Deadly Obsession

by April Hunt

  This time, Zoey didn’t wait for Liam and Roman to lead. She rushed past them on the steps leading to Iron Bars. The first one upstairs, she grabbed the nearest set of keys—Roman’s—and burst into a full run toward his pickup.

  She’d already pulled away from the curb when the two brothers stepped outside. Roman, flashing his beloved truck a quick worried glance, waved her off as they headed toward Liam’s car.

  Knox had been on multiple tours of duty, in one of the most demanding military units around, and he’d come out unscathed. A few weeks home and he’d been shot. Zoey tried not reading into it or letting her mind wander to dangerous territory. But as she weaved Roman’s truck through yellow lights and cut people off in yield lanes, it couldn’t be helped.

  Cade’s defensive driving lessons put her at Georgetown’s drop-off zone in less than fifteen minutes. She’d barely thrown the truck into park before she barreled through the sliding glass doors and to the registration desk. “Knox Steele. He was brought in a while ago…a gunshot?”

  The attendant clacked on her computer without glancing up. “Are you family?”

  “Yes, she is.” Mouth set into a grim line, Grace didn’t look like a woman about to spring good news. When she reached Zoey, she pulled her into a hug, reading her panic. “It’s okay. He’s okay.”

  “Liam said he was shot.”

  “Lucky jerk only has a small chunk missing out of his shoulder. They’ve already stitched him up, although they refused to stitch his mouth closed—I’ve asked. He’s finishing up his statement to the police.”

  “What happened? How—?”

  “Don’t know. All I got from Cade before he went to the station to interrogate Stuart was that Knox chased him to some alley. He didn’t see him fire the weapon.”

  “Forensics will paint the entire picture.” Zoey focused on what she knew rather than all the questions up in the air.

  She pushed her hair from her face, realizing as she brushed her cheeks that they were wet. Not slightly damp. Not just an errant tear. She’d conjured Niagara Falls from her tear ducts and Grace, the good friend she was, simply handed her a fistful of tissues.

  She’d barely finished mopping up the mess when Liam and Roman entered the emergency room.

  “How is he? Have you heard anything?” Roman’s earlier annoyance had been replaced by worry.

  “He’ll live to piss you off another day,” Grace quipped. “Come on. I’ll take you to his room.”

  Grace led them through the back halls of the emergency department, and the whole way, Zoey imagined Knox, attached to tubes and wires, pale and plastic-looking from blood loss. He hated hospitals nearly as much as she did, so any kind of hospitalization would be nothing short of torture.

  Two uniformed cops stepped out from a corner room, one of them her friend Nat. Seeing Zoey, she walked over. “Now I know why you were running away from Steele the other day. He’s…intense. And a pain in the ass. Patients like him make me thankful that I became a cop instead of a nurse.”

  “Sounds about right,” Roman muttered, pushing Knox’s room door open.

  “Thank you, Nat,” Zoey squeezed her friend’s hand and followed Roman, Grace, and Liam into Knox’s room.

  He sat at the edge of the bed, shirtless, a white bandage slapped over his left shoulder. Cindy fussed at his side, and everyone talked over one another, stating concerns, or in Liam’s case, joking about turning himself in for the botched assassination attempt.

  Zoey remained behind a rolling chair, fighting the desperate urge to push everyone away and climb into Knox’s arms. She didn’t want to get in the way of a family moment, and definitely didn’t want to make this moment about her.

  Knox’s dark eyes caught hers from over Grace’s head. He’d been the one shot, and yet worry deepened his frown the longer his gaze remained locked on her. Zoey couldn’t ignore the escalating tremble in her heart anymore.

  She covered a breathless gasp by a fake cough and left the room with a softly muttered apology. The second she reached the hallway, a new onslaught of tears appeared. This time, she didn’t wipe them away, leaning heavily against the wall.

  She’d come way too close to losing Knox.

  Already.

  She’d reminded herself a million times daily that it was going to happen eventually. But there was nothing quite like reality smacking you in the face. And watching him walk out of her life was a hell of a lot different from him being ripped from it.

