by Cynthia Eden
“I really want to fucking kill someone,” Ethan said.
Charles tensed. A brief movement, but a telling one.
“Got a particular target in mind?” Charles asked carefully.
That was probably what the guy was supposed to say. No judgment. He didn’t get paid for judgment. He got paid to make sure that Ethan stayed alive. Not to be his conscience.
“Yeah,” Ethan said. “I do.” Pity a man can only die once. But though most of his rage was directed at Quincy, a whole lot of that fury was turned straight at…me.
Carly had been alone after that attack. Alone because Ethan had stupidly believed sending her away would keep her safe. He’d wanted her out of the city so that no suspicion would ever be put on her.
He’d also thought—hell, that she wouldn’t want to see him right then. Not knowing…I drove that knife into the bastard’s heart with no hesitation.
Now the suspicion was on her and the pain—she’d carried it alone for years.
“Boss, is someone dying tonight?”
He tilted back his head. “Someone dies every night.”
Wasn’t that the sad fucking truth?
Chapter Three
“You shouldn’t have missed your appointment,” Dr. Keith Nelson’s voice held a chiding edge that Carly really didn’t like.
Considering that she’d missed the appointment because she’d been in the hospital, she certainly didn’t need his little guilt trip.
“It’s important for your progress,” he continued, his handsome face showing a delicate concern, “for you to keep meeting with me. You know you need—”
“This is my last session.” There. Bombshell dropped.
Behind the frames of his glasses, his green eyes widened. “That’s not something I can condone.”
There was something about Dr. Keith that had been bothering her for a while. She could never really relax in his presence. It was odd, but…he made her feel on edge.
Though she didn’t exactly know why.
Dr. Keith Nelson had come with the highest possible recommendation from her previous psychiatrist. He was an up-and-coming therapist with a thriving practice. Dr. Nelson was in his mid-thirties, with thick, blond hair, and a handsome but serious face. The glasses he wore—they gave him a distinguished air, though she’d secretly started to suspect he wore those glasses just for that air.
“Does this have anything to do…” Dr. Nelson asked her, “with the gentleman I saw you embracing outside of the building?”
She tried not to let her surprise show. The shrink had been watching that scene?
“Because,” he continued before she could respond, “I saw that you let him touch you, and touch has been such a very big issue for you to overcome.”
The ticking of the clock on the wall seemed incredibly loud. “This isn’t about Ethan.”
“Ethan.” He paused, then said, “Your voice softens when you say his name. You already feel a-a connection with him?”
The problem with shrinks—they could see too much. And when she felt like hiding, that wasn’t a good thing.
“Do you really believe you’re ready for a normal relationship?” Dr. Nelson pressed.
At that question, she had to laugh. “Who said anything about normal?” Normal wasn’t for her. She’d realized that long ago. Carly rose from the couch and paced to the window. When she looked down, yes, she could see Ethan’s car. But there was no sign of Ethan. Was he waiting inside the vehicle for her, shielded behind those tinted windows? Her hand lifted and touched the glass. “Normal is overrated. It’s not what I need. I’ve realized that.” She’d tried to stick herself in a normal world for so long, and she’d felt nothing. But when Ethan had come back into her life…
“Does he know about your attack?”
“Yes.”
Silence. Then… “While I applaud the level of intimacy you’re reaching by sharing with your new partner, I must caution you to—”
“No more caution. I’ve had plenty of caution.” Brisk now, she turned away from the window and faced the psychiatrist. When had he moved so close to her? “Thanks for all of your help, but I’m going to be taking a—”
He caught her hands in his. She flinched instantly and tried to draw back, but he held her tightly. “Do you see this?”
“Take your hands off me.” Her voice was flat.
“You aren’t done with therapy. You still tense up when I get too close—when most men do.”
Not Ethan.
His eyes narrowed behind the lenses of his glasses, as if he’d just read her thoughts. Isn’t that what shrinks are supposed to do? Know the patients, inside and out? “So you found one man who doesn’t scare you,” he said. “What happens when you’re done with him? Or when he’s done with you? I can help you. You need me.”
“Right now, I need you to let go of my hands.” She wasn’t going to say it again. If she had to do it, she’d be kneeing him in the groin or shoving her high heel down on his foot, just like she’d done to her attacker in the subway.
His lips parted. He glanced down at her hands. His fingers slid up, almost…caressing her wrists.
That one touch—it was wrong. She knew it with utter certainty. A caress. Far too intimate for a doctor to give his patient. It felt wrong.
She jerked away from him. “Trust me, I don’t need you.” She should have listened to her instincts with him long ago.
Shock had slackened his face. “Carly, I didn’t mean—” He broke off as heat stained his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I-I overstepped.”
And it was time for her to step out. “Bill me,” Carly said as she marched briskly for the door. “Because we are done.” Then she yanked open the door and swept past the empty reception area. As soon as she entered the elevator, she whirled back around because she’d heard the rush of footsteps following her.
“Carly, please!” Now Dr. Nelson’s voice broke a bit. “Let me explain.”
Blindly, she jabbed the buttons on the elevator. She wanted those damn doors to close.
