Don't Trust A Killer

by Cynthia Eden

  “By going after an FBI agent? That doesn’t—”

  “By going after the one woman I’m insane to possess.” This was Remy’s fault. One of the reasons why he’d sparred the guy and hadn’t held back. Why he’d beat the shit out of him.

  And why he would destroy Remy.

  Dominoes all fall down.

  “Talk to your FBI team. Make sure your precious evidence is collected. It won’t matter. I’ll find the one who did this. I’ll punish the driver.”

  But Bree had lifted her stubborn little chin. “You can’t take the law into your own hands.”

  When would she get it? In that town, he was the law.

  “I’ll watch you while you check in with the others.” Because he wasn’t letting her out of his sight. “When you’re done, we go in the house together.”

  “Oh, so first you can’t be bothered to talk to me and now—”

  “Now I have someone who thinks killing an FBI agent who got close to me will either piss me off, hurt me…or…” He tucked a lock of her hair behind Bree’s ear. “Or gain my favor. Until I figure out what the hell is happening, I have to keep watch on you.”

  She stepped back. “I don’t need your protection.”

  She did. Far more than she possibly realized.

  “I need your cooperation, Kace. So, I’ll check in with my team. I’ll clear this scene, and yes, we’ll talk. Because I’ve sure got plenty that I want to say to you.”

  Without another word, Bree walked away. He watched her go…because it was a fucking fine sight.

  ***

  In order to destroy a man, you had to take what mattered most to him.

  He watched the flash of blue lights as they illuminated Kace Quick’s mansion.

  Money. Power. Possessions. The bastard who’d been born with nothing had it all now. He’d stolen and lied and cheated his way to the top. Kace thought he was king of the world.

  Even kings could fall.

  In order to destroy a man…

  You took away what mattered.

  If it was the house, you burned the house to the ground.

  If it was the money, you stole every single dime.

  If it was the man’s power, then you wrecked it. You took the king, and you made him into a criminal. Locked him away.

  And if it wasn’t any of that…if you planned and you plotted and you realized you’d picked the wrong target, then you went after the man’s heart.

  Bree Harlow hurried toward a uniformed cop.

  You went after his heart, and you cut that bitch out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Want to explain about that crap between you and Dominic?” Bree tried to keep her voice at a reasonable level. A very hard act considering that she wanted to scream at the man standing so casually before her.

  They were in Kace’s study. He had a glass of whiskey in one hand. And he was giving off a major I-don’t-give-a-fuck vibe.

  Considering that she’d nearly been run down, Bree gave a fuck. Lots of them. Tons.

  “It’s simple enough. Don’t trust your team. They’ll screw you over in a heartbeat.” He took a sip of the whiskey. “Good old Dom has been selling FBI secrets for the last year as he tries to pay off his debts. The guy is a talker.”

  “No. You’re lying. That’s not true.”

  “Oh, sure, I’m the liar.” Another sip—no, correction, he just gulped down all the whiskey and slammed the glass against the top of his desk. The I-don’t-give-a-fuck vibe had vanished in a blink. “And you’re a saint, aren’t you? No lies from you. Not from sweet, innocent Bree.”

  “Fuck you.” Her hands went to her hips.

  But Kace just laughed. “I’m telling you the truth about Dominic. Why do you think the guy got so sweaty every time he was near me? He was afraid I’d rat him out. Finally decided to do just that because he pissed me off.”

  “So, what—he’s been on your payroll?”

  Kace shrugged.

  She lunged across the room toward him. “You said you haven’t lied to me. I call BS. You omitted the truth. That’s the same thing as lying.”

  “I don’t think it is.”

  He didn’t… She growled. “Sheldon Taggert.”

  Kace blinked at her.

  “Did you kill him?”

  He smiled at her. “Are you wired, Bree?”

  She grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and yanked it over her head. It hit the floor a moment later. Then she kicked off her shoes. Shoved down her jeans. Stood before him clad in her panties and her bra. “No. Wire.” Her breath heaved in and out. “Did you kill him?”

