Deadly Past

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Deadly Past Page 3

by Reus, Katie


  On instinct, he reached out and gently set his hands on her shoulders. “They’re gone, far from town. If they follow on the same trajectory, they’ll be hours north of us and into Georgia by tomorrow. Unless the Feds catch them, which I’m hopeful they will.”

  To his surprise, she took a small step forward, and he wasn’t sure how it happened, but suddenly she had her arms wrapped around him. He didn’t hold back either, just held her tight as her trembling finally stopped.

  “Normally I’m not such a mess,” she murmured against his chest. A subtle citrusy scent teased his nose, something all Autumn. “And you are a very good neighbor.”

  He laughed lightly as she pulled back to look up at him.

  For a hot moment, her gaze landed on his mouth and he saw raw, burning desire there. It sparked hot, a wild flash of fire, and he moved without thinking, dipping his head to hers.

  He told himself to stop, that they were neighbors and this was definitely a mistake, but she clutched onto his shirt and tugged him down the rest of the way.

  That was the thing that spurred him into action. She reached for him. Autumn actually reached—for him.

  The second their mouths touched, it was like an incendiary reaction. He swore sparks exploded as he hoisted her up onto the island countertop.

  He teased his tongue against hers as she practically devoured him, energy humming through her body, an electric live wire. When she tugged at his shirt, he didn’t even think, just ripped it over his head. He was vaguely aware of the dog running from the room, but all his focus was on Autumn.

  The way she tasted, the way she gently bit his bottom lip, the soft little sigh she made as he pulled her sweater over her head.

  And when he saw that she wasn’t wearing a bra, he groaned. Her nipples were a light brown, her breasts small, perfect and just a handful. More than enough for him. She was perfection—and he wasn’t walking away from this chance with her.

  He just hoped this was more than a one-time thing.

  Chapter 3

  Autumn drank her coffee, barely tasting it. Which was just disappointing since she looked forward to coffee every morning. Last night had been… She did not want to call it a mistake. It hadn’t been one, exactly, but it had definitely been a poorly thought-out choice.

  One she’d made four times over the course of the night.

  Lincoln had been a machine. A very sexy one with skilled hands and a wicked mouth. And she’d been so damn touch starved for ages. Not that she could put it all on that—she’d wanted Lincoln. Had ever since she’d met the straight-laced sheriff. God, what was wrong with her?

  She’d actually slept with her neighbor. Though there hadn’t been much sleeping involved.

  She silently groaned and took another sip of her coffee as she looked out over her backyard. Shadow was outside running around, chasing a butterfly and completely entertaining herself right now. Her pink and red roses were blooming, not that she did much to curate them, they were wild and grew when they felt like it. The pops of color against the lush greenery were vivid.

  “Something smells good.” The rumble of Lincoln’s dark, delicious voice wrapped around her as she turned to face him.

  Oh God. How was he even sexier in the light of day? He strode into the kitchen with no shirt on looking half awake, his dark hair mussed, which just made him look even more rugged. He looked so delectable in just boxer briefs, and that fine, powerful body that had brought her so much pleasure last night.

  “Morning,” she murmured, her gaze roaming over his hard pecs and six pack. “There’s a full pot of coffee.”

  He more or less stumbled to the pot which, yep, was adorable.

  She bit back a groan. Why had she ever slept with him? She’d kept him at arm’s length since moving in, but last night, something inside her had shifted. She’d simply needed to touch someone, needed sex, needed to feel alive. But she wouldn’t have reached for just anyone. Nope. Apparently she had a type—Lincoln.

  Not that it mattered. She would be putting them back into the box they’d been in before. The one labeled friendship. This had been a one-time thing. Actually saying the words out loud, however, was going to be difficult—and awkward.

  She cleared her throat. “Look, last night was amazing.” Though that verb didn’t remotely cover her feelings. She didn’t think there were enough descriptive words to explain how wonderful last night had been. She was sore in places she couldn’t remember being sore before. Probably because she hadn’t had sex in forever.

