I’m starting to worry about her lack of emotion, though. It’s like she’s completely shut down. Granted, she seems to have had a particularly tough week, but I still wonder if there’s not something to Damian’s concern for her. It looks and sounds like an overprotective big brother worrying about his younger sister, but perhaps it’s for good reason.

  I know a bit of the history behind Bella moving to Durango. I know she was involved with a guy from work, a doctor, who apparently was the subject of an investigation into several complaints of sexual misconduct at the hospital where they both worked. I also know the fucker took off, leaving her to face the fallout by herself. Things were bad enough, she ended up leaving her job. The douchebag had the balls to resurface last year, only to beg her to provide him with a fake alibi. If I didn’t know, for a fact, Damian made sure he would never bother his sister again, I might’ve done those honors myself.

  What I don’t know is: what happened in the months after she quit and before she came to Durango.

  “Give me your keys, Squirt.” I hold out my hand when we pull up in front of her house.

  This time she doesn’t even argue when I ask her, she just hands over the bag she’s been clutching in her lap. I dig out the keys, mildly surprised at what all she carries around in that plus-sized tote of hers. When I notice she’s not moving, I unclip her seat belt, and get out, rounding the truck to help her down from the cab.

  She doesn’t even object when I sling her bag over my shoulder and grab her hand as we walk up her steps.

  The instant I unlock the door, she slips past me and immediately turns right toward her bedroom. I rush after her to make sure it’s secure and walk in on her starting to undress by the side of the bed.

  “Give me a second to check,” I suggest, walking to the window to make sure it’s locked and closing the blinds.

  Clearly she doesn’t listen, because when I turn back, she’s stripped down to just her panties as she climbs onto the mattress. Fuck, I’m trying not to notice her heavy breasts with large dark aureoles, swaying with each movement as she gets settled in bed, but we can strike that as a fail. My eyes noticed, blood pressure noticed, and my fucking dick sure as shit noticed.

  Bella, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to notice a thing. She pulls the sheet over her ear as she curls on her side. I round the bed to her and press a kiss to the side of her head, my knuckles white with restraint. No matter how tempting it is to strip down myself and climb in with her, I’m not about to take advantage of a woman who currently is more like a zombie than a living, breathing human being.

  No matter how fucking breathtakingly gorgeous she is.

  Resigned, I snatch a throw from the bottom of the bed, and flick off the lights as I walk out, pulling the door shut. I check my phone for updates, before I pull off my boots and jeans, and finally get settled in for a couple of hours of sleep on her couch.

  Bella

  I’m numb.

  Frozen.

  I remember this feeling of desperately keeping the lid on the swirling emotions that lie just below the surface. The times when there is no longer anything there to distract me from the fact I’m sliding down a hole where darkness is waiting for me. Afraid if I let only a single emotion slip at this point, the chasm will rip open and swallow me whole.

  I wish for sleep to take me but am scared to let myself drift off. So I lie in bed—all concept of time forgotten—my eyes burning as I keep them open until the soft light of dawn filters in through the blinds.

  I don’t even move when I hear the sound of my bedroom door opening. I know it’s Jasper and steel myself not to let him see this side of me. The side that has branded me as the emotionally fragile one with my family. The side that feels too deep, and makes me wonder if I’m cut out to look after other people, when I can’t seem to look after myself. I fight every day to keep that side hidden, by working hard to prove I can handle the stress of my job, by battling insecurity with defiance and attitude. I try so hard not to live up to what I know the expectations are: an emotionally weak failure.

  “Have you slept at all?”

  Jasper’s blurry face appears in my line of vision, and I blink a few times to clear the grit. I don’t say anything, just look into the warm blue depths of his eyes and wish I could float away.

  “Jesus,” I hear him mutter.

  The mattress shifts as he climbs in beside me, and panic sets in when his arms come around me, cradling me to his warm chest. I remind myself that the feeling of safety in his embrace is not real. That the moment I let go, and he discovers the real me, he won’t see me the same way again either.

