by Cynthia Eden
He considered her words. “You’re right. I’m pretending to be normal, and I’m not.”
“Flynn—”
“Should I stop pretending? Just be the man I really am?”
“You are a good man. Jay dug into your past, you know that. You were a decorated Navy SEAL. A real-life hero. That’s who you are.”
“Most of my files were classified. If Jay did get access to them, he’s not sharing what he learned. I know that my family died in a fire when I was ten. My mom and dad burned, but I apparently escaped without so much as a scratch. Jay said I bounced around foster homes for years after that. Then I took a job that adrenaline junkies would love. A job that put me face to face with danger and death every single day. I killed on that job. I killed before and after Lazarus.” He paused. “Tell me, Dr. Gregory, if you had a patient who came to you with that particular past, what would you think about him? That he was a good guy? Or that he might be something far different?”
But she just gazed up at him with her gorgeous eyes and seemed to see straight through him. “Why do you want me to view you as a monster?”
“Because it’s how I fucking see myself.” The words burst from him. Flynn was determined to give her the truth. “I was designed to kill. Brought back from the dead to be the ultimate weapon. You ask me why I don’t drink, why I don’t go to clubs—because I can’t do that shit. It’s too dangerous for me to let my control waver for even a moment.” He gave a grim shake of his head. “Too dangerous.” Now he had to push her just a little more. “And you know it. That’s why you’re afraid of me.”
She backed away from him. “You don’t know how I feel.” Once more, Cecelia started hurrying down the sidewalk.
He easily kept pace with her. “I know when your heart races, I know when your breath turns into pants, I know when your scent deepens—”
“My body can give those signals for a variety of reasons. All you’re seeing is the physical.” She walked even faster. “You don’t know the emotional. You don’t know what’s happening inside of me.”
He caught her, held her easily, and pushed her into the narrow entrance of an alley—one they’d just passed. The small pathway was lodged between two buildings and the walls were made of old, red brick. He put his hands on either side of her head, and his body caged her in place. He didn’t touch her, not yet, but Flynn wanted to. He wanted to put his hands all over her. He’d wanted that for a long time.
“We just left a dead girl’s apartment.” Her voice was shaking. “I want to get to the club. I want—”
“Proving a point,” he gritted out. “That’s what I want to do. I want to prove something to both of us before we take another step.”
Her breath was coming in pants. Her body was stiff.
“You think because you’re the psychiatrist, you’re the only one who can read people?” Flynn pushed. “No, not true, Cece. I can read you. You’re scared of me, but you want me, too.”
“Flynn…”
“A kiss. Right here. Right now. Let’s prove the point. Because I think you won’t do it. I think you won’t let your desire win over the fear. I think the fear controls you, and I think it’s been controlling you for a long time.”
“I’m not afraid. I worked with killers before Lazarus. I’ve sat across the table from some of the most twisted killers out there, and I haven’t flinched.”
He brought his mouth closer to hers.
Her whole body went tense.
“I’m going to count that as a flinch.”
“Maybe…I just don’t want you.” Her voice had gone husky.
His chest burned. Ached. “Maybe you don’t.” Maybe he was a fucking lunatic. He shoved away from the wall. “Maybe—”
She grabbed his arm. Pulled him back to her, and he was so surprised that he stumbled and their bodies pressed together. Cecelia rose onto her tip-toes and her mouth crushed to his.
Desire exploded within him as her lips parted beneath his and his tongue swept into her mouth. She was sweeter than vanilla. He couldn’t get enough of her. His cock shoved against the front of his jeans, fully erect and desperate. He pressed his hips against her even as his fingers sank in the softness of her hair. He kissed her deeper, harder, and heard the soft moan in the back of her throat. She did want him. He hadn’t been wrong about that. She did—
Get your fucking hands off her! The roar filled Flynn’s head. A furious bellow that he knew belonged to Bryce King. When the Lazarus subjects communicated telepathically, you could still hear the speaker.
And he’d just forced the bastard to reach out to him.
