The heaven he found by being inside her was so perfect it hurt. Maybe because the moment held the first hint of peace he’d tasted, or maybe because the good never lasted—at least not in his life.
Either way, when her internal walls rippled around him and she cried out his name, he thrust harder, faster, and fell into the storm. He came hard, grinding into her, his heart ramming against his ribs. His heart swelled until his ribs ached.
Finally, he slowed and slid a gentle kiss on her mouth. One he hoped conveyed more than a simple thank-you. She was real, and good, and feminine… and he’d never forget the time he’d spent with her. Once away, he’d remember her scent, her sounds, her skin. So soft and kind, she’d let him in for a brief time.
She sighed and then winced as he withdrew. Turning, she shoved her butt into his groin and was sleeping within a minute.
He grinned into the darkness and tucked her close. Taking a moment, he tuned in to the universe outside of the apartment, identifying people, animals, and vehicles. Nothing seemed threatening, so he allowed his mind to drift.
His woman sure fell asleep easily.
He jerked fully awake. His woman? Not only was the thought impossible, he wasn’t a caveman. But the feelings she evoked were raw and primal… and he wanted to keep her safe.
For an hour or so, he measured her heart rate and breathing. He’d learned to exist on little sleep, and genetically he was fairly certain the scientists had helped him along there. He should get up and contact his brothers, but instead chose to enjoy the sleeping woman in his arms.
So he knew the second her dreams turned frightening.
She twitched. He could hear her heart rate increase and her breath shallow into pants. She cried out in a small voice filled with terror. “Blood. God, make it stop. So much blood.”
“Laney, wake up. You’re safe.” He ran a palm down her side.
She screamed and lurched across the bed. Only his enhanced reflexes kept her from dropping to the floor. She struggled against him, fighting hard, nailing him in the thigh.
“Laney. Now.” He put the bite of a command in his voice, and she stilled. Then he flipped on the light and released her.
She sat in the middle of his bed, nude and fragile, her eyes opened wide, her breath panting out.
He waited until recognition filtered through her eyes before holding out an arm. “Come here.”
She immediately launched herself at him and tucked her head beneath his chin. The small whimper she gave as she tried to get inside his skin sliced his heart in two.
Slowly, he turned off the light and snuggled them both down beneath the bedclothes. He kept his voice calm when all he wanted to do was kill something. Whatever had frightened her so badly, he’d take down. “Bad dream?”
She snorted against him, holding him tight. “You could say that.”
He focused and relaxed as her heart rate returned to a normal level. “Want to talk about it?”
A long shudder shook her body. “No.”
“I get nightmares, too. It helps to talk about them.” He smoothed hair off her damp shoulder.
Her shrug was the only response he received.
He shut his eyes and exhaled slowly. Now wasn’t the time to push her. “Go back to sleep. I swear to God nothing will hurt you on my watch.”
As a vow, it was a good one. Apparently, she believed him, because soon she was back to sleep. This time peacefully.
He kept track of the world as she slept, wondering whose blood she’d seen in her dreams. Who had scared such a kind woman? If he managed to track down a way to save his brothers and himself, the very next mission would be to help Laney. Yeah, it was a big if. For the first time, he wondered if he would have a life after the next six weeks. Since he’d discovered Tasha, the coroner, was the surgeon he hunted, did they have a chance at surviving?
He allowed himself to drift off into a light sleep to recharge his energy. Since he slipped barely under, he failed to shield himself from the terrors of the past.
The dream took shape as a memory from five years previous, when he and all three of his brothers trained at headquarters. It was the first time all four of them had been in the same place at the same time, since their trainers always had one or two of them out on a mission, the threat of death hanging over the others.
He’d loped into a jog to make a squad leader’s meeting when a hard body slammed him into the cinder blocks. He turned and shoved a shoulder under his attacker’s chin, not surprised to see it was Emery.
Even as an adult, Emery was an asshole.
