by Cynthia Eden
Finished there? “You aren’t making sense.” And Sam hadn’t answered her question. “Who did you find?”
The sirens were louder. When she looked out her window, she could see the flash of blue lights coming closer.
“God, Savannah, I’m so sorry. I should have been here, but I…I’m so sorry.”
Why was he saying that? “You’re scaring me.” The cops were coming. She needed to dress. Needed to find out why they were at her house. Sam was wrong.
“He’s dead.”
She shook her head.
“Your father is dead, Savannah. Those bastards killed him. Jett and his team killed him.”
***
Cops were everywhere. Men and women in uniforms, talking in low voices. Yellow police tape was outside of the mansion, to secure the scene. She stood there, shaking, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, wearing her old sneakers. Rain had started to fall, and the drops slid over her cheeks.
The cops had wanted to take her to the station. She’d refused. She’d demanded that she be brought here. To the house that had never really felt like home.
“They’re going to bring the body out soon,” the cop on her right said softly. Jennifer something. Adams? She’d introduced herself back at Savannah’s home, but Savannah had been so shocked then that she’d barely heard the other woman. Everything had felt distorted. It still felt that way. “You don’t have to watch this. We can go to the station. After the body has been cleared, you can head to the morgue to—”
The morgue. This was real. All of it. Her head turned, and she stared at Jennifer. “My father is dead?” A last, desperate question. So many lights illuminated the scene, pushing back against the darkness.
“Yes.” Jennifer held an umbrella in her hand, and the rain tapped against the top of it.
“But—”
“He didn’t suffer,” Jennifer added quickly. Her dark eyes showed her sympathy even as she said, “A single gunshot wound to the head. A professional hit.”
No. Savannah shook her head. No.
But when she glanced back at the front of the sprawling house, a gurney was being wheeled out. And on top of that gurney, she could see a long, black bag. A body bag. Her father was in that bag?
“Savannah!”
Sam was shouting her name. He ran toward her and pulled her into his arms. But she barely felt him. She was too numb.
“God, I was so afraid they’d kill you, too.”
They? He couldn’t mean Jett. Not Jett or Maddox or Luna.
He eased his hold so that he could peer down at her. “I saw them on the security feed. They came into the house. Jett and his buddy Maddox. They came into the house, and then the feed ended. They cut the security.” Rain drops slid down his cheeks. “They killed him. We fucking let them into our lives. We trusted them. And all along, they were just planning to take him out.”
No, no, that didn’t make sense. “Jett…saved me.”
“I don’t think so. I think he was working with Patrick all along. At least, that’s what the detectives are saying.” He looked back toward the house. “Because the gun used to kill your father? It belonged to Patrick Zane. Jett and Maddox brought it here. They used it on Phillip.” His breath came faster. “They killed him, and now they’ve vanished.”
She couldn’t feel the raindrops hitting her. “I want to see him.” She stepped toward the black bag. Her dad wasn’t in there. He couldn’t be in there.
But Jennifer moved into her path. “Not right now. I’m sorry. But his body…evidence has to be collected. We can’t allow any contamination.”
Her temples were throbbing. “Jett wasn’t here. He didn’t do this.” Sam was wrong. “He was with me.” In bed…with her.
“He wasn’t there when I called.” Sam swiped away the water from his eyes. “When did he leave? What time?”
“I—” She had no idea.
“He snuck out, you didn’t know, and he killed your father.”
“Why?” It wasn’t making sense. But the fear inside of her was changing. The cold ball was becoming something else, and nausea rolled through her. Jett made love to me. He protected me.
He…he hadn’t killed her father.
Then a man in a suit approached her. A man with dark hair, slicked back from his head by the rain. A guy with an implacable expression, and cold, glittering blue eyes. He flashed some sort of badge her way. Not one of the badges that the Biloxi PD used, but something different. Something she couldn’t quite recognize.
“Ms. Jacobs? I’m Special Agent Bennett McNeely, and I need to speak with you.”
He was speaking with her. Savannah’s teeth started to chatter. The body bag was being loaded into the back of a van.
The agent prompted, “Ms. Jacobs?”
She couldn’t take her eyes off the black bag. Was her father in that bag? Cold? Dead?
“I need to know about the people who were posing as government agents,” McNeely pushed her. “I need to know where they are now. Can you help me?”
“They’re gone.” Jett had disappeared, not leaving so much as a trace behind in her home. Jett…Jett had been lying? No. “I want to see the footage.” She yanked her gaze away from the body bag and focused on the agent. “I want to see that security feed. I want to see everything you’ve got—right up until the feed ends.”
“Ms.—”
“I’m not telling you a thing about Jett or the others until I see with my own eyes what happened here.” She trusted Jett. He’d saved her from the worst nightmare of her life. She wouldn’t just turn on him. “Show me the footage.” Her voice snapped like a whip. “Show me now.”
***
Jett and Maddox stalked into her father’s study. Jett’s face was tight with anger. Maddox didn’t show any expression at all.
