Page 65 of Taylor’s Warrior

“What happened?” Nick asked.

Rhys glanced over to the other side of the vehicle, where the two women were still clinging to each other. Much though he wanted to hold Taylor himself, he was glad she had her friend to support her. “More than either of us bargained for. The FBI took the kidnappers into custody, along with Markham and the woman.”

“Wait.” Nick’s expression took on a look of disbelief. “They arrested the kidnap victims?”

“Blackmailers. At least, Markham is. Was. The woman might be charged as an accomplice or an accessory, depending on her degree of involvement.”

Nick ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Hell. How’s Taylor taken it?”

“I’m not sure it’s fully sunk in yet, but that’s not all. Before the two of them were taken away, she had a very short conversation with her father. Turns out, Charles Markham isn’t her biological father. Or claims not to be.”

Nick was as shocked by the revelation as Rhys had been. “Jesus. Come on, let’s get inside. Is there anything else I should be aware of?”

They started toward the ranch house, Rhys falling into step beside his boss. “I’m waiting for a call from Livingston. He still needs statements from us.”

“Okay. Is that it?”

The thought had occurred to Rhys on the way back. “Just a gut feeling, but I think Taylor needs to have a proper conversation with her… with Markham. Thing is, I’m not sure when she’s going to get a chance, or even when she’s going to feel up to speaking to him. She’s been through a hell of a lot today, so she might not be in the right place to have that talk for a while. Although, by the time she is, it might be too late, because he’ll be in the bowels of the criminal justice system.”

Rhys slowed his pace to let Taylor and Charity catch up. They were wrapped up in a conversation all their own, and whatever they were discussing, Taylor was relatively more animated than he would have expected. He wondered how much of it was bravado.

“Agreed.” Nick ushered everyone into the ranch house. “I’ll get us some coffee, and then I suggest you head over either to your place, Rhys, or Taylor’s, and try to relax. See what Livingston says and take it from there. And whatever happens, you have our support and all the time you need to take care of business until this is resolved.”

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Taylor didn’t argue when Rhys suggested going to his place. As soon as they made it through the door, he witnessed the complete and utter disintegration of the courageous front she’d sustained since Markham’s revelation.

“Come here,” he murmured, taking her hand and drawing her closer. “You’re home now. You’re safe.”

She rested her head against his shoulder. “I don’t know where to start. I feel lost. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

Desolation was in every word she uttered—so deep, she was beyond tears. If ever there was a time he needed to be there for her, this was it.

“I know who you are, Tay,” he said softly. “You’re your own woman. You don’t need validation from him. You don’t need validation from me. You are strong and brave, and you have this. And if there is a time when you do need a little extra help, I’m here for you. Always will be. No strings.”

To his great surprise, he heard a quiet hint of a chuckle. “Tay?”

She sniffled and lifted her head away from his shoulder. “You know, I was just thinking, if someone had told me months ago that all this was going to happen, that I was going to be here, with you, like this, there’s no way I would have believed them.”

He had to laugh then. “You too?”

Some of the tension eased from her body. “You know what? I’m not sure I’m feeling it yet, but in some ways, I have to be grateful for this whole, sorry mess.”

Rhys’ eyebrows almost launched off the top of his head. “Why’s that?”

“If this hadn’t happened, if Po—if Charles Markham hadn’t sent the drive and the documents to me, we wouldn’t be here like this right now. I’d still be fighting how I feel about you.”

“There is that,” he agreed, “although I’d like to think we’d have ended up like this eventually.”

She burrowed closer to him. “Me, too.”

At least she sounded a lot happier about that. He kissed her forehead. “I know you’re in an unbelievable situation right now, but I think there’s something specific that’s really bothering you. Want to tell me what it is?”

Her expression reflected a deep inner sadness. “This is going to sound stupid. I almost called him Pops—he isn’t, never has been, so what do I call him now?”

Rhys wasn’t sure he could help with that quandary. “It might take a while, but my guess is it doesn’t really matter, because you’ll eventually stop thinking about him at all. Everything will work out fine.”

“You think?”