Sweet Revenge

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “Crushed.” Matt swallowed, his ears ringing. “I crushed Dr. Rodriquez’s hand when he injected Nate with a concoction that almost put him in a coma.”

  She glanced at the door and back. “I’m sorry.”

  “So you showed up to continue his work? To implant us?”

  “I said no. The second I found out about the chips, I refused. Which is why I was locked up when the whole place exploded.” She shuddered. “I should’ve stayed and helped the wounded, but I ran… and I kept running.”

  “You’re done now.” Even if she hadn’t had a choice, she’d worked for the commander for at least a year. The damage she must’ve wrought. He released her hips and sat back. “How did you find Joe-Joe in Philly?”

  She licked her lips and tried to scoot back, relenting when he held her in place. “A kid I went to college with came from that neighborhood and used to tell fun stories about Joe-Joe and his pals. I headed that way the first second I could.”

  That was slightly plausible. “And then? Why Charmed?”

  A small smile lifted her pink lips. “Why not? I wanted a small town, away from Tennessee, and figured a place called Charmed had to be a good choice. It was a whim, and I’ve enjoyed my life there.”

  “I see.” Was she telling the truth? He wanted to believe her so badly.

  “Do we have a chance of surviving this?” she asked, her voice soft.

  “Yes. If you help me, I promise I’ll make sure you’re safe. Even if we don’t find the code, and I, ah—”

  She grabbed his shoulders. “I’ll help you in whatever way I can. You can’t die, Matt. You just can’t.”

  The desperation flashing across her face warmed him way too much. “Then I need to know everything you know… from the time they first approached you in medical school until the time you escaped. But first, tell me all about Colorado.”

  Laney dropped her bag on the main couch in her living room, acutely aware of the man at her back as he shut the door to her apartment. He dropped his bag next to hers, and her mind reeled. “You’re not staying here.”

  “Sure I am. We’re dating, it’s been a whirlwind, and we’re moving in together.” His voice remained level as he fastened the locks and maneuvered around the apartment, checking all of the windows. “You might as well start believing it so others will, too.”

  Matt in her space? All day and night? She shook her head even as tingles wandered through her abdomen. Sure, she still wanted him. The guy was sexy as hell, and he’d brought her to orgasm multiple times during their nights together. Now she knew he was strong and brave… and wounded. So terribly wounded as a kid in the horrible place. He’d survived, and that impressed her. Even so, they couldn’t stay together. “You’re not sleeping here.”

  “I am.” He finished his tour and returned to pat a couch cushion. Dare and determination hardened his cut jaw.

  “I am not sleeping with you again.” She said the words with force, reminding them both.

  He shrugged a massive shoulder. “Your choice.” A slight Southern accent lifted his consonants. “The sofa will do fine.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “My choice? Sex is fine with you?” Against all logic, she was furious. The man could just sleep with her without any emotion—without it meaning anything. Without trust?

  His eyes turned to slate and gleamed in assessment. “Darlin’, I could happily fuck you three ways to Sunday… just say the word.” The accent broke completely free this time, and hunger streaked across his face.

  She reacted without thinking, tightening her hand into a fist and aiming for his mouth. He could’ve easily blocked the hit. His gaze remained steady on hers, and he didn’t even flinch as she connected. Pain ricocheted up her arm to land hard in her shoulder. His jaw was made of rock.

  Slowly, deliberately, he wiped a spot of blood off his bottom lip.

  No anger, no expression crossed his face.

  For some reason, that was terrifying. Her breath panted out, and a roaring filled her ears. She’d never hit another human being in her entire life, and so she stepped back.

  “Stop moving.” His soft order held enough of an edge that her feet instantly halted.

  She swallowed.

  “Feel better?” he asked with a raise of one eyebrow.

  “Not really.” Her palms were suddenly sweaty. Hitting him had been incredibly stupid. The guy could probably kill her with his pinkie.

  “We should probably have some ground rules if we’re going to be roommates,” he said, his reasonable tone a deadly contrast to the tension emanating from him.