  It left her more than a bit shaken.

  “Zoey? I thought that was you.” Dr. Samuel approached, concern etched over his face. “Are you okay? No one paged me that you were here.”

  She wiped her dampened cheeks and straightened. “Oh, no. I’m okay. I’m not here for me. A friend of mine was brought in.”

  Dr. Samuel’s gaze strayed to Knox’s door. “I hope your friend’s okay. Who’s the attending? Maybe I could check on things and see if they need a second pair of eyes.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but that’s not necessary. He’s okay.” Which was why she should be inside the room with everyone else, rejoicing, instead of in the hall cowering.

  “You sure?”

  “Positive, but thank you.”

  “Then I guess I’ll see you at your follow-up…which you’ve yet to schedule with the office.”

  Zoey tried to laugh at his obvious warning, but it fell a bit flat. “I’ll do that first thing in the morning. Cross my heart.”

  A harried nurse hustled over to him, asking questions about a patient, and Zoey and Dr. Samuel parted ways. Knox’s door whipped open and the entire Steele lineup filed out.

  Liam saw her first. “We’re being kicked out by the patient—which means he’s back to his old self. You want a ride home?”

  Crap. Roman’s truck, if it hadn’t already been towed, still sat out front.

  Roman must have read her sudden panic. “I moved my truck to the emergency room lot so Knox can drive his own ass home.”

  A nurse slipped past them and into Knox’s room. Before the door even closed, his adamant protests filtered into the hall. All Zoey heard was overdue and injection, so she imagined the nurse wanted to give him a tetanus shot.

  “One way to cut hospital costs is to have as many nurses as possible take care of Knox. They’d all quit right after.” Ryder’s comment earned him a head biff from his mother.

  “Talk nice about your brother. He was shot.” Cindy Steele drilled her middle son with a warning glare.

  “In the arm, Ma,” Liam interjected. “It’s not like he got hit anywhere important—like his ass, where he does most of his thinking. And talking.”

  Cindy reached out to smack Liam’s arm, but he scooted away, chuckling. The nurse who’d just entered Knox’s room stormed out, stopping short at the sight of them. “Which of you is Zoey?”

  Everyone’s eyes slid to her.

  Zoey hesitantly raised her hand. “That would be me, although I’m not sure by your face that I should admit to it.”

  “Good luck with that one, honey. You’re going to need it, because he’s asking for you.”

  After declining a ride home, Zoey said goodbye to the rest of the Steeles and stood in front of Knox’s door a solid three minutes before stepping inside.

  Still sitting shirtless, he glanced up from the paperwork in his hand, something that almost looked like relief dropping his shoulders. “I thought you left.”

  “Nope. Still here.”

  He tossed the papers on the gurney and crooked his finger. “Come here.”

  “I’m okay where I am.” Zoey pushed her glasses higher onto the bridge of her nose and mentally cursed at the tear remnants dotting the lenses.

  Evidence that she’d more than lost her cool out in the hallway.

  Knox’s gaze remained fastened on her. “Well, I’m not okay where you are. You going to make an injured man get up and drag you over here?”

  “It’s your shoulder that’s the problem, not your legs.”


  He fought back a smile and crooked his finger again. “Angel.”

  She fought a losing battle, because she’d wanted to run to him the second Liam burst into the gym with news of the shooting.

  Lifting her chin, she took a wary first step, and then a second. After the third, she couldn’t hold back. She sprinted the rest of the way. Knox’s good arm hauled her between his spread thighs and flush against his body.

  “Are you okay? Really?” Her hands automatically drifted to his shoulders, and he sucked in a hiss. “Oh crap. Sorry. I should come with my own orange caution cones.”

  She stepped back, but Knox caged her against him with both arms, pulling her nearly nose to nose. “I like living dangerously. Why’d you hightail it out of here earlier?”

  “I…forgot to turn off my phone.”

  Knox searched her entire face before zoning in on her eyes. If he was half-good at his job, he’d see the truth staring back at him, plain as the nose on her face. And he wasn’t just good.

