he met Tehya.
Her lips tightened as her dark green eyes seemed to glow in the frame of her pale face. That little spattering of freckles stood out in stark relief on her nose, clearly visible despite the tan that he knew covered her entire body.
“When Mother first escaped, she hid with me in a convent with Sister Mary, a friend she had known since she was young. She stayed only for a while, then left to make certain Father’s men hadn’t followed her. She called Sister Mary late one night, about three years later. Sister Mary pulled me from my bed and we ran. As we ran through the forest, I remember hearing gunshots. His men raped several of the sisters. The Reverend Mother had been tortured before they killed her. Horribly.”
He knew that. He had the file on the horrendous murders of the sisters at the Holy Blessings Convent.
“Sister Mary and I ran for several years,” she continued. “I saw Mother only rarely. Then one night we met with an ex-marine. Matthew Thomas.” She rubbed at her arms as though suddenly cold.
“Matthew slipped me into America, and I thought I would be safe with him. I thought he could defeat any monster, he was so strong. He and Mother had evidently had a relationship. I think they may have even loved each other.” She swallowed tightly her gaze stark with painful memories. “Several months later, Sister Mary’s body was found. She had died just after handing me over to Matthew. He and I both knew she would have told Sorrel who I was with, and where I was. She was so fragile, Jordan. So tiny.”
She stared back at him with those eyes so haunted it broke his heart. “When Matthew sent me to his friend Boyd in the Washington mountains, he told me he was going to take care of the problem once and for all. Then he would bring Mother to me, and we would be safe.” The pain in her face had his fingers aching to clench into fists. “Two months later Boyd pulled me out of bed in the middle of the night and we were on the run.” The first tear eased down her cheek. “Matthew’s body had been found. He had been skinned alive.”
Jordan couldn’t stand still another moment longer.
“Goddammit, I have the fucking files,” he bit out furiously as he took her in his arms and held her to him with an overwhelming need to take those painful memories out of her head. “I have the files, Tehya.”
“Then you know.” She sobbed, anger, fear, and desperation in her cries. “If these are Sorrel’s men, then you know what they are. You know what they’re capable of doing. Why, Jordan? Why won’t they let me go? Why won’t they leave me alone?”
His hands gripped her upper arms as he pulled back and stared down at her before lifting one hand to wipe the wetness from her cheek.
“Tehya, sweetheart,” he whispered. “We kept you hidden rather than taking care of this when we should have. Sorrel isn’t haunting you, but it’s obvious someone associated with him believes you have something they want. We’ll just have to figure out what that something is.”
It was the only thing that made sense.
She shook her head. “I didn’t take anything from the estate while I was there. I even left the clothes I had brought myself the night I was attacked there.”
“We’ll figure it out,” he promised her. Nine times out of ten it was something as simple as a file she may have seen, or some insignificant piece of information Sorrel had given her before the night he died.
For now though, all he could do was hold her. All he could do was comfort her and ache for the years of her life that had been stolen from her.
“I’m fine.” She gave a hard shake of her head as she pulled away from him and moved to the counter before turning to face him once again.
Letting her go wasn’t easy, but it was easier than seeing that pain in her eyes.
“You’ll be fine,” he promised her. “We’ll see to that, darlin’.”
Jordan saw the determination on her face, the pain, the belief that somehow she could protect herself, protect her heart, if she had just found a way to defeat Sorrel when she was younger.
“Will you?” she asked then, her expression closing on him, her gaze becoming shuttered. “Will it be better, Jordan? Or will the past steal the