Page 12 of Protected from Malice (Blade and Arrow Shadow Team #1)

EDEN

It’s hard to believe this is really my life.

Two years ago, I thought I’d experienced the worst it could get.

A one-two punch of horrible-ness in a matter of months.

But after that, I did everything I could to get through it. Counseling. Self-defense classes. Moving out of my apartment complex with the vast parking lots and into a house with an attached garage. Using puzzles as a coping mechanism. Keeping busy with work to the verge of obsession.

And with Indy, I threw myself into his recovery—calling the top specialists in the country and nagging them until they agreed to see him, saving my money and creating fundraisers Indy never knew about so we could afford to get him a prosthetic that would give him back as much mobility as possible.

But after that, I really thought my streak of bad luck was over.

I even tried to convince myself that the strange things I kept noticing over the last month were all in my head. That they were just symptoms of my PTSD and nothing to get worked up about.

It almost worked, ?until that truck nearly ran me off the road.

Then someone broke into my house.

Broke into my hotel room.

Claimed he was sent there to abduct me. To kill Rafe if he got in the way.

I can’t pretend it’s all in my head anymore.

And while Rafe had things in the hotel room handled, there’s no guarantee he won’t end up in danger again because of me.

Yes, I know he’s a bounty hunter. I know his job is dangerous. I knew what he did in the Army was dangerous. But that didn’t mean I liked it. Or that I don’t feel incredibly guilty that he’s putting himself at risk to protect me.

When he says he won’t let me get hurt, I believe him. But at what cost? Will he sacrifice his own safety? His health? His life?

As I watch Rafe hustle around our new hotel suite—this time on the fifth floor of a highrise in downtown Portland—setting up his security system again, a fresh wave of guilt sweeps over me.

Rafe should be back home in Corpus Christi, enjoying his well-deserved time off of work.

He should be hiking or taking his boat out on the Bay, soaking up the sun and relaxing.

He shouldn’t have to be dealing with a second police visit in less than twelve hours, facing more scrutiny as if he’s the one who wanted to hurt me.

But he’s here. Because of me.

He could have been cut by the knife that man— Greg —was carrying.

Indy’s going to blame Rafe for keeping this a secret instead of me.

And I’ve been keeping the biggest secret of all. One I was so certain had nothing to do with this, but now… I’m not sure.

Who would want to abduct me? Why?

My heart speeds up as I allow myself to consider the terrible possibilities.

It could be random.

It could have something to do with my project at work, I suppose. New drugs are big money, and if mine passes all the clinical trials, it could make some of the other treatments obsolete.

Or it could all come back to what happened two years ago.

As much as I don’t want to talk about it, as much as I dread telling Rafe, it’s irresponsible not to.

Cold creeps through my body, making me shiver. Goosebumps crawl up my arms and legs. The coffee and donut I forced down in the car on the way here coagulate into a heavy lump in my stomach.

Rafe turns away from the window, where he’s tacking up the last of the tiny motion sensors he’s installed throughout the suite. I’ve been watching him silently, trying to focus on the flex of his tattooed arms and the breadth of his wide shoulders instead of the turmoil going on in my head.

I’ve been trying to recapture those moments when we were watching TV together, laughing quietly at the ridiculousness of the contestants but later picking our favorites and rooting for them. When he put his arm around me for just a little while, all the bad things in my life disappeared.

I’m trying to drag out those fuzzy memories of his hand on my head and what felt a lot like his fingers stroking through my hair. Of his voice, still low and rumbly, but with a gentleness that struck a chord deep inside me, reassuring me that I was safe. That he wasn’t going anywhere.

There were even a few times when I wondered if he felt a fraction of what I have for years. If he ever thought of me as more than just Indy’s sister. If he…

It doesn’t matter, though.

Once I tell him, everything will be different.

He won’t look at me the same.

“Eden?” Rafe sets down the handful of wires he’s holding and heads back across the room towards me.

He looks more rumpled than usual, which makes sense considering he’s been up for at least twenty-four hours by now.

And that’s not even taking into account the altercation in the hotel room or kicking down two doors back at my house.

“Eden?” he repeats. His brows pull into a deep V as he approaches. “Are you okay?”

A beat later, he grimaces. “Shit. What am I saying? Of course you’re not okay.”

“I’m fine.”

Lie. I’m the furthest thing from it.

Rafe stares at me for a few seconds. His already somber expression clouds.

Slowly, almost as if he thinks he’ll startle me, he comes over to the bed and sits at the end of it.