  She cleared her throat. “No more hitting?”

  “Yes. I’m not a guy you hit.” He cocked his head to the side. “Understand?”

  “You’re fine. Don’t be a baby.” He was trained. And big. Really big.

  He inhaled as if trying to draw in patience. “Just no more hitting. You’re better than that.”

  Heat spiraled into her face. “You don’t know me.”

  “Don’t I?” He slipped out of his leather jacket, his voice rumbling low in a tone that licked down her spine with heat. “I believe I know a lot about you. In addition, I suggest you play the part of the doting girlfriend until I get my picture from the sheriff. If anybody suspects the truth, I’ll have to take them out.”

  Her stomach dropped. “You’d hurt Smitty?”

  Matt blinked. “In a heartbeat. You understand my motivation here.”

  His brothers. He’d do anything to save his brothers, including harming somebody innocent. “You can truly be an asshole.”

  His chin lowered. “I’m glad we’re seeing eye to eye. Smitty’s safety is in your hands. You control who gets hurt here.”

  “I’m not that good of an actress.”

  “Bullshit.” Fire leaped into his eyes. “You had me fooled from day one, and that’s not easy. Which brings to light my final rule.”

  Rule? The anger returned full force. “Which is?”

  He manacled her elbow. “No more lying. Period. If you even think of lying to me again, I promise you won’t like the result. You won’t like me.”

  “I don’t like you already.” She jerked her arm free. Anger and hurt ached through her. “Let’s go get the sheriff’s phone so we can forget all about this charade. I’m not a good enough liar to pretend I’m dating you. Not even close.”

  “Fine by me.” He reached back into his bag and tugged out a masculine silver bracelet. “Give me your wrist.”

  She faltered and then held out her hand. “You don’t seem a bracelet kind of guy.”

  “I’m not.” He wound the heavy silver twice around her left wrist. While chunky, the jewelry was surprisingly intriguing. “Do not take this off.”

  She shook out her arm. “Why not?”

  “The clasp has a transmitter so I can find you.” He took a deep breath. “Let’s go find the sheriff’s phone.”

  “You got it.” She’d remove the bracelet the first chance she found.

  Somebody rapped several times on the door, and they both turned.

  “Laney?” Smitty called. “The police are here and need to talk to you.”

  She gasped and cut her eyes to Matt. He drew his gun from his bag and slipped the weapon under his shirt against his lower back. Finally, he nodded toward the door. “Answer it.”

  Chapter 17

  Laney’s knees trembled as she pulled open the door to reveal a man in a dark blue suit.

  Smitty tilted his head, Eugene sprawled in his arms. “FBI guy.”

  “Agent Patterson,” the man said, holding out a large hand. He had to be about thirty with numerous laugh lines that spread out from hazel eyes. He stood to about six feet tall with lean muscles.

  She shook his hand. “Laney Jacobs.”

  Matt stepped to her side and slipped an arm around her shoulders. He extended his free hand. “Matt Dean.”

  They shook.

  “Nice to meet you,” Patterson said. “May I have a few moments
of your time?”

  “Of course.” Matt pulled Laney to the side. “Come on in. We were moving my things over.” He tugged her to sit on the sofa.

  Her mind spun, and she tried to keep from blanching.

  Patterson sat on the matching floral chair and drew out a notebook.

  Smitty shuffled his feet. “The cat and I are going back to work.” The door shut behind them with a decisive click.

  Patterson clicked a Cross pen into action. “You’re moving in, hmmm?”

  “Yes.” Matt drew her closer, his tone the right amount of truth and anticipation. “Do you believe in love at first sight, Agent?”

  Patterson glanced around the apartment. “I don’t know, but I’m not opposed to the idea.” He surveyed Laney. “What about you, Miss Jacobs?”

  The solid arm around her shoulders provided both security and threat. She had no doubt Matt would take out the FBI agent. Even if Patterson was trained, Matt had learned from birth to fight. Matt’s casual mention of love spiraled through her, leaving an odd hurt.

