Boone examined his brother-in-law’s account, seeing the finances right before his eyes. “Yeah, sir, we’ve got a problem.”
The Fed leaned in close, his coffee breath brushing across Boone’s face. “Care to explain how your wife’s brother knew that the drug was about to be FDA approved?”
Boone knew that inside information because he’d arrested the CEO of Reds Pharma on a DUI charge two nights before. The CEO told Boone he’d been celebrating because his drug was getting FDA approval.
The realization was on him. There was no way out of this, and no way he could save the people he thought loved him, and that he loved back. No one considered what this would do to him. He held nothing back. “I am involved, sir, but not in the way you think.” Boone ran his hands over his face, suddenly so damn tired, feeling like all his hopes and dreams were gone in a second. “My grandfather died of prostate cancer. I told my wife, Chelsea, in confidence, about the doctor I had arrested and also talked to her about the drug. I had explained that I wished the drug had come earlier to save my grandfather’s life. The conversation was between a husband and a wife, and the wishes of what a grandchild would have wanted for his grandfather.” Boone recalled the conversation they’d had in bed that night. He even told Chelsea about the FDA approval coming in. She’d been in his arms that night, hugged him tight when his heart spilled out. The next day she must have called her brother to tip him off.
Boone knew why. His brother-in-law was scrambling to keep his job as a stockbroker on Wall Street and was falling into a depression. He had no doubt Chelsea wanted to help her brother, but he never could have anticipated she’d burn him to do so.
The Fed studied Boone a moment and then moved to his chair on the other side of the table. “Your wife sold you out?”
Betrayal burned his chest. He and Chelsea had been together for twelve years. He thought they were happy. He thought she loved him. “Apparently,” Boone replied.
“Boone?” Asher said.
He blinked away the dark memory. Thankfully, it didn’t burn like it used to, but it still stung. Boone knew he changed after that, unable to trust his instincts when it came to love. He nodded at Asher. “I’ll talk with Peyton and see what comes up.”
“I think that’s a good start.” Asher rose and stared at Boone intently. “I’m with you on this one. That girl of yours is in some kind of trouble.”
“Not this girl, right?”
Shit.
Boone glanced over his shoulder, then wished he hadn’t. Peyton stood in the doorway, her damp hair around her face, her skin still a shade paler than normal. She wore jogging pants and a sweater, and she still looked cold. He was up on his feet in an instant and wrapped his arms around her. “This isn’t something you need to worry about.”
She melted into his arms and then leaned away, confusion heavy in her expression. “You can’t possibly think this has to do with me?”
He hesitated, not sure how to answer. He didn’t want to scare her, but she needed to know what she faced now. “I don’t believe in coincidences, Peyton. With this accident, along with everything else you’ve been through, it’s hard not to believe something more is going on here.”
Her eyes widened, tears forming there. “But…why?” Her voice hitched.
Rhett’s phone beeped then. All eyes went to him as he glanced down at his screen. He finally looked up at Boone, his expression revealing nothing. “They’ve found the SUV a mile away. Abandoned. The vehicle was reported stolen this morning.”
“What does that mean?” Peyton asked Boone with big scared eyes.
Damn. His guts twisted. He locked his arms around her, wishing he could snap his fingers and take her away to someplace where nothing could hurt her. “I know you want answers, and we’ll get them, I promise you that.”
She blinked, her chin quivering. “Answers for what, though? I mean, maybe it’s totally random. Maybe the person stole the SUV and was trying get away and caused the accident—” Her breath hitched, more tears welling in her eyes, so close to spilling free.
Boone gestured the guys out with a flick of his chin, wrapping his arms around her even tighter. Rhett and Asher moved to the front door, and before he shut it, Rhett mouthed, “Call me.” Boone nodded and then focused on Peyton, whose mouth was wide open, like she was trying to get words out but couldn’t.
That he understood. Once he’d experienced a moment in time where his entire world suddenly looked different. “I know this is shocking. I know it’s hard to understand. But did the accident seem random to you?”