  His gaze heated as it raked over her. “Taggert was no choir boy. You want to hear the whole story? Fine. I knew Brittney was screwing around. The thing is…I didn’t care. We weren’t what you’d call serious, and I had other priorities.”

  “But—the trial, it was—you were supposed to be in love with her. I read the transcripts, you said—”

  “I lied to them, Bree. I’m not lying to you.”

  She felt goosebumps rise on her arms.

  “Taggert was always sniffing around her. Always trying to come close. Fucking stalking her. Terrifying her because he wanted her all the time. So, I told him to back the hell off. Then I beat the hell out of him for her. That’s why Taggert was so quick to testify against me at the trial. He wanted his payback. So he said that I was the jealous one. That I’d attacked him because I found out that Brittney was sleeping with him. And if I’d done that to him, gotten so physical and rough, well, imagine what I must have done to her.”

  “I don’t have to imagine. I read the coroner’s report.”

  He towered over her. She could feel the heat from his body coming toward her. “Are you afraid of me?”

  “Are you a murderer?”

  “Yes.”

  It took a moment for that one word to sink in.

  A moment too long.

  “Going to put your clothes back on? Going to rush away and tell your FBI friends that you just got a confession?” A bitter laugh escaped him as he turned away from her. “Good luck with that. I just said yes, but you have no idea who I killed.” He headed for the bar. Poured another whiskey.

  “You killed Sheldon Taggert.”

  “Stop beating that dead horse.” He stared into the glass of amber liquid. “He terrorized her. Brittney was shaking when she came to me and said the guy wouldn’t leave her alone. I found bruises on her, and when I asked about them, Brittney told me they were from Taggert.”

  “Why didn’t you tell the judge? The cops? The—”

  “Because he was a rich, privileged kid, and I was a thug who already had a juvie record. But it was okay. I knew how to play the game.” He swallowed the whiskey. “I just had to find a witness to match him. Someone who was just as rich and privileged. Someone who would provide me with an unbreakable alibi. And I did. I found the perfect person.”

  “Susannah Mills.”

  “Saw her name in the court files, did you? Yes, sweet Susannah was my alibi.”

  “How did you get her to go along with the story?”

  “Simple enough.” This time, he set the glass down without a sound. “She told the truth. I had fucked her that night. Brittney and I were done, and I wanted some fun. Some women have always liked the thrill that comes from screwing someone dangerous.” Now he glanced at her. “Don’t you love that same thrill?”

  “No.”

  “Liar.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then why’d you fuck me?”

  “Because I wanted you in spite of the danger. And the stories. In spite of everything. Even though I knew I was crossing a line that would cost me.”

  He gave her his taunting half-smile. “Cost you at the Bureau?”

  “Cost me part of my soul. Because that’s the kind of man you are, Kace Quick.”

  His gaze swept over her, lingering on her breasts as they thrust against the cups of her bra. “I am enjoying the show.”

&nbs
p; She grabbed for her shirt. “Fuck you—”

  He was across the room in an instant. He snatched the shirt from her hand. “You did that. It should have been one and done, but it wasn’t. Now we’re both screwed.” Then he shoved the shirt over her head. “Keep this thing on.”

  He was dressing her now? “Are you insane?”

  A bitter laugh. “I think I absolutely am, at least where you’re concerned.” He stared at her. “Taggert drank his ass off. I watched him. A fucking rich frat boy who came looking for a good time on Bourbon Street. He was twenty-two, you know that? Twenty-two and didn’t give a shit about anything. Thought he could come on my turf and push me around. He found me on the anniversary of her death, and told me, ‘The bitch got what she deserved.’” His smile was cold. “I guess Taggert got what he deserved, too.”

  “Kace…”

  “Not that I was in a bar back then. I mean, how could I have been? I wasn’t twenty-one. Not that I could have watched him drive away. Not that I could have followed him on my motorcycle. Not that I could have watched the sonofabitch nearly take out a guy and his girlfriend who had the nerve to just be walking on the street when that drunk bastard was weaving all over the road.”