Jett charged right for her father. “You sonofabitch,” Jett snarled as his hands fisted on her father’s shirt. “Did you think we wouldn’t come for you?”
Savannah couldn’t seem to pull in a deep breath. Her chest ached as she stared at the monitor. She was in the police station. The special agent was behind her. The female cop, Jennifer, she was close by. And Sam was there, holding her hand. Looking all grim.
The special agent had said he could only show her the footage at a secure location, so now she stood in the overcrowded, too-loud police station, and Savannah felt her world falling apart around her.
Her father shoved at Jett.
Jett let him go. “This ends.” He yanked a gun from the holster hidden beneath his coat. “It ends.”
Oh, God.
The screen went black.
There was nothing else. There was no more.
Just her father, lying in a body bag.
Just Jett—gone.
“We investigated the Cayman accounts that were found on Patrick Zane’s computer,” the special agent announced. “The accounts were cleared out, and no trace of the money can be found.” A pause. “We believe that the man posing as Jett Bianchi—he and his associates took the money before they vanished. It was a very carefully executed plan.”
She pulled her hand from Sam. “Why?”
McNeely shrugged. “They were working with Patrick. Maybe he was working for them, we haven’t figured that part out yet. But your father didn’t play by their rules. And it cost him his life.”
No, no. She rubbed her temples. “Jett was protecting me. He was—”
McNeely tossed a manila folder onto the table in front of her. “This is the paperwork for the real Jett Bianchi. Even his death certificate.”
With shaking fingers, she reached for the file. Read everything in some kind of blur. Saw all of the official looking signatures. The death certificate. The coroner’s notes…
“He was given the Medal of Honor for his sacrifice.” McNeely’s voice held no emotion. “From all accounts, the real Bianchi was one hell of a guy.”
Navy SEAL Jett Bianchi killed in action. The words blurred more before her, and Savannah had to blink
a few times so that she could read the notes. Saved the lives of six men…
“I want to see his picture.” There was no picture of Jett Bianchi in the file. “Show me his picture.”
Sighing, the agent opened his brief case. Then he slid a black and white photo toward her. A photo of a man lying on what appeared to be a coroner’s table.
A dead man.
Bullet holes were in his chest.
And his face… “That’s Jett.” Not someone who looked like Jett. That. Was. Jett. Same nose. Same chin. Same cheekbones. Even the same faint scar along his upper right cheek. “No.” This wasn’t possible. Nothing made sense. Her entire world had gone crazy.
“We think the man we are after may have gotten some cosmetic surgery to make himself better resemble the real Jett Bianchi.”
What? That was insane. “Why—”
“We’re not talking about some amateurs here, Ms. Jacobs. We’re talking about a team that orchestrated a kidnapping and murder ring in Biloxi that brought in millions of dollars. My intel says this group may have been operating similar rings in different parts of the world.” He waited for her gaze to rise to his face, then added, “My job is to stop them. By any means necessary.”
The panting sound of her breath filled the small room. Jennifer stepped closer to Savannah, frowning. “Are you all right?”
No, she wasn’t all right. She’d had sex with Jett. She’d trusted him.
Jett. That isn’t even his real name.
She’d trusted him. He’d betrayed her. Just like Patrick.
Fool me once…shame on you.
Fool me twice…
Her whole body shuddered.
Jett hadn’t just fooled her. If the special agent was right, Jett had killed her father.
The first tear slid down her cheek and hit the table.
Part Two
“Things aren’t always as they appear…sometimes, they are one hell of a lot worse.”
—Jett Bianchi
Chapter Ten
Three months later…
He was going to have to beg.
He’d have to grovel.
He’d have to do anything she wanted, if it convinced Savannah to let him back in her life.
Jett slowly walked down the beach. The tourist season had come and gone in Biloxi. Three months had passed since he’d last seen Savannah. Three of the longest months of his life. He’d thought about her every single day. Fantasized about her.
He’d gone from one hell-hole assignment to another. Then he’d had his whole fucking world ripped apart when he’d learned that he’d been betrayed by those in power at Lazarus.
Three months. So damn much could change in that time.
But one thing hadn’t changed. He still wanted Savannah. And this time, he wouldn’t be walking away.
His shoes sank into the white, sandy beach. The waves roared as they hit the shore, sending foam sliding onto the beach. The sun was getting ready to set. It was a ball of red that would soon dip beneath those rushing waves.
A few more steps…and he saw her.
Her arms were wrapped around her stomach as she stood at the edge of the beach. The waves were rushing up to wet her toes. Her gaze was directed straight ahead. Straight on the churning Gulf.
For a moment, Jett absolutely couldn’t move. Most things in this world didn’t scare him, but having to go to Savannah, having to tell her the truth about him and about what he’d done…hell, yes, he was terrified.
He didn’t want her to hate him.
Hate was the last thing he wanted from Savannah Jacobs.