She appeared to fight with herself. Not wanting to admit the truth. “No,” she eventually choked out.
Boone did the one thing that he didn’t have when his world turned upside down. He showed her that she wasn’t alone. “We’re going to find out who did this and why, and I’ll be here right beside you as we do it.”
He didn’t know if it’s what he said or how he said it, but suddenly his chest lightened as she gripped his shirt and sobbed against his chest.
When he drove up to the crash, his world had been spun on his axis.
With her in his arms, everything aligned.
Chapter 10
Peyton melted into the strength of Boone’s hold. She needed nothing else but him. Boone. His name kept repeating in her mind over and over again. Boone. That’s who she thought of when she believed her car was going to crash into the semi and she might die. She hadn’t thought of her parents. Or Adam. Boone had been the only one on her mind.
And with that realization, the remaining guilt about moving no longer mattered. Boone was there. With her.
Silence had once been the enemy, because the silence was when her mind went to dark places. Against Boone, the silence wasn’t as daunting anymore, but the truth ripped her heart out anyway. “I don’t understand any of this,” she said, trying to get a grip on her new reality. “I’ve never had an enemy in my life. Why would someone be trying to hurt me? Because of the shop? Because of this house? Because I sell lingerie?” None of it made any sense.
“We’re going to figure all this out.” Boone pressed his lips against her forehead, a comforting touch she desperately needed. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
The strength in his voice made her believe him. She snorted a ragged laugh. “I have no plans on letting anything happen to me either.”
He smiled against her forehead. “Now that I believe.”
Peyton shut her eyes, reeling in the safety he presented. In a world that seemed to tumble away, Boone stayed. Steady. Strong. She’d been scared, so fearful of taking that step forward without Adam, but she lived when Adam didn’t. And her heart now reached for Boone, for the warmth right in front of her, instead of the love she missed.
Boone drew in a big long breath, lifting his chest before he moved away. “Wine?” he asked, brushing his hand across her cheek.
“A big glass, please.” She forced a smile, not letting this break her. Nothing had broken her yet.
While he left to fetch her drink, she moved to the couch, sitting down and resting her chin on her drawn-up knees. Outside the window, the sun had vanished at some point, the dark sky showing only the shadows of trees. The half-moon glistened against the lake off in the distance.
When Boone returned, he carried a full glass of wine in one hand, along with a glass of scotch on the rocks. He gave her a soft smile. “Full enough?”
“It’s perfect,” she said, accepting the glass of wine. “And I can always go back for seconds.”
“You’re not the only one,” he said heavily, taking a seat next to her. He took a slow sip of his drink before turning to face her.
Peyton had seen many things in Boone’s eyes. Lust. Happiness. Amusement. Tension. But the pained way he stared at her was new and had her reaching for his hand without even thinking about it.
His fingers twined with hers, holding tight. He polished off the rest of his drink in a single shot and then addressed he
r. “I’ve told you that the reason my marriage failed had to do with my brother-in-law.”
She nodded, feeling his tension coming off him in waves.
He kept his gaze on his empty glass. “What I didn’t tell you was that my ex-wife, Chelsea, was the reason why.”
Peyton stared at him, slightly confused. She thought that Boone’s ex-wife couldn’t forgive Boone for sending her brother to jail or something like that. “Sorry, what do you mean, the reason why?”
Boone finally glanced her way, his eyes haunted, far away from there. “One night, I assisted a rookie who was dealing with a belligerent drunk. I’d been off duty at the time and happened to be outside where the drunk was being arrested for a DUI. The guy ended up being a doctor. He was talking about a cancer drug that was about to take off after getting FDA approval. I told my wife, because my grandfather died of prostate cancer, and I was wishing we’d had the drug to save his life.”
Peyton knew she wasn’t going to like what Boone said next.
“Chelsea’s brother was a stockbroker on Wall Street,” Boone continued. “He’d been worried about his job, having a rough go of it, so she told him about the drug.” He paused, his jaw muscles working. “She cost me my career with the NYPD.”