  He was great.

  “Zoey.”

  She shook her head, silently pleading with him not to continue. Barely hanging on to her wits as it was, she’d break if he called her out. Or worse, wanted answers. Half of the emotions going through her head she didn’t understand herself.

  “Roman left his truck here.” Zoey cleared her throat and pushed through the awkward silence. “So I can drop you at the marina…or we could go to my place. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want,” she added quickly. “If you’re up to driving, you could drop me off.”

  His heated gaze lingered on her lips, making her throat dry.

  “Aren’t you going to say something? Anything?”

  Knox stood, reaching for a clean shirt she hadn’t seen with one hand and held her close to him with the other. “I have plenty to say, angel. But I’m saving it for later.”

  With discharge papers in hand, he linked their fingers and led the way to the parking lot. By the time they’d reached Roman’s truck, she had a vise grip on his hand.

  “Sorry.” She released it, embarrassed.

  “Don’t be.” Knox opened the passenger door and waited for her to buckle up before getting into the driver’s side. A second after flipping the ignition, he entwined their hands again and pulled hers gently into his lap.

  Where he planned to lay his head tonight shouldn’t matter, but it did. Her need to touch him had grown more in the last few hours, and if he went back to his boat, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she’d have another sleepless night.

  Now, as Knox walked her to her door, she held her breath.

  “Is that offer to stay still good?” Knox rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand, but it felt as if he touched her entire body. Warmth slipped into her cheeks and to parts beyond. “I can head home if you’d rather be alone.”

  “No,” Zoey blurted out.

  “No? No the offer isn’t any good, or no you’d rather not be alone.”

  “You can stay. I’d like it if you stayed.” She took a deep breath. “I think I kind of need you to stay, if I’m being truthful right now.”

  A small smile tugged up the corner of his mouth, nearly melting her on the spot. “I was really hoping you’d say that, angel, because I think I kind of need to stay with you too.”

  Cupping Zoey’s cheeks, Knox leaned in for a slow, gentle kiss that she felt down to her toes. She carefully gripped his shirt and held him close, content to finally be in his arms. Her concern shifted away from alleyway shootings and raging serial killers and even the possibility of her jewelry being involved in a homicide.

  All Zoey could think about was that she’d only fully embraced her live-free lifestyle weeks ago and she was already having a difficult time envisioning Knox not being part of it.

  With one hand, he overturned the table in front of him. Its surface hit the wall, scattering debris to every corner of the room…and he wasn’t done.

  He ripped…crashed…destroyed. Nothing in his path was safe as his scream tore from his throat, coating the back of his tongue in blood.

  He’d fucked up.

  He’d had his chance, one that had taken hours of careful planning, of stalking and studying, and he’d squandered it in the blink of an eye. The second he’d pulled the trigger, he’d known he’d missed his mark.

  Instead of a bullet between the eyes, Steele had spun to the ground, crimson blood darkening his shoulder. HIS SHOULDER. His own inadequacy meant he hadn’t gotten a second chance.

  The price for his failure was watching His Heart, Her blue eyes wide with concern, run into the hospital.

  To Steele.

  He ripped the calendar off the wall, anger only barely held at bay at seeing the countdown. It had already begun. He’d made certain of it. With every red X, his goal came closer. He no longer relied on luck or happenstance, instead trusting actualities.

  It would happen.

  By holding his course, His Heart would come to him.

  And then Steele would be inconsequential.

  Chapter

  Nineteen

  The only thing more difficult than prying himself from Zoey’s bed this morning—with news she had to spend yet another day with his brothers—was watching Cade do things his way.

  The slow way.

  It wasn’t that he wasn’t effective. Cade knew his shit and they’d already gotten bits and pieces about what made the kid tick. But cops couldn’t force people to talk. Hogan Wilcox had been right on the money when he said that there was a lot of red tape in law enforcement.

  Knox watched from the observer side of the two-way mirror while his friend interrogated Rick Stuart for the third time that day.

  “I told you. I didn’t do anything. I’ve been keeping my nose clean.” Stuart sniffed as if thinking about his nose turned the damn thing on.