Flynn immediately pulled his mouth from Cecelia’s. He spun around, making sure that he covered her as he glanced toward the mouth of the alley. Knew you were there, you asshole. Figured you’d be watching the apartment. Stop hiding and show your fucking self. Flynn projected his taunts as powerfully as he could. Let’s end this.
“Flynn?” Cecelia pressed her hands to his back. “What are you doing? What’s happening?”
“Bryce.” One word. That was all he spoke.
She dragged in a quick breath.
She isn’t for you, Two. Bryce’s taunt slammed into Flynn’s head.
My name is fucking Flynn. Not Two. We’re not test subjects any longer.
“Where is he?” Cecelia whispered.
He couldn’t get a lock on the guy. But Flynn knew he had to be close. Close enough to see them in that alley. Close enough to—
He heard the whistle of wind, the sound that didn’t belong. He could feel the bullet as it rushed toward him. He moved as fast as he could—and that was damn fast—Flynn grabbed Cecelia, and they hurtled through the air. He heard the thud of the bullet sink into the brick wall, and chunks of the brick broke away.
“Sniper,” Flynn snarled as he understood what he’d just heard. Fucking bastard. The guy had been watching them through a scope. “Stay down.”
“What? Flynn!”
But he was already lunging up. He looked at the bullet in the brick wall, and his head turned as he figured out the trajectory, the wind, the—
Light glinted from the rooftop across the street.
“Stay down!” Flynn blasted once more at Cecelia, and then he was rushing across the street and kicking in the door of the brownstone that waited. The place had a giant FOR SALE sign on the window and a lock box on the door, but when Flynn kicked that door, the lock box went flying. He rushed up the stairs, taking them nearly four at a time.
And as he ran up those stairs, a darkness slipped into his mind.
Rage. Hate. A killing fury. It twisted his thoughts. Had his body tensing and his hands clenching into fists. He pounded up those stairs, and he knew, he knew that Bryce was shoving his poisonous emotions into his mind. The rage and the hate—they were coming from Bryce.
But Flynn was going to stop the bastard.
He would end Bryce King.
Chapter Five
She crouched against the dirty alley wall. Cecelia pulled out her phone and she started to call Aaron—
He can’t handle Bryce.
Her fingers froze. If she got Aaron to race to the scene, there was no way he could battle Bryce. And Bryce was exactly the man they were dealing with. Flynn had run off after the guy.
Flynn had also nearly died. She’d seen where the bullet lodged into the brick wall. The target had been Flynn’s head. Only he’d moved fast enough to dodge that bullet. If he hadn’t, then Flynn would have died.
The Lazarus subjects had come back from death before, and they’d come back with all sorts of bonuses and secrets. Lots of secrets. One of those secrets was the fact that the Lazarus subjects could actually rise from the dead again and again. The only surefire way to kill them? A bullet to the brain.
Bryce had obviously wanted his bullet to sink deep into Flynn’s brain. Only it hadn’t.
She didn’t dare move toward the mouth of the alley. Bryce would have her in his sights if she did that, and she didn’t w
ant to make herself a target.
But what if Flynn needed help? Dammit. She wouldn’t call Aaron, but she could call Sawyer Cage. She could bring in another super soldier. Two against one were far better odds in her book.
Her finger swiped over her screen of her phone. She tapped—
“Hello, Cecelia.”
Cecelia’s head immediately whipped up and her body lurched around so that she could follow that voice—a voice that had come from behind her.
He was there. Standing at the end of the alley. The man who slipped into her nightmares. The one who dominated too many of her thoughts.
Bryce King.
Tall, fit, blond. Handsome and horrifying because she knew exactly what waited behind the mask that he wore.
Flynn had talked about monsters. Bryce was a real monster. The worst of the worst.
And he was walking right toward her.
“Stay the hell away!” Cecelia yelled at him.
But he just smiled.
***
Flynn burst onto the roof. “Bryce!”
But Bryce King wasn’t there. The rooftop was empty. Flynn knew he’d seen the glint of a gun up there, but the place was clear now—no sign of a rifle, no sign of Bryce.