  He turned to face her, his incredible six pack on display—and his expression was dry. “Why do I think I’m not going to like what you say next?” He took a sip of his coffee, watching her carefully over the rim of the mug that said “number one art teacher”.

  She cleared her throat again. “We’re neighbors. If we jump into something, it has the possibility to end really badly. I’m certainly not moving, and I doubt you are either. I think we should call last night what it was and be done with it.”

  “So what was last night?” His voice was carefully neutral as he continued to watch her with those stunning eyes.

  She’d gotten boring brown eyes, whereas he had gorgeous green ones she could easily lose herself in. She looked down at her own mug to avoid his gaze. “Last night was fun. Really, really fun.” She cleared her throat nervously. “But I don’t have time for a relationship. Not that you’re asking,” she tacked on as she looked up at him again.

  She was more or less jumping to conclusions, but he’d hinted more than once that he wouldn’t mind taking her out. And from what she’d heard around town—directly from his sister-in-law-to-be—it wasn’t like he was a serial dater. In fact, he didn’t seem to date anyone at all.

  Besides, no way in hell was she getting involved with someone in law enforcement. Not when she was in WITSEC. It was simply too complicated.

  She didn’t do complicated anymore. She’d made the mistake of telling someone that she was in the program years ago—someone she thought she’d loved, though looking back, she now knew that she’d just been desperate for a connection. He’d been a charmer, a useless man who knew how to say the right things. Thankfully she’d seen through him—eventually—but she wasn’t making that mistake again.

  She’d been moved by her handler immediately—in the middle of the night. They’d come in, gotten everything in one swoop as if she’d never lived there at all. She hadn’t been able to say goodbye to anyone. Her handler had been extremely disappointed in her, but thankfully understanding. Autumn had sworn never to do something like that again and they’d given her a second chance. Nine years later, she hadn’t screwed up since then.

  “So you’re shutting us down before we even have a chance at anything? Because I would like to take you out on a date. More than one. Just so we’re clear on that. I want more than sex, Autumn. Though I want that too.”

  She stared into his eyes for a long moment, trying to find her voice. She hated to say no, but she had to make the hard choice. Had to draw that line. “It’s not a good idea,” she whispered. Before he could respond, she stepped forward, crossing the distance between them because she didn’t want things to be weirder than they had to be at this point. “Look, I swear it’s not you. I know that sounds like a jackass thing to say. I just… I don’t have room in my life for anything complex.”

  “I’m a very simple man. I have very simple needs,” he murmured again, his eyes dropping to her mouth.

  A shudder rolled through her at the heat in his expression. She wanted to throw caution to the wind but… “I want to be friends. We’re neighbors.”

  She could tell he wanted to argue, but after a long moment, he nodded. Then, surprising her, he kissed her on the forehead before sighing. “We can definitely be friends. And as your neighbor, if you need any help around here, you know all you have to do is ask.”

  There he went again being wonderful and perfect. Her friend Serenity was getting married to Lincoln’s brother, Lu
cas. She always talked about how wonderful her fiancé was. Maybe the Jordan brothers were all wonderful. Because they were all good-looking and all incredibly kind.

  Instead of acting like a jerk after she’d told him she wasn’t interested in more, he was actually being a damn grown-up. Which, perversely, made her decision a whole lot harder. She’d thought she’d be able to keep him at a distance easily now, had expected him to argue that he didn’t want just a fling. Instead he was being… Mature. Damn it.

  “Well, friends make each other breakfast,” she said. “Are you hungry? I’ve got a dozen eggs and enough stuff to make a really cheesy omelet.”

  His mouth curved up slightly even as he shook his head. “I’ve actually got to take care of a few things today and promised my mom I’d stop by the ranch.”