“I…I feel deeply for you, Carly. I didn’t plan it, I—”
The doors closed before she could hear any more of his confession.
She sagged back. Some days were bad. Some days…were freaking insane.
***
Ethan’s fingers drummed against his knee. Carly hadn’t been inside the building very long. Maybe ten minutes, fifteen max.
So why was an edge of worry knifing through him?
He opened his door and glanced up at the building. Charles was still seated in the front of the vehicle. They weren’t exactly parked legally there, and when he glanced to the right, Ethan saw a cop approaching. Figured. Cops could usually smell him from a mile away.
“Drive around the block,” Ethan ordered Charles. “We’ll be waiting when you come back.”
Then he straightened and headed to the building. Maybe he was curious about the shrink—or maybe, hell, he was just curious about Carly.
And I want to be close to her. She was hurting when she left me.
He wanted to take away all of her pain. No, he needed to take it away. He entered the lobby and scanned the list of posted businesses on the building’s directory.
Ah…there he was. Dr. Nelson. Dr. Keith Nelson. Seventh floor.
The building already seemed pretty deserted, so Ethan didn’t have to wait long for an elevator to arrive. He gave a little nod to the security guy who glanced his way, then Ethan slipped into the elevator. Time to meet Dr. Nelson.
***
The elevator doors opened. Carly immediately shot outside, but then three steps later, she stopped as she finally took note of her surroundings.
She wasn’t in the lobby.
She was in the parking garage.
A car horn’s echo reached her ears. Most of the spaces in the garage were empty, and the place seemed strangely dark.
She turned back toward the elevator. The doors were already starting to close and she jabbed for the button to open them
once more. The button lit up beneath her touch and the doors began to open fully.
“Carly.”
Her shoulders tensed. Had she just heard her name? Or had she imagined that? She risked a quick glance over her shoulder.
And that was when she saw the man. Tall. Wide shoulders. Wearing a black ski mask. He’d just appeared from behind the nearby cement column.
She didn’t waste time on a scream. Instead, Carly shot toward the open doors of that elevator. She made it inside and turned for the control panel.
But he rushed in right behind her. He grabbed her, holding her tightly with his gloved hands. “Knew I just had to wait…long enough…” His voice was a low growl. “And you’d be mine.”
She twisted and kicked, punching out at him, but he held her tightly and he—he hauled her out of the elevator.
Carly screamed, as loudly as she could.
Too bad no one was around to hear her scream.
Again. It’s happening again. Because a man in a mask had come for her once before…one of Quincy’s goons who’d abducted her.
And back then, there’d been no one to hear her screams, either.
***
When the elevator stopped on the seventh floor, Ethan entered the hallway and walked slowly toward Dr. Nelson’s office. Gold lettering gleamed on the guy’s door. Ethan didn’t bother to knock. Instead, he opened the door and stepped into the reception area. No one was there.
The shrink needed better security. Much, much better. Just anyone could walk right inside.
Anyone had.
Another door waited just a few steps away. The shrink’s inner sanctum. Was Carly inside with him?
But then that other door opened. A man stood there, the light glinting off his glasses. He was a few inches shorter than Ethan, his body thinner.
“You!” The guy said, his eyes widening as he took a step back. “What are you—did Carly tell you what happened? Dammit, she sent you up here fast!”
Okay, the doctor knew him. How—they’d get to that part later. Right now…
He really didn’t like the guy’s tone. Ethan stalked forward.
“No!” The doctor threw his hands up. “It was a mistake, I swear! I didn’t mean—I wasn’t hitting on her.”
Fucking asshole. Ethan had already been in the mood for some violence before, and now this jerkoff was about to push him too far. “You’re her shrink,” Ethan gritted out.
“Not anymore.” The guy’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Carly discontinued therapy. And that’s not a good idea.”
“It is if her asshole shrink is hitting on her.”
The asshole in question flinched. “I know her, okay? And I saw the two of you together down there—I just wanted to warn her what a mistake she was making. She didn’t have to run to you and tell you what happened!”
Run to you. Actually, he rather wished Carly would run to him. All the damn time.
She’s not here with the doc. She left, no doubt upset. But he hadn’t seen her in the lobby. Had she been on a different elevator?
Without another word, Ethan turned away from the shrink. It was better to get away from him, far less tempting that way. If he lingered, he just might drive his fist into the man’s nose. Hitting on Carly—her shrink! She’d probably trusted the guy. Fuck.
He marched back into the hallway and headed for the elevator.
The fool was following him, nearly begging to get his face smashed in.
“She misunderstood the situation!” The doctor was huffing and puffing behind him. “That’s all! I would never take advantage of a patient.”
Ethan spun to face him. “You sure as hell had better not.”
The doctor’s mouth hung open.
Ethan gave him a cold smile. “You have no clue who I am, do you?” He realized this now. “You just saw me kissing Carly, and you figure I’m the boyfriend…”
“Aren’t you?” The shrink squared his shoulders. “You don’t know about her, okay? You don’t know…what she’s capable of doing.”
“Actually, I do.”
“No—you know the surface, that’s it! I’ve been trying to break through with her, but she deflects—”
“You’re a real damn chatty bastard, aren’t you? Doesn’t client confidentiality matter at all to you? Or are you just trying to drive me away from Carly because you stupidly think you have a shot with her?”
