Micah was out of his chair and bursting out of the room the second he saw her eyes glaze, saw the imminent shock racing through her system. Damn Stephens. Damn them all to hell.
He didn’t knock on the door where the meeting was being held; he threw it open and stepped inside, moving quickly to Risa’s side, his arms going around her as she stumbled from her chair.
He caught her against his chest, glaring at Stephens as her nails clawed at his jacket and an animalistic sound of pain left her throat.
“Bastard,” he snarled furiously. “You could have done this easier.”
“Who the hell are you?” Abigail stood behind Risa like a protective tigress. “Release her this minute. I’ll care for her. I cared for her when you bastards left her on my doorstep like she didn’t matter.” Tears ran down her face as she yelled up at him, her hands reaching for her granddaughter, trying to pull her from Micah’s arms. “Damn you!”
Risa was dying inside.
She couldn’t cry. It felt locked inside her. She wanted to hide. She wanted to find a hole and sink inside it; she wanted to scream in agony; she wanted to plead for answers.
Why? Why her?
Her father had sat and watched as another man raped her. Helped hold her down while they injected that vicious drug inside her that made her respond, made her beg. He saw her as unworthy to even sell to the highest bidder. How sick was that? And now, just when she thought she could live, it was to find out this.
She laughed. She couldn’t believe she was laughing. Evidently others couldn’t, either, because all sound ceased in the room.
She lifted her head from Micah’s shoulder and pushed away from him. God, she didn’t want to be touched; she didn’t want his pity.
She turned to the federal attorney and laughed in his face.
“Two million dollars?” She wanted to scream in agony. “My father didn’t think I was worth fucking, my own government didn’t even get a clue when I was institutionalized for nearly two years, but someone out there thinks my life is now worth two million dollars?”
Pain lashed at her chest, stealing her breath at the compassion in both attorneys’ eyes now. Pity. They felt sorry for her.
“Risa. That’s enough.” Micah’s hands settled on her shoulders, his grip firm, warm.
She wanted to turn into him and soak in that warmth. She wanted to beg him to make it all better, to make the demons go away, to take the pain away, to find her one moment of peace. She wanted to plead for it, and she couldn’t.
“Miss Clay, I understand your anger,” the federal attorney began.
“Do you, Mr. Stephens?” she questioned him roughly. “Do you understand any damned thing at this moment?” She stared around the room. Her grandmother and her attorney. Her grandmother had kept the doctor’s reports from her, had denied allowing her the knowledge of what was going on with her own body.
“Why did you lie to me?” she whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
“Risa, you were finally finding some peace,” Abigail cried softly. “I couldn’t tell you. The doctor has to be wrong; it’s been years.”
“I had a right to know.” Her fists clenched at her side. “God, do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I hadn’t realized something was wrong with me? Do you have any idea how I felt, Grandmother?”
Of course she didn’t. No one asked, no wanted to hear, so Risa hadn’t spoken of it. And she couldn’t very well tell her grandmother she was dying to be fucked.
“And what the hell are you doing here?” She turned to Micah, avoiding his gaze, avoiding the demand in it, the pity she was terrified of seeing.
“Miss Clay, Mr. Sloane is private agent on loan to the Department of Justice. He and his team will b
e your protection.”
She was going to throw up. She turned to the mirror, the two-way glass, wondering who watched now. Then she turned to Micah.
“They knew,” she whispered, her lips numb now. “Last night, all of them, they knew who you were.”
“They knew,” he said, his tone firm, quiet.
They had lied to her. Morganna and Clint, Ian and Kira, Kell and Emily, Reno and Raven. They had all lied to her.
“Did they even know you?” she asked then, wondering at the extent of the lies.