  She’d never admit it out loud, but being loved? Yeah, she wanted that. Even more so, being loved by a man like Matt would be all-encompassing. She was just realizing that she had love to give, and she could do that. Could actually give part of herself to somebody else.

  Now she did have other feelings for him, and right now, they were edging toward homicidal, so she dug her nails into his thigh and plastered on her sweetest expression. “Please call me Laney. I fell for Matt the first second I saw him.” There was enough of a ring of truth in the statement the hurt spread.

  “See why I love her?” Matt smiled and adjusted their position so he could clasp her shoulder… beneath her hair. His grip tightened until she retracted her nails.

  Patterson nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  Matt released her and played with her hair with a warning tug. “I’m confused as to why the FBI wants to speak with us.”

  “The notes Laney has received are part of a case I’ve been working on for more than five months.” Patterson scribbled something in his notebook. “We’ve been tracking a serial killer in the Pacific Northwest who leaves romantic notes for his victims, rapes them, and kills them.”

  Her body went cold. Head to toe, ice flushed through her. “Serial killer?”

  Matt stiffened. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes.” Patterson tapped his pen on the notebook. “My partner is with the sheriff right now analyzing the notes, and we have an expert profiler flying in hopefully tomorrow.”

  “How many women has he killed?” Laney asked, her breath catching.

  “Five, counting Claire Alps,” Patterson said soberly.

  “Commonality between victims?” Matt asked, suddenly all business.

  Patterson shook his head. “Young, professional, beautiful. And—their domiciles. Towns in the west like Charmed, Faith, Serenity, Peaceful Valley…”

  Seriously? Her choice of a sweet-sounding town had put her on a killer’s radar? Laney instinctively snuggled closer into Matt’s side. He might not like her, but he wouldn’t let anybody beat her to death. God. She’d been afraid of the commander and his followers for so long, it was surprising she could feel this new wave of fear.

  “You’re safe, Laney,” Matt said, running a reassuring hand down her arm. “I promise.”

  “Actually, you’re in danger.” Patterson clicked the notebook closed. “I’d like to put you in a safe house while we hunt this guy.”

  Matt lifted his chin but remained silent while tangling his fingers with hers. The message was clear, however. He’d let her be the one to refuse protection, and she didn’t have a choice.

  She needed to take control of the situation. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m staying right here. Matt is a former marine, and I feel safer with him. This killer isn’t going to make me abandon my life like this—it’s time he was caught.” She sounded so much braver than she felt.

  Plus, right now, the biggest threat in her life was currently holding her hand.

  Patterson shook his head. “I’m sure you’re trained, Mr. Dean, but we can keep her safe.”

  “I appreciate your offer,” Matt said calmly. “But she’s staying here with me.”

  Yeah, right. They were skipping town the second Matt got his hands on the picture.

  “Okay,” Patterson said, his tone implying the refusal was anything but okay. “I understand you’ve been questioned by the sheriff, Laney, but I’d like to nail down the timeline a little bit. When did you receive the first note?”

  She recalled the events methodically for the agent, answering each question, trying to remember anybody who’d seemed threatening. There wasn’t a soul. Matt remained silent during the interview, his solid presence oddly comforting.

  Finally, Patterson wound down and turned toward Matt. “You arrived in town just after the notes started?”

  Matt shrugged. “I don’t know when the notes started. I arrived in town last week.”

  “Uh-huh.” Patterson’s eyebrows drew together. “Do you have a criminal record, Mr. Dean?”

  “Nope.”

  “How long have you been out of the service?” Patterson asked.

  “About two years.” Matt tugged Laney’s hair again.

  “I see.” Patterson’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “What have you been doing for the last two years?”

  “Traveling. Trying to find myself,” Matt said easily. “As luck would have it, I found Laney. All I ever wanted.”

  Laney’s smile was beginning to hurt her jaw. All he ever wanted? Yeah, right. He was full of crap. The words sent an initial happiness through her, but they were a lie. Hurt and anger comingled through her until her head ached. “What a sweet thing to say.” She shifted her weight and dug her elbow into his ribs. Hard.