“I-I—”
“You don’t know me,” Ethan told him. “And you should really hope that you never see me again. Because if you do…then that means I’m there for one reason.” He gave the shrink a cold smile. “To kick your ass.”
“I-I—” His face flushed. “I’ll call the cops.”
Ethan gave a low laugh. “Right. ‘Cause they’ll keep you safe from me.” He gave a little salute. “You have your warning.”
He went into the elevator. The other man watched him with wide eyes. “You’re so wrong for her,” the shrink said. “She can’t—she shouldn’t be with someone like you.”
The doors were about to close. “Hey, doc,” Ethan called.
The man’s chin jerked.
“Fuck off,” Ethan said. The doors slid closed.
Bastard. Carly had gone to him for help, and what—the SOB had just been lusting after her? Maybe he should go back and teach the guy some well-deserved manners. A guy with that many degrees should have enough sense to treat a woman right—and not hit on a vulnerable patient.
I will kick his ass. The elevator doors opened. But a quick sweep of the lobby showed that only the guard was there.
Ethan forgot the dick shrink—for the moment—and strode toward the guard. “Gorgeous red-head, about five foot five, blue eyes.” His words came out rapid-fire.
The guard nodded. “I saw her come up.”
“When did she leave?”
The guard hesitated. “Just who are—”
“When did she leave?”
The guard swallowed. His hand nervously slid toward the radio on his hip. “I haven’t seen that lady leave.”
But—she should have left by then. He’d had time to go upstairs and come back down. Something was wrong with this scene. Very, very wrong.
“I’ll like to see your ID, sir,” the guard told him as he gave a grim nod.
“Is there a parking garage in this building?” Because if someone had taken Carly, then that person would have needed a different way to get her out.
Unless she isn’t being taken. Maybe she’s just being…killed.
“Yeah, yeah, there’s a garage below—”
Ethan didn’t stand around to hear anymore. He ran right for the stairwell that waited on the left. The stairwell was closer than the elevator.
The guard shouted, “I need your ID!”
“Screw that—just call the cops! A woman is missing!” Maybe he was jumping the gun, but he didn’t care. Not with the danger that was his life—the danger that he knew was stalking Carly. He’d thought she would be safe in the shrink’s office. That mistake was on him. Now he had to find her, fast.
Ethan threw open that stairwell door and raced down the steps.
***
He had the knife at her neck, but he wasn’t slicing open her throat.
“Make another sound,” the attacker said, his voice chilling her, “and I swear, you will never talk again.”
Her screams had stopped.
They were beside the back of a van. Big, black. The kind of van that had always made her instantly think…serial killer.
“We’re going for a little ride. And when that ride stops…”
What? She’d be dead? Because Carly knew—with absolute certainty—that if she got in the van, she was a dead woman. She’d read some study about that somewhere. Online. In some magazine. Somewhere. You were never supposed to get in the car and be taken from the scene—that decreased your survival chances too much.
She’d been taken before. When she’d been seventeen. She’d wound up with Quincy, hurting.
Trapped.
It couldn’t happen again.
I just need someone else to come out of the elevator. I need someone to see me. Even Dr. Nelson would be a welcome sight right then.
“When the ride stops, you’ll pay for what you did.”
Definitely going to kill me. So she had to move, and she had to move fast.
Because the elevator wasn’t opening. No one was rushing to her rescue. If she wanted to live, then she had to save herself.
“That’s right, don’t fight,” he said, sounding pleased. With one hand, he yanked open the back door of the van. She saw a rope inside. Handcuffs. Duct tape. Everything a good serial killer would need. “Knew you’d be a good girl…”
She punched her fist into his side, as hard as she could. She’d never been the good girl. She’d been the one breaking the rules, sneaking out, taking risks.
And even if she hadn’t…Good girls know how to fight back, too.
He yelled when she hit him. Carly lunged forward even as she felt the blade slice across her—not her neck, but closer to her collarbone and then—
“Carly!” That fierce roar seemed to shake the entire parking garage. She knew that roar. Ethan. He’d found her.
“Ethan!” She yelled back for him as loudly as she could. She wasn’t going to be quiet. Wasn’t going to be good. She surged forward, even though she fully expected to feel another slash from that knife.
Only…
There wasn’t a slash. Her high heels clattered across the cement and she rushed toward Ethan. He was running out of the stairwell, and she had never been so happy to see anyone in her entire life.
Then she heard the squeal of tires. At that sound, she glanced to the right. The van was barreling toward her. The headlights were so bright as they shone onto her, blinding her for a moment. Her attacker wasn’t coming after her with a knife. He was trying to run her down with his freaking van.
“Carly!” Ethan grabbed her hand and they went flying together, rolling hard when they hit the cement and tumbling over, again and again.
The van sped past them, never slowing and taking the curve on two wheels as it rushed toward the exit.
The squeal of tires echoed like a scream around her. Her body hurt—probably because she’d slammed into cement and Ethan’s hard body. Her breath heaved out, and she fought to calm her frantic heartbeat.
