The Departed

were, and if nothing else, he could still trust his instincts on that.
    In short, he had no time to think about her, but as she pushed around him and strode down the hall in front of him, all he could do was stare at the sweet, round curve of her ass. He had to stifle a groan as he remembered digging his fingers into those curves, how she’d shuddered and moaned under him, how she’d rocked up to meet him.
    His heart raced and his hands weren’t entirely steady; his mind was focused on nothing but sex, Dez, and getting her naked. And then he realized that she was standing at a dead stop in the middle of the hallway. Standing still in that odd, eerie fashion that he recognized all too well.
    He didn’t have to see the look on her face to know what was wrong. He already knew—he could tell by the strange, odd tension emanating from her. She felt something. He didn’t know what, but she felt something. Whatever it was, it broke her heart, too.
    He wanted to reach out, touch her, reassure her, but after what had just happened, he didn’t dare.
    But he couldn’t stay silent, either.
    With the rest of his people, he could. With the rest of them, he could wait in silence even if the worry was killing him. But not with her. Although she was no longer part of his team, although she was no longer remotely connected to him…no. He couldn’t remain silent and wait and hope she’d share some small piece with him.
    Down the hall to her right waited the cops and he suspected a few doctors and nurses were coming in and out of the room—this sort of shit just didn’t happen in French Lick, the middle of nowhere. Everybody wanted to look at the girl Dez had saved. She was already a hot topic of discussion and the story hadn’t even broken yet.
    Shifting his body to conceal her as much as he could, he looked down at Dez’s face. “What’s wrong?”
    “I can feel her.” She blew out a troubled breath and shot him a quick glance before looking away. “I shouldn’t be able to—I’m shielded—but I can feel her. It’s the hell she’s in.”
    Then she gave him a sour smile. “I guess that’s good news. I don’t think I’d feel her this strong if she wasn’t going to make it. Her soul is fighting hard. The soul and the body are usually pretty tightly linked. If her soul is clinging to life, her body is going to follow, I think.”
    The look in her eyes was sad and lost. He couldn’t not touch her then, not considering how broken she looked, how defeated. Brushing the back of his hand down her cheek, he said softly, “You saved her life, Desiree. You shouldn’t look so sad about this.”
    “Saved her life…after some punk bastards decided to torture and kill her for kicks. Shit. What good did I do in the end? She’ll have nightmares all her life over this.”
    He narrowed his eyes, his mind focusing on that bit of information she’d let slip—damn her, he’d known she had more knowledge than she’d given up. But now wasn’t the time to interrogate her. When she would have turned away, he caught her shoulder. “What good did you do? How about the fact that she now has a life to have nightmares? The nightmares will be brutal, but she’s alive. She’ll have a chance to live, to heal. That’s a gift and you need to get that through your head. She’ll thank you for it; her family will. You saved her life. Be glad of that.”
    “It’s not enough,” Dez whispered, her voice broken. “Not if she’s got that kind of pain in her. I should have gotten here sooner…”
    “If that’s how it was meant to happen, it would have.” As a tear slipped free and rolled down her cheek, he brushed it away. That was one thing he did believe in. His people might be able to do what some called miracles. Some people called it other things— hoaxes and bullshit were the more polite terms. But for the most part, people saw things like what Dez did as a gift. She’d saved a life and she was beating herself up for not doing more. If she’d been meant to do more, she would have. “You did what you were meant to do, baby.”
    It slipped out of him.
    Her breath caught and she shot him a look.
    It hung there between them, but what could he do, take it back?
    Sighing, he stroked her hair back from her brow and said, “You did what you were meant to do. She’s alive…because of you. She can heal because of you. She can have a future…because of you. It’s a gift. Don’t belittle that.”
    She gave him a smile,