  “Let it go, beautiful,” he coos softly, his cheek firm against the top of my head. “Just let it go.”

  That’s all it takes; a few gentle words, a kind embrace, and my desperate hold on impassion rips away with the first strangled sob from my throat.

  The wave of churning shadows crashes over me.

  Jasper

  I fucking curse myself for leaving her alone in the first place.

  The moment I see her face with those sunken, red-rimmed eyes, I know she has not closed them yet. I fucked up.

  Her body is cold and stiff when I gather her against me, desperate to will some warmth into her soul.

  I thought she’d hold strong in her almost catatonic state, but when I encourage her to let go, the first sob breaks free. And another. And another. Each one deeper and more gut-wrenching than the last. Some so violent, her entire body convulses as they rip from her chest.

  I keep waiting for them to subside, but it’s endless and agonizing. The sun shines full into her window now, and when I check her alarm clock on the nightstand, I see over an hour has expired. This can’t be healthy.

  My phone is on the coffee table in the living room, where Bella’s purse is too.

  “Sweetheart.” I try to slip out from under her. “I’ll be right back, I promise.” The moment the warmth of my body leaves her, she curls back up in a ball, but the sobbing doesn’t wane.

  My first stop is the bathroom, to check if there are any meds she’s supposed to be taking, but other than ibuprofen and something for menstrual cramps, there’s nothing in her medicine cabinet. Next up is the kitchen, but that doesn’t hold much either.

  I need help.

  Any other person; I’d load them up and take them to the hospital, but if one thing hammered home last night, her job is everything to her. If I take her into Mercy when she’s in the middle of…I’m not even sure what to call this, but if I show up with Bella in this state, the entire hospital will know eventually. Even if it doesn’t put her at risk of losing her job, it will certainly impact her working relationships. I can’t do that to her.

  I dig through her purse to find her phone. Only one person, who might be able to help, and I don’t have his number.

  Locating the phone, I open her contacts and find Ryan’s name right below Damian’s.

  “How are you doing?”

  It’s clear from the sound of his voice, he was still sleeping, and he obviously thinks I’m Bella.

  “It’s Jasper Greene, I took Bella home this morning, and she’s not doing well. I’m gonna need your help.”

  “What do you mean, not doing well?” he asks, suddenly sharp.

  “She was out of it earlier, not sleeping but cold and unresponsive. But now…here, listen.” Rather than trying to explain, I hold up the phone and he should be able to hear for himself.

  “How long has she been like this?” he asks when I put the phone back to my ear. I can hear rustling in the background, like he’s getting dressed.

  “Well over an hour. I’d take her into the hospital, but⁠—”

  “Don’t,” he interrupts me sharply. “Let me see if I can help before you do that. Can you hold out for twenty minutes?”

  “I can. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

  Hanging up, I take the phone with me into the bedroom, where Bella lies much the same as I left her, still making the same god-awful noises. Like a tortured animal. I crawl back in bed with her, and like before, have to physically move her onto my chest.

  Almost thirty minutes later, when I hear the front door open, I’m about ready to fucking cry myself. I can’t remember ever feeling as fucking useless as I’ve felt in the past couple of hours.

  Or maybe I just never cared enough.

  “Sorry,” Ryan says walking in, and I belatedly realize Bella is virtually naked in my arms. Quickly I pull the sheet up to cover her as best I can. I’m not sure what the man thinks as he’s taking in the situation, and frankly I don’t give a flying fuck, as long as he can do something for her. “I had to swing by the hospital to get something from the rig.”

  I flinch when he comes over to the side of the bed and leans over me to brush the hair plastered to Bella’s face. If not for my concern for her, this might’ve been awkward.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” he tries to get through to her. “Shit just hit the fan, huh? Gonna give you some good stuff to help you sleep. You need to get you some rest.” There is no distinct reaction noticeable from Bella, but Ryan doesn’t seem to expect it. He opens the small bag he carried in on the nightstand, and pulls out a prefilled syringe while keeping up his continuous chatter. “You’ll probably have my balls later for sticking a needle in you, but it can’t be helped. And at the risk of completely alienating you, I will notify our supervisor that you seem to have come down with a nasty case of strep throat, and will be off for at least a week.” He wipes an area of Bella’s upper arm with a disinfectant, and slides the needle easily into her skin.