  Not by one inch did he react to the dig. “No, you’re sweet.”

  Patterson’s phone buzzed, and he read the face. “The local sheriff said you refuse to provide either DNA or fingerprints to rule you out for Claire Alps’s murder.”

  “Yes.” Matt drew Laney close enough she couldn’t jab him with her elbow again. “I’m not exactly trustful of the small-town sheriff or his labs.”

  “How about the FBI’s lab?” Patterson asked smoothly.

  “Sorry.” Matt didn’t sound sorry. “I’ve had enough experience with big government to be cautious, and since I didn’t harm Claire in any way, you don’t need my prints or DNA.” He turned toward Laney. “Right, sweetheart?” A promise of retribution for the jab glinted in his eyes.

  “I totally agree,” she said.

  Patterson cleared his throat. “Miss Jacobs? Please don’t take this the wrong way—” He paused as Matt turned his attention back to the him. He swallowed. “But, well, you don’t know Mr. Dean. It is quite the coincidence this murder occurred when he’d arrived in town… and the series of murders are in different towns. Probably committed by somebody ‘traveling and trying to find himself.’ ”

  A chill swept through her. Was it possible? There had been time for Matt to have killed poor Greg… and even Claire. “Matt is innocent, Agent.” If nothing else, she had to keep the FBI guy safe. If he suspected Matt, he wouldn’t make it out of the apartment.

  Patterson’s lips drew into a fine line. “All right. I’m sure you understand to be careful, and please contact me if you receive another note or if something else concerning the case occurs to you.” He stood and headed for the door. “We aren’t finished, Mr. Dean.”

  He let himself out.

  Silence encompassed the apartment for a moment, and she refused to look at Matt.

  He drew his cell phone from his pocket and pressed speed dial. “Shane? My cover needs to be deep enough to withstand FBI scrutiny. So does Laney’s. Shore them both up—and get the files on a possible serial killer in the northwest murdering women who live in quaint-sounding towns. I’ll give you a call later to explain.” He disconnected the call. “So, lover. What now?”

 
She ignored the sarcasm. “I can’t believe any of this.”

  Matt rubbed his chin and shoved to his feet. “Me, either.”

  She frowned. “You think Patterson was lying?”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But by tomorrow morning, I’ll know everything the FBI does about the case.” He took the gun from his back and checked the clip. “Why are there so many serial killers in the northwest?”

  “It’s the rainy season,” Laney muttered before she could stop herself. “Not enough sun.”

  Matt raised an eyebrow. “Vitamin D deficiency, huh?”

  “Maybe.” She hated that he actually got her odd sense of humor.

  “You chose Charmed because of the name. I guess it’s possible a serial killer is drawn to the same weird name.”

  Her mind struggled to realign the facts. “I know it’s possible, but how could I have the commander, you, and now a killer hunting me?”

  “Born under a bad sign?”

  She coughed out a laugh. Yeah, she understood his sense of humor, too. “Were you serious about believing in love at first sight?” She hadn’t meant to ask the revealing question.

  He shoved the clip back into place. “Hell if I know. Truth be told, I’d have figured we weren’t genetically disposed to have love, or feel love, or whatever you do with feelings.”

  “But?”

  “One of my brothers found love—the real kind. He even got married.” Matt put the gun back into place. “So, I guess it’s possible.” Concern filtered through his eyes for a moment.

  “Why is that bad?” she asked.

  “Because there’s a good chance we’re all dead in less than two months, and who will protect her? She’ll be all alone, and if anybody is left from the organization, they’ll hunt her. She knows too much.” Matt scrubbed both hands down his face. “So we either need to survive this, or I need to destroy the organization to the point it’ll never recover.”

  “What’s her name?”

  He shook his head, and Laney tried not to let the rejection sting. Trust didn’t exist between them. What would it be like to have Matt’s trust and loyalty like the mysterious sister-in-law had?

  A shudder wound through Laney. “How many people will you kill to ensure her safety?”