by Stark, Cindy
God. The thought appalled her.
If she drove back to the warehouse, Burt would let her in. Spurred by raw emotion, she turned her car in that direction.
They trusted her now. She could pull out the Duke and take out Hardy with one shot. If anyone else got in her way, she’d do the same. Who would blame her?
If she committed murder, life would never be the same. But it would never be the same now anyway. Of the two people she loved, one was dead, and no one would be able to help the other as long as Hardy walked the earth.
Part of her knew her thinking had taken a wrong turn, but she didn’t care.
She just wanted it to stop.
Wanted all the madness to end.
Blood throbbed in her head and chilled her veins when she realized she’d come to a stop in front of Hardy’s warehouse. The end to everything could be only a few breaths away.
Could she do it?
Could she really do it?
She opened her purse and pulled her Nighthawk 9mm from the concealed compartment. It weighed so little compared to the damage it could do. One tiny bullet could rip Hardy’s frigid soul from his body. If he had one.
She searched for an emotion, a reason to rethink her decision, and she found none. Her tears had dried. All that remained was a deep, dark, empty void inside her.
With robotic movements, she pulled the handle on the door and stepped out, hiding the gun against her thigh. A chilled breeze rushed down the dark, empty street, continuing past her as though to get out of her way. Light from the streetlamp down the road seemed to shrink away from her as well.
She stepped onto the sidewalk. With her decision made, she now strode with a purpose.
The sound of another car door slamming brought her to a halt, and she swiveled her gaze over her shoulder.
Christian.
He needed to leave. She didn’t want to shoot him, too.
Despite the vileness that had somehow tainted him, like it had everyone in Hardy’s world, she didn’t want to hurt him. He’d loved her so tenderly. The moments she’d spent in his arms had transcended the evil of this world and the terrible things he’d done.
But she couldn’t erase the fact that he’d dumped a woman’s body like it was trash. Knowing the fates, they wouldn’t allow her the luxury of Christian not entering this battle.
She swallowed hard and turned, hurrying toward the bay door.
She pounded once before he grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides with hands as strong as steel. He twisted her until they were face to face. The pounding of his chest beat against her breasts, upping her tension.
“What are you doing?” he whispered harshly in her ear. He kept his lips on her neck, his breath warm and disturbing.
“Let me go.” She struggled against him, trying to bring her gun around in front of her. “I have business inside.”
He jerked her along the edge of the building and around the corner releasing her only slightly. “Better pray they didn’t see us on the surveillance camera or look out the window. If anyone comes out, you’d better do a good job of acting like we’re getting it on in the alley. It’s the only thing that will save our asses.”
“I don’t need anyone to save my ass.” She pulled her weapon free, but he quickly snatched it and tucked it in the waistband of his jeans.
“Dammit, Eliana. I don’t know what you thought you were going to do with that, but brandishing it anywhere in the vicinity will get you nothing but dead.”
Heated anger boiled inside her, and she lashed at him with her fist.
He caught her and pinned her against the rough cinderblock building. “What’s wrong with you?”
His question decimated any control she might have had left. “You’re what’s wrong, you heartless bastard! All of you. You kill like it means nothing! You string people out on drugs, ruining their lives, just for the thrill of power and money. You use people and toss them like trash when they’re no longer valuable.” She pounded her fists on his chest, and he let her.
Finally, he reached up with both hands and captured her. “You’re wrong,” he whispered. “I’m not like them.”
She blinked furiously. “How can you say that? I saw you drive out of here with a dead body only hours before. You weren’t taking her to the morgue.”
He sighed. “It’s complicated, love.”
“Life is complicated,” she tossed back. “But at least you don’t have a bullet hole in your head. Or had she been strangled? I really couldn’t tell with all that plastic wrapped around her.”
The day’s events had finally sent her over the edge, but she couldn’t help it. If she didn’t say something, do something, she’d explode. “If you’re not on Hardy’s side, then give me back my gun. I’m going in there to end him.”
Christian widened his eyes in shock. “Jesus, Eliana. You’re not going anywhere near him. Not in this state. Not ever again.”
“He can’t walk free. I’ll stop him. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Shhh, Eliana. Listen to me. You’re not in this battle alone. Trust me.” He narrowed his eyes as though baffled and then shifted his gaze to where he held her arms. He let go with a jerk, and then grasped her hand just as quickly. “What the hell happened to you? You’re covered in blood.”
She looked down, shocked to see the amount of bright crimson that had been smeared over her arm and had soaked into her blouse. Even now, blood oozed from the slice she’d forgotten she had. “My brother. He cut me.”
“Your brother? When the hell did you see your brother? And why the hell did he cut you?”
Through the dim light, she searched his eyes, looking for salvation. Could he really not be on Hardy’s side? Could he be trusted? “He was here. Tonight. He loaded that body into your car.” A massive tremble rolled through her as the surreal world crashed down.
“Ah, shit, Eliana. I’m so sorry.”
The reminder of everything gone wrong squeezed another sob from her.