Peyton’s heart reached for him. “God, Boone. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine being betrayed like that.”
He barely reacted, obviously keeping his emotions locked down. “Neither Chelsea nor her brother, Scott, could have known that Scott was already under investigation by the FBI.” Boone drew in a long, deep breath. Peyton didn’t have to ask what that did to him back then. She could see the heaviness all over his face. “But regardless, they had to have known that it would lead back to me.”
She tightened her fingers twined with his, hoping that comforted him. “You couldn’t forgive your wife?” Peyton took a guess.
Boone nodded as his answer. His gaze fell to their held hands, and for once, Peyton felt like she wasn’t the person clinging, she was comforting. “I don’t like talking about this part of my past. It took me a long time to find my way back from the hellish place I’d gone after I left New York City. I’d lost everything just like that.” He snapped his fingers and then sighed. “Nothing made sense anymore.”
“Now that I totally understand.”
He looked at her then, softness in his eyes. “I’m sure you do.”
She watched him closely, thinking to herself that now Boone made a lot more sense.
He gave a chuckle that never reached his eyes. “You’re looking at me like I’m a science project that’s gone all wrong.”
“Actually, if anything, it’s that you’ve gone perfectly right,” she countered, tucking her legs under her. “I guess I just understand you more now.”
He arched an eyebrow.
She set to explaining. “I mean that it makes sense you haven’t been the relationship type since Chelsea. That’s quite the doozy and would make anyone not too excited about jumping into anything serious.”
He searched her eyes a moment, then inclined his head. “I can’t trust my instincts where love is involved. It’s a feeling that I don’t like.” He hesitated, a dark shadow of pain crossing his expression. “My instincts failed with Chelsea. I didn’t see the person she’d become. I only saw the person I wanted her to be—the woman I had fallen in love with.”
Peyton watched him inhale and exhale deeply. She had become an expert at breathing techniques that got you through tough conversations. Like funeral arrangements, insurance claims, death certificates. Though it also occurred to her that the timing of this conversation wasn’t coincidental. “Are you telling me this because you wanted to…or for another reason?”
“I’m telling you this because fair is fair.” He placed his empty glass on the table, then turned to face her. “I know you are reluctant to share your past, and I want you to know that I understand why. But, I’m afraid I need to hear about your life in Seattle.”
She put two and two together real quick. “Are you thinking that all of this has to do with my past?” The thought hadn’t even occurred to her.
“It’s in the realm of possibilities.”
She couldn’t make sense out of any of this and adamantly shook her head. “I trust you, Boone, I do, but you are way off base here. My life in Seattle was totally normal.”
His brow arched again. “You’ve had a lot of death around you.”
“I know it seems like that,” she retorted, suddenly chilled to the bone again. “But I come from a good home.” She raised one finger. “First, I’m still having trouble even considering this has to be about me at all. But I know for sure it’s gotta be about something here in Stoney Creek, not something from my past.”
“It very well could be,” Boone countered gently. “But the Francis case has hit a dead end, which tells us we’re looking in the wrong spot. Now with the accident earlier, the abandoned SUV…we need to look at all angles here, including your past.”
He was right—she knew that. She paused, then took a couple of long sips of wine to ease her dry throat. “This wasn’t what I wanted,” she admitted, staring down into the wine rippling against the glass. She pulled her hand away from his, placing both around the glass, steadying herself. “When I left Seattle, I wanted to start over. I didn’t want anyone to know about Adam, about what I lost, or about my old life. I wanted to reinvent myself.”
Boone dropped a hand on her thigh, his voice softened. “I know.”
Reeling on the coattails of his sharing, she shut her eyes, allowing herself to go back to a moment when everything looked different—when she was different. “Adam and I had this life I dreamed of growing up,” she began. “We had that romantic tale, where you meet, and things happened so instantly. I knew I’d marry Adam a week after meeting him, and we got married a month after I graduated. We were happy.” She opened her eyes, finding Boone’s gaze warm and open, his fingers tight on her thigh.