Emery fell back, a malicious smile on his smooth face. “I watched training earlier. Have to say, your brother is out of control.”
Matt growled and refused to rub his aching shoulder. He didn’t need to ask which brother Emery had watched. Ever since Audrey had dumped Nathan, he’d been out of control. Reckless and dangerous. “Worry about your own brothers. I’ll take care of mine.”
Emery’s dark brown eyes gleamed with an odd light. “Your loyalty makes you weak.”
“If you don’t understand, I can’t explain it to you.” Matt studied the man he’d known as a mean kid. Time to tip his hand a little to get information. “Don’t you want out of here? Want to find peace?”
Emery threw back his head and laughed. “Peace? Hell, no. Fighting, killing, being a machine? That’s who we are.” He eyed Matt, probably looking for an opening to strike. “Your weakness for Nathan will take you down. Soon.”
Ah. There was the opening Matt had been searching for all week. Something was up. He lunged and shoved Emery hard against the wall. “What do you know?”
“Nothing.” The lie held a dark tenor.
“Liar.” Matt shoved harder. There was only one reason all of his brothers would be in the same place at the same time. The commander had something planned. Something bad. Pure instinct told Matt it was about Nate, considering he was plunging off the deep end. “If anything happens to Nate, I’m taking you out,” he said quietly to Emery.
Emery pushed him. “You can try.”
Matt released him. Yeah, it was time to blow the place to hell and find freedom—now might be his only chance. “Don’t make me kill you, Emery.”
Emery smiled again. “Someday I’m going to bury you—after I get to your brothers and everything you ever cared about.”
Five years later, Matt forced himself to awaken. Without question, Emery would come after Laney if he knew about her. Matt’s heart thudded, and he took several deep breaths. He’d always wondered if he had made a mistake in allowing Emery to live when the compound blew. While the commander had been safely underground at the first hint of trouble, Emery had been vulnerable in one of the weight centers.
But Matt couldn’t kill him. Everyone deserved a shot at freedom. Hopefully Matt hadn’t made a mistake that would get one of his brothers, or now Laney, hurt.
He tucked her closer, allowing the scent of woman to calm him.
Dawn arrived with the cacophony of robins outside the window, and he let Laney sleep. The sounds of the carnival rose in force outside as early booths were set up. The bar didn’t open until later that morning, so there was no need to hurry.
She awoke and shoved hair away from her face. “Race you to the shower.”
He grinned and gave her a head start. Yeah, he wanted to push her for answers about her dream—hell, he wanted her to trust him. But that took time. Instead of pushing her, he washed her head to toe and enjoyed every single second. He tried for more, but she slapped his hands, saying they had to get down to the bar.
So he dried her and quickly yanked on jeans to pad through the apartment.
She threw on one of his old shirts and hustled toward the door. “I’ll go get dressed, and then we can head downstairs.” She frowned. “Where’s my bra?”
He turned his back to her and headed into the bedroom to fetch it from the top corner of the bookshelf. Apparently he’d thrown it rather hard. Returning to the room, he st
opped short at the sight of her face.
She’d lost all color. Her pupils were dilated, and her hands shook around her shoes.
He stepped toward her. “What’s wrong?”
She stepped back. “Um, nothing. I mean… well… cramps. They hit hard. Really hard.” Her gaze dropped to his abs as she spoke.
How cute. She was embarrassed by cramps. He tossed her the bra. “No worries. I’ll meet you in a few minutes.”
She fumbled for the door, all but running out of the apartment.
He blinked, frowning. Now, that was confusing. With a shrug, he went to dig out a shirt to wear. It was time Laney Jacobs leveled with him.
Chapter 14
Laney scrambled into her apartment, her breath rushing out. God. When Matt had turned around, she’d seen his bare back for the first time. Shock had filled her seeing at the scars along his back, and then her heart had stopped as she’d noticed the surgical slice adjacent to his 4C vertebra.