He pulled her against him as he glanced around the corner to the street. “We need to get out of here. It’s not safe. Do you think you can drive? Even a couple of blocks?”
She nodded.
“I’m going to walk you to your car. I’m going to kiss you like a lover saying goodbye, and then I want you to drive to my place if you can. If you start feeling dizzy or anything else, pull over, but we’ve got to get the hell away from here without looking suspicious.”
The dizziness had already set in. From shock or loss of blood, she didn’t know. But she’d pull out whatever strength she had left so she could regroup and fight another day.
Christian tucked her wounded arm against him and held her close as he walked her to her car. “Lean in to me, love,” he whispered. “If anyone is watching, I want them to think we’re so caught up in each other that we don’t realize we’re in front of Hardy’s warehouse.”
She tilted her head and looked up at him. Dark eyes filled with love and concern met hers, melting her insides. She wanted to resist, wanted to believe the powerful tugs on her heart weren’t real, but the connection between them was too strong.
“Thank you,” she whispered. For showing up, for saving her from irrational actions fueled by pain and anger. She could have killed Hardy that night…still wanted to, but maybe they could devise a better, smarter way to make him pay.
Christian lowered his head toward hers, his soft lips generating a powerful spark deep within her as they touched, soothing her wounded emotions and igniting others. She turned in his arms, causing them to stumble and then stop as she returned his kiss. She didn’t need to act for the benefit of others. She meant everything she put into their kiss.
He took her chin and pulled away. “Let’s get to my house, okay?”
She nodded, wanting to be in his safe apartment above the bar, needing that haven more than anything.
He helped her into her car after kissing her senseless, as promised. The silence and calmness insi
de her vehicle offered encouragement to hold on a little longer. A whisper in her heart promised better things were to come.
She could only pray and hold onto those intangible but precious thoughts.
Chapter Eighteen
Christian followed closely behind Eliana’s Challenger, not allowing yellow lights or other cars to come between him and the woman he so fiercely wanted to protect.
She parked in the lot behind his bar, and he pulled up next to her. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but right now, he needed to hold her, to know she was safe from Hardy’s clutches. He exited his Mustang fast enough to help her from her car.
Even in the darkness, the strain of the evening showed on her weary features. “You’re not okay.”
She shook her head.
Her vulnerability burrowed deep into his soul. “We’ll make it okay.” He tugged her against him again, seeking the warmth from her body. When he’d watched her emerge from her car at the warehouse with a gun in her hand, his heart had stopped. If she’d made it inside, she would have been the next victim wrapped in cellophane that Hardy would want him to dump.
Christian shoved the horrifying thought from his head, knowing he needed to focus on Eliana right now.
He gently led her up the metal staircase and opened the door to his home, guiding her inside. She seemed so fragile, so vulnerable…so broken, and that killed him most of all.
Her fire and flash had faded to something dull and lifeless, and he couldn’t let that happen.
He led her inside and kicked the door shut. “Bathroom,” he commanded though she was too withdrawn to refuse.
The room wasn’t large, barely big enough for the two of them to fit. He lifted the faucet handle, allowing water to splash into the basin. The water from his sink always needed a few minutes to warm up.
“How do I fix all this?” she asked in soft tones.
He glanced from the jagged, bloody cut on her arm to her wide, distressed eyes. The vision ripped at his heart. “You don’t, love. Not alone anyway.”
“But my brother. I need to save him.”
Christian tested the water. Warm. He glanced back to Eliana, paused long enough to draw a thumb down the soft skin of her cheek. “I promise I’ll do whatever I can to help, okay?”
“Thank you.” Her words were barely audible, her gaze intently fixated on his.
He sighed as he reached out and began to unbutton her once-white blouse. “What did you do for Hardy today? I caught enough to know he’d given you a task, but what was it?” He prayed it was something more civil than dumping a dead prostitute’s body. Sam and his men would be crawling around the place by now thanks to a discreet phone call.
“Felony distribution of brown Mexican tar heroin.” She inhaled a sharp breath when his knuckles grazed her bare stomach.
He met her gaze, and something feral leapt inside him. This was not the time to remember how good she’d tasted.
“Fucker,” he hissed as he peeled the ruined shirt from her shoulders. He wished he could have resisted the urge to visually feast on her body, but he wasn’t that strong. He traced the defined hollows of her collarbone and the enticing swells of her breasts as they peeked from her light pink bra. Her nipples strained against the lace, and he ached to slip the straps from her shoulders.
Focus.
He met her gaze again. “He knows exactly what he’s doing by implicating us in these crimes.”
“I know,” she whispered as she stared into his eyes. “I don’t care. I was willing to do whatever it took if it would give me deeper access into the organization.”
He nodded. “Me, too. Especially if it would get me closer to you.” He gently placed her arm beneath the running water. Streams of watered-down blood spattered into the sink. “I thought you were one of them.” Even now, he felt guilty for thinking it.
“I thought you were, too.” She tensed as he rubbed lathered soap over her wound.
