Silvery morning light seeped around the blinds. Evan felt her stir and then watched her lashes flutter before she opened her eyes just a crack.
“Good morning,” he said, leaning forward and kissing her shoulder.
Her smile was gentle, innocent, maybe even slightly shy. Her eyes moved over his face, and he saw the moment she remembered everything that had happened just prior to the kiss that led them here. He’d held her afterward, and she’d fallen quickly asleep, likely needing the escape of slumber after the shock of what they’d discovered on Dow’s iPad and all the awful implications. She released a breath, lowering her gaze. “I’m so sorry,” she said again. “I’m so, so sorry.”
He reached out and moved her hair away from her face so he could see her better. He sighed. She was sorry for her loyalty, the trait that had in some ways kept bars between them long after they’d run through the desert together toward a partial freedom. She was sorry for hurting him and for the guilt she carried for wanting him, the sworn enemy of the people she’d loved most in the world. For the fact that the person she’d given her loyalty to might be partially responsible for the hell he had been through. He’d worked out the timeline in his head as the sun had risen, casting light over her skin, the woman he loved and always would. She was beautiful, and she was so torn in so many different directions. They’d seen each other’s souls, and maybe once you’d seen a soul, it belonged to you in some profound way that could be felt but not explained. He knew her. He understood every facet. She was imperfect, but so was he. She was fearful and extraordinarily brave. She was scarred inside, but she was his. It had been true then, and it was true now. It would be his greatest truth for the remainder of his days, and he would not deny it again.
“Water?” he asked, kissing her shoulder once more.
She nodded, propping herself on her elbow. “Yes, please.”
He got out of bed, completely unfazed by his nudity. She’d seen all of him, physical and otherwise. He grabbed two water bottles from his fridge and then returned to the bedroom, where she’d piled pillows behind herself and pulled the sheet up over her breasts. He felt a buzz in his groin and briefly considered pulling the sheet from her body and burying himself in her softness again, but they had important things to talk about that shouldn’t wait, not if they were going to break the curse of their fathers, and it was imperative that they did, because they had a child now too.
He handed her one of the water bottles, and they both uncapped theirs and took a drink. He set his on the nightstand and then pulled on the boxer shorts that were lying on the floor. Clothing would help keep his thoughts focused.
“How?” she asked. “My father . . . Dow . . . all of it. How did it happen?”
He got back into bed, propping his own pillows up against the headboard and turning toward her, glad she was on the same track as him. Grateful she was willing to accept the probability that her father had been involved in their abduction, no matter how much it had to be killing her.
“I’ve been trying to work it out,” he said. “I’ve been going over some possibilities while you slept, and there’s something missing.”
“What?”
“Well. My dad did ruin your father’s life. Your father hated him, he blamed him. But that had been true for many years. What set him off? What happened to make him do something so drastic?”
“So evil,” Noelle murmured, the trace of grief floating over her features. He wouldn’t try to placate her and tell her it was not. They’d both lived it, and honesty was vital here if they were going to get to the heart of the truth.
Yes, then, evil. What had made her father do something so incredibly evil?
“I didn’t see my dad a lot in the week before I was taken,” she said. “But he did seem off. I worried that he was sinking back into depression. But he seemed antsy too. I don’t know. My dad went through mood swings, and he had for years. He’d seen a therapist for a while, and it’d seemed to help.” She paused, looking troubled. “I wish I would have suggested he make an appointment, but . . . well, the way he was acting wasn’t abnormal, so mostly I hoped it would pass as it had before and just tried to stay busy. I was busy. But . . . yes, to . . . set you up to be tortured, he had to have come upon something new. It broke him. It bent his mind, and it made him do something appalling.”
Evan agreed that it had to be something new. The man had lived with his wife’s death, the knowledge of her betrayal, and the outcome of the trial that followed for many years. From what Evan understood, he’d just been getting his life back on track . . . was working regularly and managing his debt. His daughter was thriving in school. She hadn’t gone missing yet. So what happened? And if Evan himself had been the target, how and why had someone determined that Noelle be caged too? And with him? He knew they were missing something.