Revenge (A Cape Trouble Novel Book 4) (24 page)

“Hannah!” a man’s voice called.  “Hold on.  I’m coming!”

Please don’t let this be a delusion
, she prayed.  To
see Elias again…  To have hope…

He reared in front of her, wet clothes plastered to his
body.  Lowering the beam to her waist, he saw the knot.  When she heard the
string of obscenities, she knew he was real.

He pulled the gag down to free her mouth and put his face
close to hers.  Even then he had to raise his voice.  “Where’s Fletch?”

“I don’t know.  I tackled him and he fell.”

“We need to go.”

Hannah shook her head and took a step away from the column
so he could see.  “Tied.”

More swearing, and he set to work on the knot.  Her own
hands felt like blocks of wood.  Maybe her circulation had been cut off by the
cuffs.

A frighteningly big wave crested.  Hannah cried out a
warning.  Elias grabbed her and braced himself against the rock shaft.  As the
water receded, he released her and went back to work, not wasting any more breath
to swear.

“Got it!” he said suddenly, but the next wave was equally
high.

They wouldn’t make it, she knew, but then saw him wave his
flashlight in an arc, over and over again.  And…could that possibly be a light
being waved in response?

*****

They had to risk picking their way closer to shore.  Elias
didn’t think they dared wait this far out for a rescue that would take too long
to mount.

He didn’t know how she was still standing.  Blood mixed with
the salt water on Hannah’s ripped clothing and streamed down her face.  New
rage rose in him at the sight of her hands, cuffed behind her back.  They were
swollen and bloody.

Once again, he put his mouth next to her ear and said,
“We’ll start toward shore.  They have ropes, but it will help if we’re closer.”

Her head moved to tell him she understood, even if she
hadn’t caught every word.

He knotted the loose end of the rope around his own waist,
allowing only about three feet between them.  The hell he was losing her, not
now.  Then he aimed the flashlight low, so they could both use the light to see
where to step, and started along the uneven rock shelf.

Once she started to topple and he turned, barely catching
her in his arms.  The next wave slammed into the rock, lifting the water to
their hips, bathing them in stinging spray.  Smaller than him, weakened, she
would have been dragged off the rocks if he hadn’t already been holding her. 
He forced himself to let her go and grimly started forward again.  A part of
him knew a floodlight had been set up and men strung together with a rope were
wading toward them, but his entire focus was on the next step, the next wave.

The angry surf seemed determined to keep them from
escaping.  It became the enemy.  When each wave receded, he hurried as much as
he thought Hannah could manage, then stopped to brace his feet and hold her
against the turbulent surge.

And then, suddenly, he was bathed in the light of a powerful
flashlight, and hands were reaching for them.  It was shock he felt as much as
exultation. 
We made it.

*****

Hannah opened her eyes and peered muzzily at the sunshine
pouring in between a crack in the blinds.  She blinked a couple of times.  Her
eyelids felt sticky.

Sun?

A creaking sound and a faint scuff suggested she wasn’t
alone.  Very carefully, she rolled her head on the pillow.  Pain, but not
unbearable.  The pole beside the bed holding an IV bag gave her an idea she’d
been doped up.

“You’re awake.”

She had to blink a few more times to focus on the man rising
from a chair at her bedside.  Elias, of course.

He looked a lot better than she felt, although she couldn’t
picture him ever looking awful, not with his body and face.  Oddly, he seemed
to be wearing blue scrubs.  She worked her mouth a little.  A sort of…burning
on her back and hips and knees and one side of her face made her hope they kept
the painkiller coming.

“You’re clean.”  Her voice sounded weird.

Laughter lit his silver gray eyes and carved lines in his
cheeks.  “I am.  They let me shower.  In fact, they encouraged me to shower.”

“Oh.”  Then why hadn’t they let her shower?  But her memory
unrolled like an old silent movie, reel by reel.  Falling on rocks.  Again. 
And again.  Rolling to hit Fletch’s shins, then again as she tried to regain
her footing.  That burning feeling meant she’d been scraped raw.  Only…her
fingers were numb.  Shouldn’t she be able to feel them?  With an effort, she
lifted one hand.  White gauze wrapped her wrist.  An IV needle was taped down
on the back of her hand.  More gauze wrapped her palm, and the fingers that
emerged from it were unpleasantly purple and swollen.  “Are they going to fall
off?”

She loved his low, husky laugh.

“No.  Give ’em a day or two.”  His face sobered.  “You
remember what happened?”

“I think so,” Hannah said uncertainly.  “You came for me.  How
did you know?”

“I guessed.”  Any amusement was gone; the bleak look on his
face was more familiar.  “If I’d guessed wrong…”

“But you didn’t.”