How was that even possible?
One look and she’d known exactly what the cut meant. Exactly what killing device lay just under his skin—ready to detonate and kill him.
If he realized who she was, he’d kill her. Or rather, he’d dump her in the back of his car and return her to hell. She knew his training, and she knew she’d never escape him if he figured out who she was. What she was.
She had to run.
She yanked on clothes and headed for the go bag in her closet.
He knocked on the door.
She twirled around, and a rock crashed into her gut.
The door opened, and he poked his head in. “Smitty’s yelling for us. It’s time to open.”
When she swallowed, she tasted blood. Had she bitten her lip? “Oh yeah. We should go.” Fetching a hair clip off the counter, she fastened her hair up and forced herself to walk toward Matt. The first break she got during the day, she’d run. Hard and fast.
She shot him a smile and almost yelped when he grabbed her arm.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked. “You’re white as paste.”
Numb, she nodded. “Yes. Really bad cramps.”
“Oh.” He led her outside and shut her door, waiting for her to lock it with fumbling hands. “If you start feeling poorly, you need to go rest today.”
“I’ll be fine. No worries.” She swallowed. The scars on his back didn’t lie. He stood next to her, suddenly large and formidable. Dangerous. Deadly, even. They reached the bar, and she all but ran for Smitty.
He snapped his lime green suspenders. “Everything is ready. I have soup on and burgers ready to go. Open the doors, Matt.”
Matt loped over to unlock the main doors. “I’ll get beer in plastic cups ready,” he said, returning to the bar.
The first few customers wandered inside, many carrying balloons and stuffed animals. Apparently the carnival had been going for some time. Laney kept to pouring drinks, her gaze on the exits. She had to get out of there.
An hour in, Smitty asked Matt to help with the garbage, and she found her chance. She moved to retrieve her purse from under the bar.
A cry of angst filtered through the crowd. Laney turned, her heart kicking into gear. June rushed inside, carrying her limp grandson.
Laney’s feet rooted in place. Fear roared her heartbeat through her ears. “June?”
“It’s Phillip,” June rushed, her eyes filling with tears.
Panic raced down Laney’s spine as she looked at the little boy. His lips were turning blue, and his eyes were fluttering shut.
What the hell?
Laney hurried around from the bar, her gaze on the little boy. “What’s wrong?”
June started crying. “I don’t know. He fell down the street, and he’s having trouble breathing.”
As they came closer, panic cascaded off them. Phillip’s eyes flipped open, filled with fear. Laney stepped back, her stomach revolting. His lips shouldn’t be that color. She searched frantically for help. Smitty and Matt had taken out the garbage. There was only her.
June lay her grandson on the bar. He gasped for breath.
“Oh God,” Laney murmured. How hurt was he?
It had been too long.
She swallowed down bile and launched into action. There was no choice. If she didn’t do something, the boy might die. So she shoved all thought, all feeling out of the way to be dealt with later.
“Call 911,” she ordered, reaching for his abdomen. “What did he fall on?”
June patted his legs. “The crane operator already called the paramedics. They’re coming.” She battled back tears. “He was running and tripped, flying into the fire hydrant.”
Laney focused on the now-wheezing boy. She couldn’t let him die. “It’s okay, Phillip. We’re going to fix this. We probably have a rib fracture, but let’s check out the rest of you.” That quickly, she fell right back into the jargon. “Okay. Inhale, and let’s check your pain level.”
Phillip frowned. “Huh?”
“Breathe.” She ran her hands over his neck and head, peering closely at his pupils.
He sucked in air and winced. “Hurts.”
She nodded. “Okay. Breathe again.” She leaned in and listened for crepitus. Yep. Crackling. She gently slid her fingers along his upper ribs. “Does this hurt?”
“Yes.” Tears filled his young eyes.