  “What are you giving her?”

  “Midazolam. It’s fast-acting. Don’t worry, I’m only giving her half a dose, hopefully just enough to help her sleep.”

  In minutes, she settles down a little, her eyes closed and the sobbing down to an occasional involuntary hiccup.

  “Now is probably a good time to grab a shower, I’m going to stick around for another forty-five minutes or so, to make sure she has no adverse effects, but she can’t be left alone today, someone will have to check in on her regularly.”

  “How long do you figure she’ll be out?” I ask, when I feel her body go heavy with sleep and gently slide her head off my chest and onto her pillow.

  “Hard to tell. The drug alone, not necessarily that long, but given that she was already exhausted, I wouldn’t be surprised if she slept the day away.”

  “I can work from here,” I say, more to myself than anyone else, as I make a mental list of what I will need either Dylan or Luna to drop off.

  As suggested, I grab a quick shower, after supplying Ryan with a well-deserved cup of coffee I manage to wrangle from Bella’s Keurig machine.

  “She seems to be comfortable, but call me if anything changes,” he offers, when he’s ready to go a little later. “My shift doesn’t start until three, but I’ll call in to check how things are before that.”

  I shake the man’s hand and clap a hand on his shoulder.

  “Appreciate it. I hope this won’t get you into hot water.”

  “Nah,” he answers with a grin, brushing it off. “Not unless you or Bella decide to spill the beans.”

  “No chance of that happening.”

  “Figured as much.” I expect him to leave but he hesitates in the doorway. “Look, you realize she may need help that extends beyond this, right? She’s never come right out and admitted to it, but I’ve suspected there are emotional issues she struggles with. She’s a damn good partner, and I’d hate to lose her because she is not taking care of them. I don’t know who you are to her, but from what I can see, you care. I suggest you get her to talk to someone this week. She may need medication to help her cope.”

  “I’ll see to it,” I promise. “I care more than I probably should.”

  NINE

  Bella

  I wake up with a pounding headache, eyes caked shut, a dry throat, and a bladder that is about to burst. This time without the pleasure of a bottle of wine and pint or so of ice cream.

  Bits and pieces are coming back to me, most of them ones I’d rather have forgotten. Yet somewhere in between those was the memory of a pair of strong arms and soft words, which somehow kept me from getting sucked under completely.

  Swinging my legs over the side, I sit up, holding onto my head for fear it’ll explode. A glance at my nightstand shows it’s close to four. Shit, I slept the day away.

  I reach for my old ratty robe and make my way to the bathroom on wobbly legs. While relieving my bladder, I rummage through the drawers of the vanity looking for relief of another kind. I’m positive I had some ibuprofen left somewhere. I find it in the medicine cabinet and palm four. I’m not even sure that’ll make a dent in this doozy of a headache.

  With drugs on board, my mouth no longer tasting like the bottom of a trashcan, and a splash of cold water on my face, I feel somewhat human. I need coffee.

  “Hey, sweetheart.”

  Startled, my head swivels around a little too fast at the rumble of Jasper’s voice when I walk into the kitchen. It was so quiet in the house, I thought he might have left.

  “Hey,” I manage just seconds before I’m enveloped in those arms I remember. My arms slips around his waist where my fingers curl in the back of his shirt.

  One of his big hands slowly rubs up and down my spine, making me want to purr like a cat. Despite the danger signs popping up, I nuzzle deeper in his shirt.

  “Coffee?”

  Dammit. He even knows the magic word.

  Reluctantly, I let go as he walks over to my Keurig and hits the button. Clearly he’d been prepared, a mug already slowly filling.

  “Sit,” he orders, noticing me swaying on my feet.

