you going to get it through your head that I know you, inside and out? That nothing you say or do will ever make me leave you?”
She sat up and folded her arms protectively across her body. “I wish I had your strength instead of being weak. I wish I could be an asset to you, instead of a liability.”
The storm of shame in her gaze ripped out his heart. He’d been in the echoing, ultra-modern apartment she’d been moved to from her childhood home. She’d grown up with everything anyone could want. Everything but emotional support. Physical affection. Unconditional love. He was going to make that up to her. If it took until he was a hundred and she was ninety-five. “Come here.” He sat up and tugged her close. “You’ve helped me numerous times tonight. You thought up the fire alarm. How to hang up the signal sheet. And alerted me to the criminal-stopping properties of acetic acid. You are not a weakling, or a liability.”
Tears ran down her face. “I can’t help thinking about my dad. I don’t know what drove him, or why, but he spent his entire life trying to slay dragons. He was strong and brave, but in the end, it killed his marriage. Killed our family. Killed him. If he wasn’t strong enough or brave enough to slay the dragon, how can I possibly be?”
“That might be the problem. You’re a pacifist, darlin’. Maybe you shouldn’t be trying to slay the dragon, but trying to figure out what it says when it roars. Come to terms with it.”
“An approach I never considered.” She frowned. “For a woman who doesn’t believe in violence, I’ve been spending an awful lot of time trying to figure out how to assassinate an integral part of me. Talk about self-destructive.”
“Don’t be afraid to look deep inside and see what’s there. Maybe you need to discover what you’re made of and accept the woman you really are. Make peace with yourself.”
“I’m a coward, that’s who I am. I’ve been quaking in terror since this whole thing started. I wish I had your confidence.”
He wished she did, too. He abhorred seeing her tortured by anxiety. Hated her self-doubt. Hurt at seeing her second-guess every thought, every action. She’d been so smothered, she didn’t trust her instincts. “You think I haven’t been scared?”
“You don’t seem afraid.”
“Only a fool wouldn’t be scared. I know what kind of odds we’re up against. But I can’t help anyone if I allow feelings to overrule logic. I’ve been trained to contain my emotions. You haven’t. You have a lot more courage than you realize.”
“How can you say that?”
“Courage is not lack of fear, Bailey. It’s the ability to act in spite of it. You’ve been right beside me, pulling your weight through this entire ordeal. Believe me, you have courage.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“By the time we get out of here, you will be. We’ll know each other more deeply than we ever thought possible. Who we are, what we are. As individuals and a couple.”
“Maybe in the most horrible circumstances possible.”
“You keep projecting the worst-case scenario, don’t you?” He grabbed her hand and enfolded her small, cold fingers in his. “Okay. Let’s drag out your biggest fear and stare it in the face. If one of us, or God forbid, both of us don’t make it out of here, the survivors can cling to the knowledge that we did our damnedest. We fought the good fight. To the bitter end.”
“What if I can’t fight the good fight?” Her lips quivered and she pressed them together. “My worst fear is that I’ll let you down. I’ll fail. And you will die because of my shortcomings.”
He squeezed her hand. “That is not going to happen.”
“It could.” Her face crumpled. “Because I’m not exactly a kick-ass kind of woman. I’m short on qualities like power and confidence and assertiveness.”
Dammit. Con forced down the lump in his throat. She hadn’t been abandoned only by her father, but her mother as well. Dr. Ellen Chambers had provided every material necessity, every social grace and educational opportunity. But what her daughter needed most, she’d been unable to give. She’d retreated into her own pain and left Bailey to struggle through the emotional minefield alone.
His father’s death had given him and his family up-close-and-personal acquaintance with the crippling effects of sudden loss. The paralyzing properties of grief. They’d all slam danced with survivor’s guilt. But they’d clung together. Navigated the murky waters