Anger and self-recrimination still darkened his face.  “He
had succeeded in killing Mackenzie there.  It…probably gave him a rush.  Why
not give it a rerun?”

She swallowed.

Mumbling under his breath, Elias produced a cup of water
with a straw.  He lifted the head of the bed enough for her to be able to take
a few swallows.  The water was tepid, but tasted heavenly.

“Wait.  You said ‘where’s Fletch’.  How did you know it was
him?”

He talked about things his mother said, his own memories,
and how they’d eliminated other possibilities one by one.

When he offered more water, she whispered no.  He hadn’t
said…but she had to ask.  “Fletch?”

Elias’s mouth tightened.  “His body washed ashore early this
morning.”

“I killed him.”  Hannah wasn’t exactly sorry, but…the
knowledge was something she’d have to grapple with eventually.

“The way he died was fitting.”  No sympathy, no regret,
showed on Elias’s lean face.  “You saved yourself.  You should celebrate.”

Yes.  She felt more apprehension about her next question. 
“Ian?”

Elias traced the line of her cheek and jaw with his
fingertips.  “He’s good.  He spent the night with his buddy, Walker.  I tucked
him in.  He knows you’re okay.  I’m guessing he’ll be showing up any minute.”

Not letting herself completely succumb to the pleasure of
his touch, Hannah gazed searchingly at him.  “He’s not hurt?  At all?”

“He was pretty hungry and scared for you.”  He hesitated. 
“He’s as bald as Captain Picard.  He was upset about it until I reminded him
about my mother shaving my head.”

Her mouth trembled into a smile.  “Because of the lice.”

Elias smiled, too.  “Yep.  Ian decided if I could survive
the humiliation, he could, too.  Plus, everyone knows he was kidnapped, so I’m
betting he’ll be a heroic figure to the other kids.”

He would.  She lay there thinking about how much Elias had
given away.  Did he know how his expression softened when he talked about Ian?

His fingers kept moving softly over her face, massaging her
temples, smoothing her forehead, stroking into her hair.  He was careful to
avoid every sore place, and she was discovering how many of those there were,
now that her head was clearing.  She tilted her head like a cat seeking more.

“I was scared,” he murmured.  “So damn scared.  Don’t do
that to me again, Hannah.”

A bubble of humor rose from somewhere deep inside her.  It
wasn’t quite a laugh, but almost.  “I’ll do my best.”

Suddenly, he wasn’t touching her anymore.  “He hurt you
because he hated me.  How did I never see how he felt?”

Hannah lifted her own hand to lay it on his hard,
clean-shaven cheek.  “Why would you ever have imagined anything like that?  He
told me…”  She bit her lip, then winced at the sting.

Elias scowled and reached for the call button.  “You need
ointment on your lips.”

“Not yet.”

Still frowning, he hesitated, then let go of the remote
pinned to her bedsheet.  “What did he tell you?”

As she told him that Fletch had envied and hated him from
when they were eight or ten years old, shock transformed his face.  He looked
older, worn.

“I must be blind.”

“No one saw it.  Not even your mother.”

“She did the year he lived with us, even though she didn’t
want to believe it.”

“He thought she loved him like a son.  He said that
otherwise…”  One more ugly thing.

He raised his brows.

“He would have killed her so that you’d be completely
alone.”  Despite the hovering pain, Hannah shook her head at his expression. 
“He was crazy.”

“He had a really shitty home life.  Maybe if I’d taken it
more seriously—”

Hannah made a rude sound.  “Knock it off.  No normal human
being would ever have guessed his crazy jealousy.  Lots of people grow up in
dysfunctional families, suffer abuse, without spending half a lifetime trying
to destroy someone who was mostly a good friend.”

“Mostly?”  One side of his mouth tipped up.

“So you were probably an arrogant jerk for a while.  You are
gifted, Elias.  In my own way, I’m as bad as he was.  I couldn’t understand why
you’d look at me twice.”  She squeezed his hand when he started to open his
mouth.  “Part of that was my own history.  Like Fletch, I had reasons to feel
inadequate.”

“Will I ever have to be nice to your ex-husband?” he
growled.

She took a deep breath for courage.  “Probably.  If, well,
you intend to be around.”

“You know I do.”  Anguish showed in the skin stretched taut
over sharp cheekbones, in the grim set of his jaw.  “Last night—”  He shifted,
letting her see the effort it took him to continue.  “I kept trying to picture
your smile.  It always felt like sunshine, when I hadn’t felt that kind of
warmth in years.  Hopeful, happy, a lot of things I’d forgotten existed.  The
worst part last night was that all I could picture was you desperately afraid
for your son.  The closest I could come to seeing your smile was remembering
Ian’s drawing of you.”