“Sorry.” He slowed the scrubbing motion, not wanting to hurt her further. “I need to make sure I clean it well. Have you had a recent tetanus?”
She averted her eyes from his ministrations and nodded. “How do you know I’m not one of them? What changed your mind?” she asked and winced.
He stopped cleaning and ran her forearm beneath the water. “A friend of mine told me. Sam Holden.”
Her gaze flew to him. “You know Sam?”
“We…” He hesitated, not knowing exactly what to say. “We work together on projects occasionally.”
“Projects?”
He smiled as she immediately picked up on that word. Her intelligence intrigued him as much or more than her looks. “Yes, love. Projects. Things we don’t talk about around most people.”
“But you’re going to tell me, aren’t you?” Already, she had more strength in her voice.
He shut off the water and dried her arm with a fresh towel. Blotches of red rushed to the surface as he surveyed the damage under the bright lights. “Shallow wound for the most part,” he said, changing the subject. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches.”
She glanced down and took a deep breath. “I can’t believe my brother would do this to me.” Tears hovered in her eyes when she refocused on him. “We were always so close.”
Christian slowly shook his head, mimicking her disappointment before he pulled the first aid kit from beneath the sink. “I wish I could tell you why. Could be his mental illness like you’d mentioned. Could be the effects of drugs. I know they can cause people to behave irrationally. Could be a bad combination of the two, you know?” He opened two large bandages and squirted antibiotic ointment on them. Gently, he placed them over her wounds.
“He needs help.” Her mesmerizing eyes pleaded with him.
Somehow, she’d snuck in under his radar, and he knew it wouldn’t matter what she’d asked of him. He’d never be able to refuse her. “We’ll figure out a way to help him. I promise you that.”
A painfully beautiful smile lit her face. “Thank you.” She cradled his cheeks between her palms and leaned against him as she stood on tiptoe. She pulled his head toward her, giving him a soft yet powerful kiss.
She ended it, gazed into his eyes with a wondering look, and then crushed her mouth against his.
Ah, shit. The words vibrated through his mind. He’d wanted to steer away from sexual activity to give her time and space to heal. Then again, connection and comfort might be part of the process, he realized.
What better way to be grounded than engaging in an act that left both parties open and vulnerable? It was what she wanted. Maybe what she needed.
He sure as hell wasn’t going to complain.
He gently tightened his arms around her, not wanting to overwhelm. She sighed in approval and pushed against him until he bumped backward into the door.
“Eliana,” he whispered in warning. He could only hold back for so long. Her hands were on him…everywhere, trailing down his neck, over his biceps, pressing against his pecs. He tensed as she found her way beneath his shirt, her fingertips grazing his abs, forcing his shirt upward.
He released her long enough to tug his shirt over his head and toss it.
“I want this,” she whispered, grazing her nails over his exposed skin, igniting his pulse. “I want you.” She met and held his gaze, hers once again full of fire and passion. “Make me forget today.”
He groaned in pleasure as he dug his hands into her luxurious hair and fisted, tugging her head backward to expose her throat.
She purred in pleasure.
He trailed soft kisses down her neck to her shoulder.
“No,” she said more forcefully. “Not like that. Like this.”
* * *
When he’d spent every last bit of energy he’d had, and Eliana had collapsed in his arms, Christian lifted her and carried her to his bed. “You’re staying with me tonight.”
“Yes,” she whispered as she snuggled against him.
“All night. For break
fast, too, love,” he reiterated, needing to make sure she understood he wasn’t letting her leave early this time.
“Okay.” Her lips caressed his neck as she spoke, and he tightened his hold on her. “I want to be here.”
He closed his eyes, took her words deep into his soul and cherished them as her breaths grew deeper and more even. A soft, floral scent from her hair wafted toward him, and he inhaled deeply. Whatever they had was right.
So right.
“I did something else bad,” Eliana said quietly in the darkness.
He’d thought she’d fallen asleep, but she must have been thinking like he was. “What’s that?” He worried that Hardy had already had too much influence over her.
“You know Lorenzo? The tall, creepy kid who works for Gideon?”
“The cocky slime ball who thinks he’s Hardy’s and Gideon’s prized pupil?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I pled a deal for him to keep him out of jail so he could continue to move massive amounts of drugs onto the streets of Portland.”
He didn’t have to guess why. “So that you could get closer to Hardy.”
She nodded, her head brushing his chin.
“You did what you had to do to find your brother.”
“Finding my brother’s not my only motivation.”
“Okay…” He struggled to follow her thought process. “Are you going to tell me why?”
She remained quiet for a long time, and he wondered again if she’d fallen asleep.
Finally, she released a deep sigh, which hitched on what sounded like a sob. “Do you remember when we walked along the riverside, beneath Burnside Bridge?”
“I do.” He waited for her to expound, wondering if she’d changed the subject.
“Remember when I asked if you’d heard about the man who’d been knifed?”
A chill crept over him. “Yes.” He wanted to tell her he already knew, but he sensed she needed to talk.