Bam! Bam!
The fast retort of gunfire seemed to echo around him.
He rushed to the edge of the roof, gazing down below. He had a perfect view of the alley’s entrance. He could see the spot that he’d been standing in when he kissed Cecelia. When he pushed her up against the wall.
Bam! Another shot. And the thundering gunshots were coming from the alley. Flynn didn’t hesitate. He jumped off that roof and fell, plummeting three stories. When he hit the ground, his knees didn’t buckle. He didn’t stop. He raced straight into that alley. “Cecelia!” Her name was a roar.
She whirled toward him, and he saw the gun gripped in her hand. It was the same gun that she usually kept in her nightstand. “H-he…Bryce was here!” Her eyes were wide, but her grip on the gun was rock steady. “I fired at him, but I missed…he was too fast!”
Shit. Shit!
He rushed to the back of the alley, but it just fed onto another street. Bryce was gone, and he could give chase, trying to follow the guy’s scent, but if he did, then Flynn would have to leave Cecelia alone again. If he did that, Flynn knew he could be running straight into another trap. Bryce could just be attempting to lure Flynn away from Cecelia once more.
Not going to happen.
“He was just—there,” Cecelia whispered, and her eyes were huge. “Standing at the end of the alley. Smiling at me.”
It wasn’t safe in the alley.
Flynn spun on his heel. He ran to her, scooping her up in his arms and hauling ass back to the SUV.
“Flynn! Stop! I can walk!”
But he could move far, far faster than she could. And if he had her in his arms, then he could dodge any bullets that might be fired at them. He could protect her better.
Because he’d sure as shit fucked up in that alley.
He got her safely to the SUV. Then Flynn drove away with a squeal of his tires. His gaze cut to the rear-view mirror, and he sent out a hard message to the SOB who had targeted Cecelia. I will find you, Bryce. I will kill you.
He didn’t expect a response, but…
Bryce’s laughter filled his head. No, Subject Two, I’m afraid you have that wrong. I will find you. I will kill you. And then I’ll be fucking Cecelia. I’ll fuck her, and I’ll put my rope around her neck and watch her die.
“Bastard!” Flynn snarled.
“He’s talking to you, isn’t he?” Cecelia’s voice was hushed. “He’s in your head right now.”
“Duck down, Cecelia. I don’t know where the jerk is.”
“He’s in your head.” But she ducked down in her seat. “Get him out, Flynn. You know he can influence your emotions. Get him out!”
More laughter floated in Flynn’s mind. It’s so much fun to watch them die. But then, you’re a killer, too, so you know what I mean. When you touch someone soft like Cecelia, someone delicate, it’s so easy to break a woman like her.
But Cecelia isn’t for you to break, Two. She’s mine. I found her first. Long before you ever came along.
“You’re wrong,” Flynn grated, speaking and sending the message telepathically at the same time. “Cecelia is mine, and I’ll kill you before you touch her again.”
***
“You let him get away?” Sawyer Cage demanded, as his hands shot to his hips and he glared at Flynn. “You had the bastard—you were close enough to see him, and you let him get away? What the actual fuck, man?”
Flynn’s body was tight with fury. They were in Cecelia’s home. She’d gone upstairs to change clothes—her blouse had been torn and bloody after all of the incidents in the alley. He’d smelled her blood, small cuts on her knees from when he’d grabbed her and thrown them both to the ground to avoid a gunshot.
A gunshot.
“She was my priority.” She would always be Flynn’s priority. “The guy had tricked me into rushing up to the rooftop and leaving Cecelia alone. He knew I’d rush up there and when I did, I left her alone.”
Vulnerable.
He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
“I heard gunfire in the alley. She was firing at him.” And her gun had saved Cecelia. It had bought Flynn the precious time he needed in order to get back to her. “He wants her. He’s been obsessed with her since Lazarus.”
Sawyer lifted his brows. “And he’s the only one, huh?”
Flynn fired a fast glance upstairs. Then he stalked toward Sawyer. Watch it, Flynn telepathically warned the man he considered to be his friend.
