“They may not want to do me a favor for long,” Zack muttered.

If Gracie launched her accusations against Zack to the two detectives, he might well find himself behind bars and then extradited back to Tennessee, where this entire sordid mess began.

“What was that?” Beau asked.

“Nothing. Continue on. I need to get back to Gracie,” he lied.

“Any idea when they’re discharging her?”

A jolt of panic blew through Zack. He wasn’t ready for her to be discharged. She’d freak over going home with him. But at the same time maybe that’s precisely what he needed. Time alone with her to convince her of his innocence. Provided she didn’t scream the walls down around him and get him arrested for kidnapping.

Maybe he should rethink having Eliza stay with him and Gracie or even bring Gracie to Eliza’s place.

He sighed, closing his eyes.

“No. I wouldn’t think they’d discharge her any sooner than tomorrow afternoon. She’s pretty banged up and she looks like hell.”

“We’re working on this around the clock, Zack,” Beau said, his voice serious. “No stone is being left unturned. We will nail these bastards. No matter what it takes.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

He hesitated before bringing up what was weighing most heavily on his mind. He almost didn’t confide in Beau, but Beau was solid. The closest thing Zack had to a best friend after most of his life had been in solitude and self-exile. He’d grieved for Gracie for years and he’d purposely closed himself off from other people. He hadn’t allowed anyone close. Not until he came to work for the Devereauxs. And, well, Eliza knew, so it followed that the others would know soon enough as well, though he doubted Eliza would break his confidence.

“I need your help with something else too.”

“Anything, man. You know that. Name it.”

Zack put a hand to the back of his neck and glanced at Eliza, who sent him a look of support, as if she knew exactly what it was he was going to talk to Beau about.

“I need some discreet digging done on some people back home in Tennessee. Old . . . friends of mine.”

He nearly choked on the words. Hatred consumed him. He’d never before knew what it was like to hate as much as he hated the people who’d done this to Gracie. He shook with rage, could barely see through the haze of fury clouding his vision.

“Okay. What am I looking for here, Zack?”

Beau’s voice had gone somber, as though he sensed the importance of Zack’s request.

Praying he didn’t break down over the phone with his partner, he quietly recounted everything that Sterling had told him earlier.

At the end there was a shocked, prolonged silence. Zack could well picture Beau’s open mouth as he put together all the information Zack had just given him.

After a long pause, Beau, in a raised voice, said, “What the fuck?”

Zack could hear him seething through the phone and could easily imagine Beau’s big body bristling with anger.

“That’s insane!” Beau sputtered out, before Zack could offer anything further. “Jesus, that’s just . . . crazy! She believes that? She honestly believes that horse shit?”

Again, Zack closed his eyes as weariness—and relief—blew over him. It was nice to have unconditional trust from the people he worked with. Not only worked with but considered close friends. His only friends, ironically, since parting ways with the group of “friends” back home. The same group of guys he still kept up with. The same fucking assholes who’d destroyed his and Gracie’s lives. The same men who had horribly abused the woman he loved.

“She believes it,” Zack said quietly. “She gets hysterical every time she sees me.”

“Shit. I’m sorry, man. That has to suck. What are you going to do?”

“Somehow convince her that I had nothing to do with her rape,” Zack said quietly. “It’s all I can do. And in the meantime, I need to do whatever I can to dig up the truth so I can get justice for Gracie. For me. For . . . us. And for all the time we lost.”

SEVENTEEN

ZACK fidgeted and impatiently paced the hallway in front of Gracie’s door. He checked his watch for the sixth time and blew out his breath. It had been an hour since the police had arrived to question Gracie. What the fuck was taking so long? He hated being out here, out of the loop, like he didn’t figure prominently in Gracie’s life or well-being.

She might not want him in any loop, but Zack wasn’t backing down and he damn sure wasn’t walking away from Gracie, even if that was what she repeatedly demanded. Maybe it made him a complete bastard. Maybe he should comply with her wishes and disappear. It was obvious his presence was causing her extreme emotional distress.

But damn it, he just couldn’t do that. He couldn’t let her go without a fight. He had to find a way to make her believe that he hadn’t done this terrible thing. If only she could read his mind.

He stopped his pacing and froze.

Eliza immediately picked up on the change in mood because she approached him, concern mirroring in her eyes.

“What is it, Zack?”

He huffed out his breath, remembering Gracie’s emotional tirade. That she couldn’t read minds anymore, that she wouldn’t even if she could. She’d said he’d taken that from her too. What the hell had she meant by that? It was the simplest solution. If only she would reach into his mind, then she’d know the hell he’d been through the last twelve years. She’d know that he’d spent more than a decade searching for answers—for her. And she’d damn sure know that he had nothing to do with her rape, that he would die before ever hurting her.

“Do you remember, when all that shit was going down with Ari, when I said that I used to know someone who read minds?” he asked quietly.

Her brow furrowed in thought, and she was silent for a moment, as if trying to recall the incident. Then her eyes flashed in recognition as she evidently remembered his long-ago statement.

“Yeah, I remember. But you never expounded. I’d forgotten all about it, to be honest.”

“I was talking about Gracie. She could read minds. I know it sounds crazy, but you of all people shouldn’t have a problem believing it. I mean after Ramie and Ari and all the crazy assignments we’ve had.”

Eliza’s features bunched into confusion. “But Zack, if she can read minds, then surely . . .”