“What can I do?” he asks. “Are you hungry? They have room service here, so I can order something. Do you want something to drink? Tea? Water? Coffee? Whiskey?”

What I really want is for him to hold me.

Really hold me.

Because in this whole screwed-up mess, Rafe is the only part that makes sense.

“Shit, Eden.” His features crease in apology. “I guess we should talk about it.” A sigh, and then heavily, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see that.”

It’s so incongruous to what I was thinking, it takes me a second to respond. “Sorry about what?”

“What I did. To the guy at the hotel.”

My brow wrinkles in confusion. “You mean stopping him from abducting me? From trying to kill you? Why would you be sorry about that?”

Rafe hesitates before sighing again. “Because I hurt him, Eden. I broke his fingers. His jaw. I threatened to kill him.”

I move a few feet towards him. “But you needed information. And he didn’t want to give it to you. Plus, he’d just broken into our hotel room. He had a knife , Rafe.”

“I know.” His smile is rueful. Grim. “I’m not sorry I did it.

If I’d just turned him over to the police, he would have lawyered up.

We might never have gotten the truth. We definitely wouldn’t have his phone.

Or a number to trace.” He mutters a low curse.

“Though I’d put money on it being a burner phone.

All the fucking criminals are using them now. ”

“I’m not sorry you did it either.” It’s the truth. Was it a little jarring to see Rafe like that, so intimidating and dangerous? Yes. But it didn’t scare me. I understood why he did it.

And actually, it was kind of sexy—Rafe all dark and intense as he defended me, his voice all growly and his eyes flashing with anger…

In hindsight, it makes me wonder how intense he’d be if we ever had sex. If his eyes would burn into me with a passion like nothing I’ve ever experienced. If he’d?—

“Are you feeling alright?” Rafe touches my cheek briefly before jerking his hand away. “You look flushed.”

Eeep.

“I feel fine,” I reply quickly, while silently commanding my cheeks to go back to normal.

He frowns.

“I’m not sick,” I amend. “And I’m not upset with you about what happened back at the hotel.”

“I didn’t want you to see that, though. Me being so violent. And it put you in a bad spot. You lied to the police to cover for me, for fuck’s sake.”

I move another foot closer. “You were protecting me, Rafe. And that guy… he deserved it. He deserved worse than what you did. And…”

“What?”

“I was glad you punched him. I was glad you broke his fingers. You weren’t the villain, Rafe. You were the hero.”

Rafe blinks at me.

He swallows hard.

“I’m not a hero, Eden,” he finally replies roughly. “Far from it.”

“Yes, you are.” I reach over to him and cover his hand with mine. “You were my hero. And nothing you say can convince me otherwise.”

An unreadable emotion moves across his face.

“I don’t know about that.” His gaze slides to the window and back again.

“So. Indy won’t be here until this evening at the earliest. And I’ve got a conference call with Cole and some of the other Blade and Arrow guys set up for noon.

Which means we’ve got a few hours to kill.

Do you want room service? Or we can check out the mini-bar. My treat.”

The thought of Indy’s arrival fills me with both anticipation and dread. Rafe called him the second the police left, filling him in on the basics, and after some yelling that was loud enough to hear across the room, Indy announced he was coming to Portland as soon as he could.

Then Indy talked to me, and the disappointment in his voice was almost worse than yelling. “Why didn’t you call me?” he asked. “I would have come right away if I had known you were in trouble.”

But how could I tell my older brother I was trying to protect him?

I want to see him, but I’m afraid to tell him the truth, too.

“Brain?” Rafe laces his fingers between mine and gives my hand a little squeeze. “I just want to help. Can I?”

“I don’t like tea.”

Wait. Why did I say that?

“Um, okay.” Rafe looks at me, nonplussed. “No tea, then.”

“I think it tastes like potpourri,” I explain. “It’s not nice. And it leaves a weird aftertaste in my mouth.”

Amusement sparks in his eyes. “I don’t know that I’ve ever eaten potpourri. But I’ll take your word for it. We can get something else to drink, instead.”

“I tried it once. Back when I was a kid. We had a glass bowl that my mom would fill with potpourri around Christmastime. It smelled so nice, I thought it must taste good, too. But—” I make a face. “It didn’t.”

“I tried Crisco once,” Rafe admits. “I must have been ten or so. I was at a friend’s house, and his mom was baking. I thought the Crisco looked like?—”

“Frosting. I know.”