  I perch my ass on a stool and lean over, dropping my head on my arms on the counter. It’s tempting to close my eyes and let myself drift off again, but I know sleep is just a way for me to hide.

  The tender brush of fingers through my hair has my eyes well up. I can’t believe he stayed. After my meltdown, I thought for sure he’d be running for the hills, but as he’s done more than once recently, Jasper is proving to be nothing like the man I believed him to be, and everything like the man tentative dreams are made of.

  His fingertips gently trace the scab left by my encounter with the underside of my car last week, reminding me of yet another instance where he looked after me. Of course, just minutes later he kissed me, only to walk out the door and drop off the face of the earth until yesterday. I’m not sure who he was running from; me or himself.

  Afraid to fall under his spell again, I raise my head and his hand falls away.

  “How are you feeling?” He scans my face with concern.

  “Like I was run over by a freight train.”

  “I bet.” He grins and again he reaches out, brushing a stray strand from my forehead. I’m mesmerized, getting lost in his eyes, until the welcome gurgle of my Keurig announces my much-needed coffee is ready.

  “Black. Right?” I nod at his question, a little surprised. I guess being an FBI agent you’re required to have above normal powers of observation.

  He hands me my cup and I wrap my hands around it, taking a grateful sip.

  “What do you remember?” he asks, as he drops another dark roast cup in the machine and sets his mug under the drip.

  The question may have come out casually, but that doesn’t hide the weight behind it. It’s a clear invitation to talk, to share…to explain. I’m not sure I want to, in fact, I’m pretty sure I don’t, but I also don’t want him to go to Damian to get answers, and he deserves at least some.

  “Well, it’s clear I had a little meltdown,” I start, not just a little defensively, and working to put the usual snap in my tone. “I’m sure my low resistance after that bout of stomach flu, didn’t help.”

  “I didn’t know you were sick,” he comments, almost accusatory as he turns to face me.

  “Flu. Just went back to work on Tuesday.”

  “And you didn’t call me?” I’m surprised he looks as irritated as he does.

  “For what?” I feel a good head of steam build. “You’re the one who ran out of here like you were being chased the night before I got sick, and yet you expect a call? Why? So you can be a knight in shining armor? You like swooping in and playing the hero. I’m sure it does wonders for the ego. Except apparently your armor disappears at the stroke of midnight.”

  I know I’m using attack to deflect from the conversation he was aiming for, it’s an ingrained response for me; an automatic defense mechanism that seems to kick in when I feel cornered.

  “At midnight, huh?” he says, dripping with sarcasm as he sharply sets his cup down on the counter and checks his watch. “Then I guess my ego overstayed its welcome.”

  In three large strides, he’s across the living room and out the front door, leaving me to gape after him with my mouth hanging open. The sharp sound of the door slamming shut has me jump in my seat, and I immediately regret my words.

  For crying out loud, the man had walked away from the job, just to see me home. Stayed with me to make sure I was okay, and called help when he discovered I wasn’t, still not leaving my side.

  I’m a bitch. A grade A, bona fide bitch. So afraid I’ll get hurt, I lash out and make sure I do injury first. It’s no wonder only my family tolerates me. No friendships I’ve ever had stood the test of time, I even fail at those.

  My head drops back down on my arms, and this time I make no effort to stop the tears, as the destructive thoughts play on repeat in my mind.

  A warm hand touches the middle of my back and slides up to settle on the back of my neck. Jasper’s voice is firm but kind.

  “That’s enough of that.”

  Jasper

  I had to get some air before I’d say something I might regret later.

  To say my day had not run smoothly would be an understatement. Luna had been at the office early and kindly dropped off my files and laptop, plus a change of clothes from my locker. All I told her in explanation was that Bella was feeling under the weather, but I don’t think she quite believed it. Luna had been there last night; she would’ve noticed Bella’s robot-like behavior and drawn her own conclusions. Nothing I could do about that. Typical Luna, she didn’t ask any questions, just gave me a brief update on the status of the investigation and promised to call with anything new.

 

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