Her eyes stung as tears threatened.  She tried to smile but
knew it wobbled on her lips.  “I’m sorry.”

With a sharp exclamation, he bent and kissed her.  His lips
were as tender as his earlier touch had been.  When he lifted his head, he said
in a low, harsh voice, “There will be time for smiles, Hannah.  Most of what
you told me that morning was wrong.  What I feel for you—”  He cleared his
throat.  “It’s nothing I’ve felt before.  I’ve never really loved a woman. 
Maybe it’s too early to say this, but I started falling for you a long time
ago.  Everything I see in your smile, that’s what you are to me.”

Now she was crying.  His beautiful face became a blur.  The
tears stung when they reached her scraped cheek.

“Give me a chance,” he said roughly.  “We’ll take all the
time you want.”

Forgetting the IV, she clumsily swiped at her eyes and wet
cheeks.  Elias found a tissue and gently blotted the tears.  It hurt to think
of him believing he was meant to be alone.

“I’d like to kill that man all over again,” she muttered.

Elias wadded the tissue and dropped it on the rolling
table.  “Mama bear.”

“I killed him the first time for what he did to Ian and me. 
This time would be for you.”

And suddenly he was laughing again, letting her see the man
he could be.  When he kissed her, she felt the curve of his lips as they
lingered, and she gave herself up to the joy.

They talked some more, Elias sitting on the side of the
bed.  He’d already decided to clear the ruins of his house and then sell the
property.  “I’m thinking it’s too far out of town,” he said, and she knew he
meant for her and Ian.  He shrugged.  “I can build if I find the right piece of
land, or add a studio onto a house we like.”

We
.  Coming from him, it was such a powerful word.

Then Elias lifted his head.  “Brace yourself,” he murmured.

She heard the voice, high and excited, the running patter of
footsteps.  Ian erupted into the room, ready to dive onto the bed but caught by
Elias, who said, “Careful.  Your mom has lots of aches and pains.”

The sight of his bald head had her crying again, even as her
heart swelled until she didn’t think her chest had room to contain it.  Elias
lifted her son to sit beside her and started to step back.

Hannah’s tear-filled eyes met his.  “Stay.”

He went very still.  “You’re sure?”

“I’m very sure.”

His jaw muscles spasmed, and then he nodded.  When he sat on
the edge of the hospital bed, Ian leaned against him with the kind of trust
she’d been afraid to feel.

Maybe sometimes she still would be, but she’d seen deep
inside this man.  He was so damaged, and yet he’d given more to her and Ian
both than anyone else ever had.  More, she suspected, than he’d known he had
inside to give.

Her smile might still have been shaky, but it was a real
smile.  “It’s not like you can go home.”

His eyes held hers.  “I think I am.”

Ian swiveled to look up at him.  “What do you mean?  This
isn’t home!  It’s a hospital.  I didn’t like it here.  I bet Mom doesn’t,
either.  When are they going to let you go, Mom?  Do I hafta stay with Walker? 
I woke up lots of times and I wanted to go home even if he is my best friend.”

Elias and Hannah laughed.

Janice Kay Johnson is the author of more than ninety books
for children and adults, including the Cape Trouble novels of romantic
suspense.  Her first four published romance novels were coauthored with her
mother Norma Tadlock Johnson, also a writer who has since published mysteries
and children's books on her own.  These were "sweet" romance novels,
the author hastens to add; she isn't sure they'd have felt comfortable
coauthoring passionate love scenes!

Janice graduated from Whitman College with a B.A. in history
and then received a master's degree in library science from the University of
Washington.  She was a branch librarian for a public library system until she
began selling her own writing.

She has written six novels for young adults and one picture
book for the read-aloud crowd.  ROSAMUND was the outgrowth of all those hours
spent reading to her own daughters, and of her passion for growing old roses. 
Two more of her favorite books were the historical novels: WINTER OF THE RAVEN
and THE ISLAND SNATCHERS, written for Tor/Forge and now available in e-book
format for the first time.  The research was pure indulgence for someone who
set out intending to be a historian.

Janice raised her two daughters in a small, rural town north
of Seattle, Washington.  She spent many years as an active volunteer and board
member for Purrfect Pals, a no-kill cat shelter, and foster kittens often
enlivened a household that typically includes a few more cats than she wants to
admit to.

Janice loves writing books about both love and family —
about the way generations connect and the power our earliest experiences have
on us throughout life.  Her Superromance novels are frequent finalists for
Romance Writers of America RITA awards, and she won the 2008 RITA for Best Contemporary
Series Romance for SNOWBOUND.

Visit her website at www.JaniceKayJohnson.com.