  Her heart thudded in her chest as her bare toes curled against the floor. Not that I…He was phrasing his statements so carefully.

  “Not that I did any of that, my beautiful Bree.”

  Her arms wrapped around her stomach. She didn’t know what to say.

  “And not that I am freaking the hell out with every breath because we are screwed, and I’m trying to figure out a way to protect you.” His hands fisted at his sides. “You should have just left New Orleans. If you’d left, then they would have thought Remy was wrong. That you didn’t matter.”

  Her gaze had dropped to his fists. And for the first time, she noticed the bruising on his knuckles. A little gasp left her lips as she hurried to him and reached for his right hand. “What happened to you?”

  “I beat the shit out of Remy.”

  Her fingers feathered over his bruises. “Why?”

  “Because he put the target on you.”

  Her gaze rose to lock with his.

  “He shouldn’t have talked about what he saw. I played the game. I let him stay close. Then he talked. Told the cops. Told the Feds…”

  “He didn’t turn on you.” She didn’t understand, but she was trying hard. “He didn’t tell anyone about your business—”

  Kace laughed. “Screw the business. I’m talking about you. He told them all how I reacted when I thought it was you hanging in those silks.”

  She was still holding his hand. And remembering Remy’s words. I tackled him because he wouldn’t stop trying to get her down. When we hit the floor, he looked up and he could see her face from that angle. He stopped fighting then.

  “I went crazy when I thought that was you hanging up there. A reaction that says you mean far more to me than just a quick screw.” Kace’s words were ragged. “Remy was the only one who saw how I reacted. He should have kept his damn mouth closed. He didn’t. Now everyone knows that you matter. I was sending you away. Turning away from you so that you’d be safe, but Remy told the whole freaking world, and now…” His breath heaved out. “To hurt me, my enemies want you. To impress me, my friends want you. They want to hurt the FBI agent they think betrayed me.”

  She was caressing his hand. He was staring at her as if—as if I’m the only thing that matters. Why would he look at her that way?

  Why was she still touching him?

  Why? Why?

  “Remy and I spar all the time,” Kace admitted. “He’s strong and he’s quick, so I like to fight him.”

  She thought of how fast Kace had moved when Grayson had lunged at him.

  “I usually hold back, though. This time, I wanted to tear him apart.” A shrug. “And I’m not done with him yet. I will make him pay.” His bright blue gaze was electric with fury. “He’s put you at risk. Not just from the sick sonofabitch targeting women, the fucking Strangler, but now, you’re in the sights of anyone who wants to—”

  “Why do I matter to you?” Her words cut through his.

  Kace frowned.

  “Why do you care what happens to me? If you turn away, if you leave me on my own, won’t that send a message to your enemies? And to your friends? Won’t that show them that Remy was wrong?”

  His jaw hardened even more. “You’ll get hurt.”

  “I’m an FBI Agent. Being hurt is always a risk. I don’t need a big, bad guy coming in to protect me.”

  Now his hand lifted to caress her cheek. “Maybe I want to protect you.”

  “Kace—”

  His fingers moved, sliding under her hair and tipping back her head. “Maybe I lost everyone that mattered in my life, and then you appeared. I knew what you were from the word go, but I thought I could play you. I could do what I wanted, take what I wanted, then send you away.” Each word was rougher than the last. “But I can’t. I can’t turn you loose. I can’t let you go. You got to me, slipped right past my guard, and now we’re both lost.”

  His lips lowered toward hers. She could stop him. Shove against his chest. Pull away. But she didn’t do any of those things. Instead, she reached up, moving onto tip-toes, and her hands curled around his neck. Their mouths met in a hungry crush of need and desire.

  He said she’d gotten to him.

  He’d done the same thing to her. From the first…from the word go…Bree had known what he was. But she wanted him. She’d thought she could walk away, too. Only he haunted her.