Sawyer’s eyes narrowed. I’m just calling it like I see it. We both know you were hot for the shrink back at Lazarus. You might bullshit with someone else, but not with me.
Yes, Flynn had wanted Cecelia back at Lazarus. He wanted her right then. But he wasn’t like Bryce King. He didn’t want to hurt her. Hurting her was the last thing he ever wanted.
Your feelings for her clouded your judgment. Sawyer’s thoughts rolled through Flynn’s mind so easily, as if the guy had just spoken out loud. You had the chance to get Bryce, but you stopped because of her.
The bedroom door creaked open. The scent of vanilla cream drifted to Flynn. He turned his head and watched as Cecelia made her way down the spiral staircase. When she reached the first floor, her gaze darted between him and Sawyer. She gave a little sigh. “Have I ever mentioned how much I hate it when you two communicate telepathically?”
Flynn drank her in. She’d changed into jeans and a white t-shirt. Her feet were bare, and he saw that her toe nails were painted a soft brown.
“What makes you think we’re communicating telepathically?” Sawyer asked, voice mild.
She gave a little laugh. The sound seemed to stroke right over Flynn’s skin. “Easy. One minute, I could hear your voices, and the next, dead silence is coming from downstairs.” She walked closer to them. Her hair slid over her shoulders. “Then when I look down at you guys, I see you two glaring at each other, standing practically toe-to-toe. Trust me, the body language gave it all away.” She paused. “So…want to tell me what you two were saying in your heads? What you felt I couldn’t know?”
No, Flynn damn well didn’t want to tell her. So he chose his words carefully, not revealing everything. “Sawyer was chewing my ass out because I didn’t give chase and stop Bryce.”
Her gaze didn’t leave Flynn’s face. “You were protecting me.”
He’d always protect her.
“Bryce dodged every bullet I fired at him.” She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “He is so fast. You’re all so fast. I wanted to tell Aaron the truth, but after what happened in that alley…” Her hand fell back to her side. “You’re right. The regular authorities aren’t going to be able to stop Bryce. If Aaron had been there…if it had been him at my side instead of you, Flynn, I think Aaron would be dead.” H
er lower lip trembled for a moment before she steadied it. “I think I might be dead, too.”
He wanted to pull her into his arms. Hold her close. Tight.
And he wanted to tear Bryce apart.
“That’s what he wants, isn’t it? For me to die?” Cecelia asked. “He lured you onto the roof of that brownstone so I’d be alone.” Now her gaze swung back to Sawyer. “I really don’t think you should be, ah, ‘chewing his ass out’ over saving my life. Because I’m pretty grateful to Flynn right now.”
Sawyer nodded grimly. “I know.”
“And I can’t help but wonder,” Cecelia continued, her voice soft and mild, “what you would have done, had the situation been reversed. If your Elizabeth had been in that alley, would you have left her and chased after Bryce?”
Sawyer’s lips tightened. “You’re psychoanalyzing me, aren’t you? We aren’t in some therapy session. We aren’t back at Lazarus—”
“I’m not psychoanalyzing you. I’m telling you that nothing is black and white, but then, you already know that.” Her shoulders straightened. “So stop berating Flynn for saving my ass, okay? Because I’m happy to still be breathing.”
She was standing up for him. Flynn rubbed his chest because it had started to ache.
Sawyer’s eyes gleamed. “Yes, ma’am.” A Texas drawl slipped into his voice. “I’m happy you’re breathing, too.”
Her chin notched into the air. “We need to come up with a plan. A way to stop Bryce. Catch him. We know he’s the Midnight Strangler. We know he’s…Look, I think he killed Jennifer McKenzie just because he wanted me to see him for exactly who he has always been. That’s why he put the murder weapon he used under my car. He wanted me to know who he really is. What he really is. Blinders are off.” She licked her lower lip, a quick swipe of her tongue. “For the last few months, he’s waited, he’s planned, and he’s attacked. He has everything all lined up. He thinks he’s going to get me. He thinks—”