She took another long sip of her wine, tasting the citrusy hints, and continued, “Adam loved me in ways I never would have believed a man could love a woman.” She searched for anything that showed this conversation bothered Boone. Either he hid his displeasure, or the topic didn’t bother him in the least. “As you already know, I was a nurse. My mom was a nurse. My grandmother too. I guess taking care of people was ingrained into me. Nursing was my passion, until…” Her mind began to float away from her, her thundering heartbeat in her ears faded away, changing to a constant beep, beep, beep.
“Clear,” Dr. Williams said, seconds before he placed the paddles against the chest slicked with blood.
The man’s torso lifted off the hospital bed and fell a moment later.
“Clear,” Dr. Williams said again.
Peyton watched the heart rate monitor. Nothing. No change.
Dr. Williams shook his head in obvious frustration and glanced at the circular clock on the light blue stone wall. “Time of death 0304.”
Heavy silence filled the room. The kind of silence that reminds you that no matter how much training someone has, not everyone can be saved. While Peyton knew this, the entire team always felt the sting when they lost a life. No one could pretend this was only a job. Yes, during the years she’d worked as an emergency room nurse, she’d learned how to cut herself off emotionally. She could feel disappointed, but that’s all she could let herself feel. When death came knocking, sometimes she couldn’t stand in the way. And for this poor man on the bed, no one could save him.
When the team began to disperse, Dr. Williams turned, his scrubs dragging against the arm of the victim. The world began to fade away in a heartbeat. Peyton’s focus narrowed on the dark ink on that arm. It’d been so covered in blood. His whole body had been covered in blood. She’d been focused on doing her job. Thinking of what she needed to do next to assist the doctor in saving this man’s life. His face was mangled from the car accident. Swollen beyond any recognition. Bones broken. Blood covered him from head to toe.
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With the world a blur around her, she stepped forward and dragged her hand up his arm. Someone was saying her name behind her, again and again, but she couldn’t look away. The blood smeared beneath her latex glove, until suddenly more of the tattoo appeared. A black-and-white Celtic cross, a nod to his Scottish heritage. Screaming roared through her mind, growing louder and louder. Until the screams shot from her mouth, shaking the very core of her soul.
“Peyton,” a low voice said again from behind her.
She scrambled forward, climbing onto the bed, straddling Adam. She began compressions, breaking ribs beneath her hands. Pop, pop, pop; each one snapped under her force. She dropped her mouth to his, not caring about the blood, forcing air into his lungs.
“Peyton,” the voice repeated.
“It’s Adam,” she screamed, desperately pumping her hands again, begging his heart to start. So much blood. Tears rolled down her cheeks. He was so cold.
Suddenly a hand grasped her arm. “Peyton.” The voice was softer now.
She slapped the hand away. “You cannot die on me,” she cried, banging her hands against Adam’s chest. “I need you. Don’t you dare leave me.”
“Peyton,” the voice said once more before strong arms wrapped around her, forcefully removing her from the bed and placing her on the floor.
She fought against the unbreakable hold, tears raining down her cheeks, her scream so foreign she didn’t even recognize her voice. “I can save him,” she roared, her throat raw. “Please let me save him.”
“You can’t,” the person said. “I tried, Peyton. He’s gone.”
Dr. Williams…that’s who held her. Somewhere in her mind, the comforting voice of a friend broke through her shock. She stopped fighting but continued staring at the tattoo on his arm, sobbing against her dark, cruel reality.
“Adam,” she howled.
“Fuck, Peyton.”
She blinked, suddenly aware of Boone next to her on the couch. Tears flooded her cheeks, and she wasn’t even sure what she had said exactly, but by the pity in Boone’s eyes she assumed she told him everything from that night that changed her life forever. She wiped at her tears, noting the shaking of her hands. “Please don’t pity me. I can’t take that.”
Naughty Stranger Page 14