  He’d gotten beneath her skin. In her very blood.

  The kiss was frantic and rough. Her heart thundered in her chest, and the lust that boiled just beneath the surface reached a fever pitch.

  Want him. Didn’t matter what would happen in an hour or even what would happen in the next day. For that moment, Bree just wanted him.

  His hands slid over her body, moving to caress her breasts, making her breath come faster, harder. He yanked off her shirt. The shirt he’d put back on her. Kace threw it across the room, leaving her clad just in her underwear. The underwear didn’t last long. He shoved her panties off, then he lifted her up, spun her around, and put Bree on his desk.

  Her legs were spread, his hips between them. His hands had slapped down on the wooden surface of the desk, on either side of her. His eyes were so hard and deep. His jaw clenched. The stark need on his face took her breath away.

  He had on too many clothes.

  “I can’t fuck you and walk away.” His words were guttural. One hand lifted. Slid between her legs. Caressed her with sensual skill and savage possession.

  “I’m…ah…not walking away.” Her hands were on his shoulders. Her nails bit into his skin.

  He unzipped his jeans. Grabbed a condom from his wallet and shoved it onto the long, stretching length of his cock. He yanked her closer to the edge of the desk. His cock pushed at the entrance to her body.

  “I’d kill for you,” he whispered. He kissed her. “I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

  He drove into her. Her sex clamped greedily around him even as her legs rose and locked tightly around his hips.

  There was no more talking. There was only frantic thrusting. Panting. Moans. His fingers were on her clit, stroking her over and over again as he pounded into her. She was wet and hot, and she surged toward him as they fought for the wild rush of pleasure. He kissed her with a ferocious hunger. Bree strained against him, absolutely wild. She’d never been this way with a lover before. She’d never wanted someone so much that nothing else mattered.

  The climax hit her, whipping through her whole body and tearing a scream from her lips. He thrust harder, rougher, his hands moving to clamp around her and arch her against him even more. Kace growled her name when he came. He held her in a grip that was tight and hard.

  Their heartbeats slowed. The wild craving eased. She could breathe. She could think. And as for Kace…
<
br />   His head lifted. For a moment, she could have sworn that she saw a flash of fear in his eyes. But he blinked, and it was just Kace. Kace with his power and his pride and his secrets. “I tried to send you away.”

  Bree’s tongue swiped over her dry lips. “I’m not a thing to be sent somewhere. I’m here in New Orleans, I’m working a case, and I won’t leave until the case is over.”

  He slowly pulled from her body. “Even if you become the case?” He grabbed a tissue from his desk, yanked off the condom, and tossed it in the trash. He was still aroused.

  So was she. Bree tried to keep her breathing even. “I am the case now. We both know it. And I’m going to stay with you. I want the Strangler to see me.”

  “You want him to come after you.” Kace zipped up and turned his back to her.

  She remained, naked, on the desk. She wasn’t going to frantically try and cover herself as if she was embarrassed by what had happened. She wasn’t embarrassed. She didn’t understand them. Their relationship, if they had one. If that’s what it was. But she wanted him. Wanted the sex. And she wasn’t going to pretend otherwise.

  “If you stay with me, Bree, everyone will know that you belong to me.”

  “It’s…not about belonging.”

  His shoulders stiffened. “Don’t you want to be mine?”

  “I belong to myself, Kace. Always have. Always will.”

  He turned his head to stare at her. “I think I’m yours. That’s part of the problem. I think you snuck inside, and I think you’re close to owning the last bit of a soul that I have.”

  “Kace…”

  “Good and bad. It’s all together. You’ll have to accept that, or you’ll have to leave me. Soon enough, you’ll make the decision.” Kace’s hand rubbed over his jaw, scraping against the stubble there. “You’re going to use yourself as bait for the Strangler, aren’t you?”

  “I’ll be monitored by my team.”

  A bitter laugh. “I got your team leader fired, remember? Or at least, he will be fired, before I’m done with him.”