“That’s not going to happen. I won’t let it.” It was a promise he intended to keep. “You’re not on your own anymore. I’m going to help you figure this out.”
And if he didn’t? If they couldn’t find the proof she needed? He had a backup plan. He’d get her and their daughter out of the country. He had the resources to do it. He wouldn’t allow her to be sent to prison when he knew she was innocent. And then...well, he couldn’t let himself think too far ahead. His mind was still reeling from what he’d discovered earlier in the day. He and Claire needed to have a serious talk about the little girl staying with Beth.
Soon.
Just not quite yet because, despite how anxious he was for answers, Claire looked as if she were about ready to collapse from exhaustion.
“Thank you.” Her words were a breathy whisper. “I don’t think I’ve said that yet.”
“You don’t need to thank me.”
“I do. Even though you’re standing right here, I’m having a hard time grasping the fact that you came after me.” Her lower lip trembled as he watched her fight for composure. “I was so sure I’d never see you again.”
Did she really think so little of him that it surprised her that he was there to help? She probably did. Worse yet, he probably deserved it. When he’d walked out on her, he had been in a bad place emotionally. He’d thought he was doing the right thing. He’d been sure cutting her free was the kindest thing to do. She’d deserved better than to be tied to a man who was so miserable to be around.
Maybe he’d been wrong.
He didn’t know.
“I’ll never be able to tell you how sorry I am about the way I ended things,” he admitted.
She studied his face for a moment, looked as if she wanted to say something and then forced a weak smile. “You were right. My current problem is big enough. It would be silly to drag up problems from the past.”
Roscoe released a loud, theatrical whine. He didn’t appreciate being kept waiting. Alex reached for the doorknob, ready to let the dog out, but twisted back around when Claire spoke again.
“I’m just happy to know you’re alive and well,” Claire said. “I prayed for you. Every night. I prayed for your safety and for healing.” She dropped her gaze, unable to look him in the eye. “I pray for you still.”
“I didn’t know you were the praying type,” he said, feeling somewhat surprised. Maybe he didn’t know Claire as well as he thought he did.
“Things change.” She lifted her chin. “After you left, Beth convinced me to start attending church with her. A lot of years had passed since I’d stepped foot inside a chapel. Once I did—” she gave a small shrug “—it made me question why I ever let myself drift away from the church in the first place. I started reading my Bible again and I began to pray. I prayed a lot.”
“God heard you,” he said gently. “He heard you loud and clear. It took some time for me to listen to Him, but He finally helped me get my head straightened out.”
Claire looked at him quizzically. “You’re a Christian now?”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “Maybe sometime I’ll tell you how that came about. But it’s a story better saved for another time.”
She looked like she wanted to push the matter, but a yawn cut off her words.
It was for the best. Maybe sometime he’d tell her about the stabbing that had taken place in the alley. Maybe he’d tell her how it had changed his life. But he didn’t want to get into that tonight. It was clear she had enough weighing on her and he didn’t want to add to that.
“Get some sleep,” Alex suggested as he motioned toward the bedroom. “I’ll take the couch. You’ll be safe here.”
She shook her head. “You can think what you like, but until this is over, I won’t be safe anywhere.”
“Claire—” his tone was firm “—I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
She leveled him with a look that clearly stated he had already hurt her more than anyone else could.
“You’re right,” she said quietly. She picked up her bag, edging away from Alex as she headed toward the bedroom. “I should get some sleep. I’m tired. I can’t deal with any more tonight.”
He thought she probably meant she couldn’t deal with him any more tonight. He couldn’t blame her. He would help her clear her name. It wouldn’t absolve him of his past mistakes, but it was something. Then he would allow her to get on with her life.
Claire struggled to force her eyes open as she fought against the sensation of water filling her nose, her mouth, threatening to fill her lungs. Her limbs vibrated with anxiety as a feeling of dread flowed through her body. She tried to move but her arms felt weighted down, too heavy to budge.
She gasped for air as she willed herself out of the nightmare that had plagued her since Jared’s death. She tried not to think of that awful day, but the memories consistently wound themselves into her dreams. Jared had drowned...and she’d nearly drowned trying to save him.
Blinking into the dimly lit room, she felt disoriented.
Where was she?
She scrambled into a sitting position, heart hammering wildly. Hazy light crept through the sides of the curtains, barely offering enough light to see by. Unfamiliar walls surrounded her. A strange door was straight across from her. Panic sizzled through her veins as the foreign room came into focus. She jerked fully awake as she tried to get her bearings.
A soft nudge against her hand immediately calmed her. Roscoe whimpered, as if sensing her panic. He nudged her again, the action instantly setting her at ease. She let her hand drift over his head. His silky fur felt familiar and comforting under her palm.
She hated reliving the moment she’d found Jared facedown in the pool. She’d jumped in without thinking, her fleece bathrobe weighing her down, pulling her under, anchoring her below the surface. She’d struggled with the tie around her waist, fighting to get it undone so she could slip free. Once out of the robe, she’d broken the surface of the water, gasping for air even as she swam toward Jared. She’d dragged him to the edge, pulled him out. Her efforts had been in vain. He had died within moments of being shoved into the pool. The blow to his head incapacitating him enough that he’d dragged in a water-filled breath and that had been the end of him.
Her own lungs burned as she dropped back onto her pillow. She shoved the nightmarish memory aside. Other nightmarish memories quickly seeped in, filling her mind with another brand of terror as she thought of the harrowing evening she’d had.
She’d escaped Xavier’s men by the grace of God, and the grace of God alone. She focused on that realization. God had been with her. He had protected her.
Eventually her heartbeat calmed to a dull, hollow thud.
She tried to tell herself she was safe but couldn’t quite force herself to believe it.
On the other side of the door rested another sort of threat.
Alex would never ever hurt her physically. Not like Jared had. But the man was hazardous to her emotional state. Last night the shock of seeing him had numbed some of the hurt.
Roscoe ducked out from under her ministrations. He moved to the closed door and treated her to a pathetic