The sound of sirens trilled through the day. Thank God. An ambulance screeched to a stop outside in the alley, and two paramedics carrying a stretcher rushed inside followed by Matt and Smitty.
Laney focused on the medical personnel and tried to use layman’s terms. “Broken rib, most likely the second one. Local tenderness and crackling over the fracture along with pain when inhaling. No allergies, no known medical problems. He’s going into shock,” she said tersely to one of the paramedics.
They kept moving forward. One turned toward her. “What kind of crackling?”
She leaned in. “Definite crepitus.”
The first man grunted as they lifted Phillip onto the stretcher. “Nice job. You a doctor?”
“N-no.” She shook her head. “I just watch a lot of television.”
The paramedic nodded and quickly rolled Phillip out to the ambulance with his grandmother following.
The bar quieted. Laney looked down at her trembling hands, and a roaring filled her ears. Then she glanced up to find Matt watching her. Betrayal glowed in his eyes only to be quickly veiled.
She thought when she’d seen the scar next to his spine there would be time to run. Apparently not. “What?”
“Definite crepitus?” he asked. His gaze remained closed, but a heart-stopping tension spiraled out from him.
How in the hell had he heard that? There was no way he could’ve heard. She opened her eyes wide. “I heard the term on Dr. Oz.”
His eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared.
He knew. He definitely knew.
The soldier wasn’t stupid, now was he? Heat filled her face so quickly her cheeks burned. Damn it. So she lifted her chin. There was no way to hide now.
His lip curled in almost a snarl.
Yeah. She’d seen that expression before.
The sheriff rushed through the front door, gun drawn.
Laney edged closer to the cop. “The ambulance already left, Todd.”
He pointed the gun at Matt as a deputy hurried over with handcuffs. “Matt Dean? You’re under arrest for the murder of Greg Garrison.”
Matt allowed the deputy to cuff his hands behind his back, his face remaining placid. “Greg is dead?”
“Like you didn’t know that,” Todd said.
Laney staggered back against the bar, her breath heating. How could Greg be dead? “When did he die?”
“Last night,” Todd said, holstering his gun.
“Matt worked all night.” She spoke without thinking. A frantic hope burst in her chest. If they took him in, she could flee. “But, well, he did disappear for a while—maybe an hour.”
Laney blinked as the door closed, fighting down shock and fear. There was no time.
She had to run. Now.
A series of low hums filled the one interrogation room in the sheriff’s office. Matt searched for the camera, finally finding the lens hidden in an air vent on the ceiling. Smooth cedar planks made up the walls, dingy tiles spread across the floor, and a scarred wooden table sat in the middle.
They’d secured his cuffs to a ring set into the table.
He could be free in seconds if he wished.
Instead, he waited until the sheriff finished reading a rather thin file. As an interrogation technique, it sucked. If the cop wanted to wait for Matt to speak first, he’d wait all day.
Except Matt needed to get out of the station and find Laney. How the fuck could she be the surgeon? But she was. Not only had she handled Phillip’s injury like a pro, the truth had shimmered in her eyes when she’d looked at Matt afterward. She knew who he was… what he was. Hell, maybe she’d even implanted the device that would soon kill him.
Anger rode through him, and he channeled the fury into ice. He could control his body, his mind, and his emotions. Shit. He wasn’t supposed to have emotions. So the ache in his chest was not from her betrayal. Not at all.
The sheriff gave in first. “I understand why you killed Greg, but why Claire?”
“I haven’t killed anybody.” Not true, but adding the qualifier “in your town” would sound wrong.
“We have a witness who saw you leave Greg’s home within the time frame for death.”
Matt shook his head. “Impossible. I’ve never been to Greg’s. What did your witness say?”
The sheriff shrugged. “He described you really well, height and weight. We’ll plug you into a lineup later.”
Bullshit. If a witness had accurately identified Matt, he’d be under arrest right now. The sheriff was bluffing and doing a decent job of it.
Sweet Revenge Page 14