  She nodded because it was probably better that they made a clean cut like this. And she had a feeling that if he hung out here any longer this morning, they were both going to end up naked again, no matter what she’d just said. Which would just complicate things even more and make her look like a flake.

  Taking her by surprise, he kissed her again, this time softly on the mouth, but she leaned into it without conscious thought—because she was drawn to him like a magnet—before he pulled back. Then he murmured something about going to grab his clothes, and she felt like a giant dick.

  When she heard scratching at the back door, she let Shadow in right as Lincoln joined her in the kitchen. “At least take your coffee with you. You can return the mug to me later,” she said.

  Nodding, he plucked it from the countertop as Shadow whined softly, trailing after him.

  Yeah, she felt the same—she didn’t actually want him to leave but it was for the best. Something she was going to have to remind herself of probably a hundred times today alone.

  At her front door, he paused, his expression somber. “I’m serious, if you need anything around here, just let me know. No strings attached.”

  Her chest tightened as she looked up at him. She hated that things couldn’t be different—that she would always have secrets to keep. And if she really dwelled on it, she could admit she hated some things about her life, that all her choices had been taken away from her. But she refused to fall down that rabbit hole ever again. Refused to feel sorry for herself. She was lucky to be alive. Lucky to have this chance at all. “I will. Promise.”

  After he left, she sat on the floor against the door as Shadow jumped into her lap, kissing her face. She felt as if she’d just made a huge mistake but she simply didn’t think it was in the cards for her to ever be in a real relationship. And definitely not with someone in law enforcement.

  Just…no.

  When she heard a familiar ringtone coming from the kitchen, all her muscles pulled taut. It was the ringtone of her handler with the US Marshals. If Erica was calling, that was not a good thing. They rarely checked in with each other anymore.

  But Erica had very likely seen the news. Autumn had avoided being seen by any of the media but they might be able to get her picture if they dug hard enough. She didn’t have an official picture listed on the school website and she had no social media accounts. Still, she could have been listed as one of the people who had been at the bank robbery.

  At that thought, ice coated her veins. She wanted to see if the news had listed her as someone who’d been at the bank during the robbery. If they’d shown her face on any of the feeds, or if there were clips online…that would not be good.

  When the ringing stopped, she told herself that she would call her handler back later. She simply didn’t have the mental fortitude to deal with anything right now. Not after sending Lincoln away.

  Not after another damn disappointment in her life.

  Quickly, she turned on the news, hoping for a peek at something regarding the bank robbery and praying that they didn’t randomly show her face. She would also check online, doing a heavy search for any mentions of the robbery. That was where the real worry was, online.

  She didn’t want to move again. Hell, she refused to move again. She’d finally found a place she loved, finally had friends and a place that felt like home. No one was driving her out of her home again.

  Chapter 4

  Rand Coventry opened his eyes at the click of the infirmary door unlocking, then opening.

  “Son,” his father murmured as he approached the bed. As usual, his father wore a custom suit, but the jacket seemed to hang slightly today and his cheekbones were sharper than normal.

  He swallowed hard and pressed the button on the bed so that he could sit up slightly, ignoring the discomfort in his side as he moved. He was on an IV drip—morphine maybe, but he wasn’t sure because he could still feel a bit of pain.

  “I’ll see that the warden loses his job,” his father growled as he pulled up a chair next to the bed.

  Rand shook his head, or tried to, but it was too much effort. Once upon a time, his father had actually had enough clout to make something like that happen. He’d had judges in his pockets, men who mattered. All that had changed a decade ago.

  Everything had been ruined because of Ana Diaz and her big mouth. She should have taken a bribe…or hell, she should be dead.

  “It’s fine,” he rasped out even though rage surged through him. He was always angry, had been angry for ten years straight. He smothered it, hid it from everyone as best he could, but he didn’t belong in prison. And he definitely hadn’t deserved to get stabbed over a basketball. But here he was, lying in the prison infirmary, lucky the slice hadn’t been a few inches to the right and nicked his kidney. At least it was better than his cell—even if he did have a cell to himself.

