Page 66 of Deep Within Me
“We’ll get him,” Jacob said. He rested his hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek, his touch gentle. “We won’t let him harm that woman or anyone else.”
Liz murmured, “He won’t do anything if I go back.”
“No fucking way,” Zeke said. “Jacob and I won’t let you.”
“That’s right,” he said.
Liz rested her forehead on Zeke’s chest, relishing the moment and the little time they had left. “I have to. It’s the only way. If I’m able to heal, that might appease him. It could buy you time to plan your attack and get rid of him for good.”
“I won’t allow it,” Zeke growled. He held her tightly. Rough breaths poured from him as though his anger was at its limit…or he was battling despair. “We’ll figure something out. He won’t win.”
Liz had no strength left to argue. Carreon had already won. All that remained was for her to find a way to leave the stronghold and allow her destiny to play out as it should have from the beginning.
She and Zeke weren’t meant to be together. They’d been born as enemies, not lovers. Being with him had caused nothing but grief for his people and her clan. She recognized that inescapable truth on Isabel’s face.
The older woman had just come into the hall, stopping at what she saw. Her leader and his brother giving solace to a woman who had no right to it.
“Zeke,” Isabel said. “We need to talk.”
Liz felt his body tense.
“Later,” he said, clearly irritated.
“No. Now,” Isabel insisted.
“I’ll take Liz back to your room and make certain she’s safe,” Jacob offered. There was no lust in his voice, merely a desire to help.
Despite Isabel’s presence, Zeke cupped Liz’s face in his large hand and pressed his cheek to hers. “Everything will be all right,” he whispered.
Liz didn’t believe it. She saw Isabel’s expression and recalled what Carreon had threatened.
Zeke followed Isabel to one of the smaller meeting spaces where the women sometimes played cards or caught a moment for themselves away from the boisterous children. Unlike the main meeting room, there were several smaller tables in here surrounded by comfortable chairs.
Isabel closed and locked the door.
Zeke braced himself for the worst.
Rather than speaking, she went to a cupboard on the far left. Inside were packaged snacks—Cheetos, Snickers, Pringles, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. She reached behind them and opened a hidden compartment. From there, she pulled out what appeared to be a stack of photos.
Isabel placed them side by side on the table nearest to Zeke then said, “Look at these.”
He wanted to ask why but figured it would only prolong whatever this was leading up to. Zeke wondered if those were photos of his parents. Did Isabel honestly believe she could use their memory to shame him into doing what she wanted?
He wanted to tell her it wouldn’t work. He ached to leave.
On a heavy sigh, he went to the table and regarded the pictures. Taken at various times, clearly different decades, they depicted several members of the clan dressed in that period’s clothing. Like the garments, the scenery behind them also changed. The oldest photos showed the desert landscape dotted by teepees, their people wearing buckskin, their braided hair decorated with eagle feathers. In the later pictures, Anglo clothing and storefronts replaced the earlier Comanche lifestyle.
Many of these photos appeared to be from the early eighteen hundreds. Was the process to take pictures even available then? How was it possible that it had been so good? These were remarkable images, as sharp as those from today’s digital cameras. Not understanding, Zeke glanced at Isabel.
She tapped her finger against the table. “Look at the pictures. Tell me what you see.”
“Our people,” he said.
“You’re not looking,” she accused. “You’re not seeing. You’re deliberately being blind about this, just as you’ve been abouteverything concerning your clan since you brought that woman here.Look.”
Clenching his jaw, Zeke regarded the pictures, not knowing what in the hell he was supposed to be looking for. A sign that he shouldn’t have brought Liz here? A message written in the dirt or in the sky? A particularly threatening scowl that would reveal what his ancestors thought of—
Zeke’s musing stopped as he more closely studied the faces. Once he had, he compared the earliest picture to the most recent one. All of the people in it were different, of course. The previous ones gone because they’d died as many as a hundred-and-ninety years before.