Tears pricked her eyes, and she buried her face in his neck. He smelled like Ethan. Strong and steady.
He kissed her hair and simply held her until finally she pulled away. His hand came out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear in a tender gesture.
“How you feeling?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I’m . . . I’m a little scared.”
Ethan’s hands crept over her shoulders, and she turned instinctively into the shelter of his arms. He pressed a kiss to her temple. “There’s no need to be afraid, baby. You’re home now with people who love you.”
“Come on. I’ve got the truck waiting,” Sam said.
Rachel watched as he and Garrett picked up the few bags that Ethan and Garrett had brought back with them, and then they headed toward an SUV parked several feet away. Ethan gave her a squeeze and then urged her forward.
She walked almost mechanically, unable to process the bizarre feeling that this was all normal, or it should be. After months and months of fear and captivity, she was free. Back in the regular world. She’d resume her life as if it hadn’t been on hold for the last year. As if the people who loved her hadn’t gone on with their lives without her.
Garrett piled into the front while Ethan ushered her into the back and then crawled in beside her. Sam got into the driver’s seat and pulled away from the small landing strip.
It could hardly be called an airport. It was a tiny airstrip in the middle of acres of farm ground. There were only two hangars, one larger and one much smaller, and they were just tin buildings.
Their truck kicked up a cloud of dust as they drove away. Moments later, Sam pulled onto a paved highway and sped up. Rachel looked curiously out her window, hoping something—anything—would register with her.
After several miles, she gave up. It looked like any place. She could be anywhere.
Rachel leaned into the curve of Ethan’s arm, and he immediately tightened his hold on her.
“You okay?” he murmured.
She nodded. She hadn’t completely shaken off the effects of her withdrawal. The last several days had been harrowing, an experience she never wanted to repeat. There was still an aching emptiness, a hollow void begging to be filled, but it was more bearable now. And she refused to give in. She wouldn’t be the only weak one amid these strong warriors.
Ethan had stuck by her side—he and Garrett. They’d taken turns holding her when she screamed and cried, when she’d begged for relief. At her most desperate hour, she’d pleaded with Ethan to get her the drugs.
He’d stood with her, fully clothed, in the shower when she’d been convinced she was covered with spiders. She still shuddered at the memory of the horrible creatures—hundreds of them—scuttling across her body.
After several seemingly endless days, the worst had been over. She was exhausted, and she knew Ethan and Garrett hadn’t fared much better.
“Where are we going exactly?” she asked. It was silly to ask. Ethan and Garrett had gone over the details of her homecoming numerous times, but she couldn’t help the anxiety that swam rivers through her mind.
She hadn’t realized that her hands were clasped together, her fingers twined so that the tips were white, until Ethan carefully pried them apart and laced her fingers with his.
“We’re going home. To our house, baby.”
She tried so hard to bring an image of their house to mind. Just a brief glimpse, something to tell her that she had a connection to the place she’d lived with her husband.
“I can’t remember,” she said in frustration.
Garrett turned in his seat, reached over to touch her knee, and as he’d done so many times over the last few days, he offered comfort with just a few well-placed words.
“You’re trying too hard, sweet pea. Relax and let it come to you. Even if you don’t remember now, there’s nothing to say that when you walk inside your own place, that it won’t all come back. And if it doesn’t? So what. You have all the time in the world.”
She let go of Ethan’s hand and grasped Garrett’s, squeezing with all her might. “Thank you. I love you.”
She gasped, completely mortified as the words escaped. Ethan stiffened beside her. She dropped Garrett’s hand and raised her fingers to her mouth, horrified by what she’d said.
Garrett stared back at her, no hint of emotion or judgment in his eyes. Just patient