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CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

A lyssa's world was dark and heavy and painful.

From far away, someone said, “He killed her, Daddy. She’s dead. She’s dead.”

Who was dead?

Had she heard right? The sounds were strangely muffled.

A howl, long and tortured, twisted something inside her.

All was not well. She didn’t know what had happened, but somehow, it was her fault.

She’d failed. Again.

With that thought, she drifted away.

Hammering.

Someone was hammering, and each bang pounded in her head.

Wake up.

She had to figure out what was going on.

Where was she? What was she supposed to do?

Something, something vital. Something…

Scraping sounds. Voices.

“Daddy.” A little girl. She sounded like she was crying.

“I got you, I got you. It’s over.” The man’s voice was kind. She loved that voice. A few moments later, he said, “I’ll be right here, okay? I want to check on Alyssa.”

“I gotcha, little bit.”

Grant?

Suddenly, the heaviness was gone.

Cold, precious air filled her lungs. She sucked in.

“She’s breathing!”

More weight lifted.

Then, warmth against her face.

“Alyssa.” It was Callan. He sounded tortured. “Open your eyes. Open your eyes, darling. Please.”

She did, and it all came back to her. The beach house. The guns.

Benson.

He’d hit her, over and over.

Everything had gone dark.

Callan was here. But he’d said someone was dead. “Who is it? Peri?” No, that didn’t make sense. She’d heard Peri’s voice, hadn’t she?

“It’s me.” Callan crouched over her. “Thank God. Thank God. She’s alive, Gavin. She’s alive.”

“Is it Peri? I’m so sorry. I tried.”

“Is what…? Peri’s fine.” He shifted, giving her a view of Grant holding Peri, who was watching her with wide eyes.

Wide, beautiful, life-filled eyes.

“I don’t…” She pushed herself up. “You said someone was dead.”

“You. She thought… We thought…” Callan wrapped his arms around her, and she realized…

It’d been her. They’d thought she was dead.

The howl she’d heard…

Her father. Because he’d thought she was dead.

“Thank you. I’ll never… I can’t even…” Callan’s words trailed as he buried his head in her hair and held her. “Thank you.”

“I don’t even know… I didn’t do anything. This is all my fault.”

He leaned away to meet her eyes. “Alyssa. You’re alive. Peri’s alive.” His gaze flicked beyond her. “The drones?”

“Landing them now,” a man said.

That wasn’t a voice she knew, but it didn’t matter.

All was well. Somehow…

Somehow, they’d survived.

Callan pulled her close again, and she melted against him. It was over.

Thank You, God.

* * *

Outside the tiny bedroom that had been her prison, a whirlwind of activity. Men shouting, a helicopter landing.

Alyssa could do nothing but sit on the bed, back to the wall, and fight to stay conscious.

Callan had left to help with…whatever it was they were doing, his daughter clamped to him.

The door opened, and she expected him to step inside. But it wasn’t Callan. It was Dad.

She’d known he was there, then forgotten. Whatever was wrong with her brain, she prayed it wouldn’t be permanent.

Dad crossed the room and sat on the bed beside her.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I shouldn’t have?—”

“Thank God you’re all right.” He crushed her to his chest. “You saved that child’s life. And your life.”

His embrace made her head pound, but she didn’t tell him. She didn’t back away. She craved that embrace, had craved it since she was twelve years old.

He let her go and leaned back.

Her vision was a little blurry, but she thought she saw tears streaming from his eyes as he pressed his hands to her cheeks. “Alyssa. Are you with me?”

She must’ve looked horrible for him to ask. She worked very hard to focus. “I’m all right.”

His gaze flicked from one of her eyes to the other. “Hear me. I love you. I adore you. I’m so proud of you, of everything you’ve done. You’re brilliant. You’re kind and generous. You’re so, so brave.” His voice cracked. “I’m sorry I’ve done a lousy job of telling you that. I almost…I could’ve… If you’d died not knowing…” He pulled her against his chest again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

She didn’t know what to say, couldn’t form a response. There was no response to express what his words meant to her. She settled with the simple truth, the only truth that really mattered. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you, sweetheart. I always have.”

She rested in those words. Rested knowing she’d pleased her earthly father.

And her Heavenly Father, who’d saved her life.