Page 8 of Faith
So many ofZeke’s fears were confirmed by the look on her face when he locked the door. He didn’t think anything of it until she stared at him, eyes wide and panicked, waiting for the inevitable attack.
She was abused. Likely assaulted. Beaten and tortured and used for whatever the bastard who held her wanted.
Zeke struggled to keep his anger at bay, wanting to go out and find the man who had her for twelve years and beat him until he couldn’t breathe and would know the pain he caused.
But first, Zeke needed to know who he was going after. And make sure Nina was safe.
“Are you hungry?” Zeke asked instead of probing into the past.
Nina nodded, the motion jerky and unsure.
“If my memory is any good, your favorite food was always mac-and-cheese.”
Nina’s eyes welled up, her smile small and sad. “I haven’t had mac-and-cheese in forever.”
“Is that a yes?” Zeke asked.
Nina nodded, moving closer to him. He stood still, not wanting to scare her and not wanting to stop whatever she was doing. He needed her to trust him.
Nina didn’t stop when she got close to him, just wrapped her arms around his middle and held on tight.
Zeke released the breath he’d been holding since he heard her voice on the phone and gave in to the need to hold her tight and bury his face in her hair. He inhaled deep, drawing the scent of his shampoo into his lungs and knowing he’d never want to wash with anything else ever again. The scent would forever remind him of Nina.
“Thank you for coming to get me.”
“Thank you for calling me.”
Nina let out a shaky breath, then eased her arms from his middle. She took a step back and smiled up at him.
“I’ll start on food and you can relax and watch something if you want.”
She shook her head and followed him. “I’d rather… I’d rather stay close to you if that’s okay.”
Zeke nodded, unable to find the words he needed to express his relief.
His kitchen was a good size for one person, but with a second, it quickly became tight. Zeke moved around the space with the comfort he’d always had in the kitchen, but the awareness that Nina was in his space. He kept his house stocked with more thanenough food at all times, and had water boiling for the fusilli pasta within ten minutes.
He went through the motions automatically, shredding three cheeses by hand and stirring the pasta until it was half-cooked. He drained the pasta, then added it to the cheese, egg, and milk mixture. With seasoning added, he scooped all of it into the glass pan and slid it into the oven.
“Thirty minutes and I’ll take it out,” he said, as though Nina didn’t know.
She nodded, but didn’t move out of his way.
“Drink? Water? Shit, wine or beer? I guess you’re old enough for alcohol now.”
“I don’t like it. Not… I like to have a clear head.”
Zeke nodded, another thing that angered him. Another clue to what she’d been through. Fuck, he was going to murder someone. How the hell could someone do those things to a person like Nina? Any person, but especially her? She was sweet and innocent. She was a kid when she disappeared.
She wasn’t anymore, but she hadn’t had a chance to be an adult either. She was captive. A prisoner in some sick bastard’s house.
But she was out. She was safe. She was there with him. And he would never let her out of his sight again.
He led the way to the couch and grabbed the remote. Zeke turned on a comedy he remembered Nina enjoying, a show that had been off the air for a decade, but he gambled she wouldn’t know that.
“I love this show. Do they ever get together in the end?” She lifted her eyes to Zeke, and he struggled to breathe.
A nod was all he could manage.