  “Innocent people don’t flee when the cops knock on their door, Rick. And you weren’t fleeing. You were flying like a bat out of hell,” Cade reminded, kicking his feet onto the desk in front of them.

  “Yeah, well. I don’t like cops. No offense.”

  Cade smirked. “None taken. I’m not particularly fond of thieves. Or attempted murderers. And I really hate serial killers.”

  Stuart’s eyes widened. “Attempted murder? Serial killer? What? No way, man. I may have stolen some shit, but I ain’t never tried to kill anyone!”

  “The hole in my buddy’s arm says otherwise.”

  Stuart was already shaking his head. “Not me. I don’t know who shot your guy, but it sure as hell wasn’t me.”

  “And why should I believe you? Two minutes ago you swore up and down that you keep your nose clean and now you say that you stole some shit.” Cade dropped his feet to the floor and leaned on the table, hands clasped casually. “I got news for you, man. I know you stole some shit. Your place was stacked with hot items taken from the Kingsbrooke burglaries as far back as last November. The question in front of us now is if we add murder onto the charge list. Where were you the night of April eighth?”

  “Fuck. I don’t know.” Stuart shifted in his chair. Rivulets of sweat poured down his forehead and into his eyes. “I was flying hi—I mean, I don’t know. But I know I didn’t kill nobody.”

  “You were high? Is that what you were going to say? Look, I don’t care about whatever habit you got that’s melting away brain cells. What I do care about is finding a killer.”

  Cade slid a photograph toward Stuart, and judging by the guy’s ashen face, it wasn’t a nice image. “Gin’s…dead? Who—who did this?”

  “Figured you’d be able to tell us.”

  “Me? No way, man. I l-loved her. I mean, we had our issues, but I treated her like gold. I’d never hurt her.”

  “What about the necklace around her neck. You recognize it?”

  Stuart studied the image again. “No, man. I’ve never seen it before.”

  “You didn’t give it to her? Maybe from one of your hauls?”

  Stuart
went quiet before shrugging. “I mean, yeah, I lifted a shit-ton of jewelry, but I grab and go. I don’t inspect the loot. I always gave Gin first crack at it, let her pick out anything she wants before I hock it. Keeps her happy and makes her feel special. But who gives a damn about a fucking necklace. Someone killed my girlfriend!”

  “Why don’t you tell us what you think, Stuart? Who could’ve done this to her?”

  “You’re the fucking cops. It’s your job to find out. Or maybe you don’t care because she wasn’t a pillar of the damn community.”

  “We’re doing everything we can, but sometimes we need a little bit of help.”

  “I can’t tell you what I don’t know. It’s been days since I’ve seen her. She’s been working a lot, trying to save some cash.”

  It continued for another thirty minutes before Cade nodded to the guard in the corner and they hauled away a visibly distraught Stuart. Ten minutes later, Cade stalked into the observation room. “What does your gut tell you?”

  “That your job would be a hell of a lot easier if all criminals were as dumb as Stuart. But I also think that necklace was a coincidence,” Knox admitted.

  Cade sunk into a nearby chair. “Thank fuck. As pissed as I am that we’ve hit another road block, I’m glad Zoey’s in the clear.”

  Knox too.

  Last night, he’d lain awake, too wired and too everything to fall asleep. He’d thought about the shooting, and about the chase through the alley. But his mind always drifted to the hesitant way Zoey had walked into his hospital room.

  He’d wanted nothing more than to lay eyes on her for hours and there she’d stood, looking as if the slightest noise would send her bolting away. It was a good thing the doctor hadn’t been listening to his lungs right then, because he hadn’t breathed until she sprinted into his arms. The only reason he’d let her go was because he hadn’t wanted to stay in that damn hospital another second.

  He knew she hated them. And hell, he couldn’t blame her.

  But the real reason was that he’d just needed to hold her. He’d told her the truth. He would’ve dropped her home and gone back to the boat if she wanted to be alone, but he was damn glad that wasn’t the option she chose.