  “I don’t understand what happened, how you ended up in the general population.” His father patted his hand gently but that was his only outward demonstration of affection. They weren’t technically allowed to touch anyway. Though the guard standing at the windowed door didn’t make a move to stop his father from putting his hand on Rand, at least.

  He flicked his gaze back to his father. Ten years ago, Tom Coventry had been a state senator, had been moving up in his political career and had been on the fast track to become a US senator. Now his father worked for a hedge fund, and he did well for himself, but it had never been his father’s dream. And Rand hated the Diaz bitch for taking that from his family as well.

  She’d ruined everything.

  “It was a stupid mistake,” he said, even though he wasn’t sure it was a mistake at all. He might’ve pissed off the wrong people. Who knew? At this point, he didn’t even care anymore. All he knew was that he did not want to spend the next twenty years in a prison cell. Death would be better. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered and closed his eyes.

  “It does matter,” his father snarled, the show of heat and emotion surprising him. He opened his eyes as his father leaned forward. “I haven’t forgotten, and if it takes me until I die, I will get justice,” his father whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

  His father’s rage-filled words fed his soul. Rand had thought that his dad had given up on trying to find her. The guard couldn’t hear them, but his father’s words were vague enough that Rand understood what he meant. She’d been in witness protection since the night she’d escaped what should have been a quick death.

  Ten. Long. Years.

  She’d been in hiding. Living her life while he was locked up in a six-by-eight cell with someone telling him when to eat, when to sleep, when to shower. Nothing in his life was his own.

  He pressed the button again so he could sit up a little farther. The guard at the door knocked once and made a motion for his father to step back.

  His father’s jaw tightened but he did as ordered, and sat down.

  “How’s work?” Rand asked, knowing they couldn’t talk openly about the bitch. Not when it was likely everything was being recorded.

  “It’s going well.”

  “How’s Mother?” He hadn’t seen his mom since he’d been arres
ted. She’d divorced his father, changed her last name and moved to the East Coast, far away from California.

  “I have no idea. Last I heard she was shacked up with some mechanic in South Carolina.”

  That surprised Rand, but he didn’t respond. He wasn’t even sure if it was true. It was impossible to imagine the proper, conservative woman who’d raised him living with some blue-collar asshole who fixed cars for a living.

  He knew he shouldn’t ask about his mother—she’d abandoned him when he’d needed her most. Had called him a psychopath for not being remotely sorry about what he’d done.

  Well, he still wasn’t sorry, because he’d done nothing wrong. That whore had wanted what he’d done to her. It wasn’t his fault she’d overdosed. Stupid. That was what she’d been. A stupid, stupid woman. He’d tried to explain all of that to his mother, to get her to see his side. But she’d simply stared at him in horror.

  Rand tried to banish the image of his mother looking at him with such…disgust, before she’d walked out on him the last time. His hands had been chained to the table, had rattled incessantly as he’d tried to lunge after her, to make her understand.

  “Try and get better,” his father said as he stood. “I’m going to see about getting you transferred again.”

  He’d already been transferred to three different prisons. It was impossible to keep what he’d done a secret. Not that anyone cared about him raping and killing a woman. Though the word “rape” was bullshit. But that was what he’d been accused of. No, they just didn’t like that he was rich, that he’d been born privileged. That he came from one of California’s wealthiest families.

  It wasn’t his fault, but everyone in prison hated him for it, and he suffered for it daily.

  Rand simply nodded at his father and pressed the button so the bed went back down. Even this little communication had taken so much energy out of him.

  Though nothing would ever extinguish the raging fire burning in his chest. Nothing, until he had his fingers wrapped around Ana Diaz’s throat, until he’d snuffed the life out of her completely. He wanted her to beg for mercy, beg for him to spare her. But he wouldn’t. She had to suffer for what she’d done to him and his family.

 

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