Slowly, he advanced on her. One foot. Another.
And then her head turned, as if she’d heard him over the roar of the waves. Her eyes locked on him. The wind caught her hair, blowing it away from her face. And her expression—he saw her shock.
She hadn’t expected him to come back. Because he’d been a fucking asshole who left her in the middle of the night.
An asshole who left right before her world went spiraling.
He swallowed. Clenched his hands into fists because his fingers were shaking. Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up. That had been his mantra the whole time he’d traveled desperately across the US in order to get back to her. Don’t fuck this up.
He took a step toward her.
Don’t—
The shock vanished from her expression. And something else—fear—took its place. She stared at him with absolute terror plain to see on her face. Then she turned and ran.
What in the hell? “Savannah!”
She ran faster. The sand kicked up behind her as she took off running down the beach, going away from her cottage. Seeming to run blindly. Because she was that afraid.
That terrified—of him.
No one else was on the beach. Just the two of them. So he let some of his powers out. He used his enhanced speed to overtake her. To come up in front of her, to catch her arms and stop her—
She screamed. High-pitched. Desperate.
He let her go. “Baby, you don’t need to be afraid of me.”
But she lurched back. Put at least five feet between them, and spun to run again.
Once more, he used his enhanced speed to catch her. To stop her. But this time, he didn’t put his hands on her. He just used his body to block her from fleeing.
“How are you doing this?” Savannah yelled. “How are you moving so fast?”
How? Lazarus. But they’d get to all of that, soon enough.
She wasn’t running. Not right then. Her breath heaved in and out of her chest. The billowing shirt she wore blew in the breeze, and her jeans hugged her legs. No shoes. Her cute, red toenails were dotted with sand.
His gaze traveled from her toes all the way back up to her gorgeous face. And the fear was still there. She was staring at him in absolute, horrified fear.
Why? Oh, right. I just did an insane super speed maneuver on her. Of course, that would make anyone freak out. He should reassure her. Say something soothing. Jett opened his mouth. “I’ve missed you.” The words burst out. All desperate sounding. Only fair, he was desperate.
She shook her head. And her gaze jerked to the left, to the right, as if she was looking for someone else.
But no one was there.
“I know you’re angry,” Jett began carefully. He’d rehearsed a speech in his mind during the long trip down to Biloxi. Rehearsed it a thousand times. But suddenly, he couldn’t remember a single word of his speech.
Shit. Shit.
The last three months had passed in a blur. He’d left her, been sent immediately on another mission—this one out of the country. Then another, and another…The missions had merged together until everything had exploded. Literally, Project Lazarus had gone down in flames. He’d been trapped in a cell, wanting only to escape and get back to Savannah. When the fire had finally died away—
All of Lazarus’s dirty little secrets had come spilling out.
He needed to tell her about that time. About Lazarus. But, shit, he also needed to touch her. To hold her.
He advanced toward her, reaching out his hand.
She knocked it away. “Get back! Don’t touch me!” That loathing, that horror—it was real.
And Jett realized she might already know about Lazarus. She might know all about the secrets he’d tried to keep before. He swallowed. “Savannah…”
“You belong in a cell. You should be locked up!”
Hell. She did know about Lazarus. She thought he was little more than a rabid animal. “I won’t hurt you.” He would never hurt you. He would—
“You’ve hurt me plenty.” Tears glittered in her eyes. “But you will never do it again.” Once more, her gaze jerked along the beach, as if she was looking for someone.
His shoulders stiffened. “Savannah…”
“How could you do it?” She circled around him.
He moved, keeping her within touching distance. But he didn’t touch. She’d told him not to touch.
“I had to leave.” Did she think he’d wanted to walk away from her? She was the only thing in this world he did want. And he had to talk, had to explain—
“You killed him.”
He’d killed a lot of people. That was what he was, after all. A killing machine. The perfect weapon. No, not anymore. Lazarus was done. Falling apart. Ashes. And he was starting over. Trying to start over, anyway. But there were things he had to—
“I saw the security footage.”
He flinched.
She saw the move and sucked in a sharp breath. Her hand rose to her mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Shit, shit, shit. “I should have called you.”
Her eyes turned to the size of saucers. Behind her hand, she gasped out, “Called? After what you did?”
“I was ordered back in. The area was secure. According to the handler, the mission was done. You were safe.”
She dropped her hand. She’d gone too pale, and he didn’t like that. Savannah swallowed twice, and then voice low and ice cold, she snarled, “Safe? Is that what you’d call it?”
Tension settled between his shoulders. The fears he’d had were right. Danger was around her. She must have sensed it, too. Jett lifted his chin. “I’m here now. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
And then he heard the sirens. Blasting in the distance.
Her breath eased out. Her shoulders sagged.
His head turned. Those sirens couldn’t be coming toward them…could they?
Why the hell would they be coming?
She lifted her right hand, and he saw that she was clutching her phone. “I texted Agent McNeely. We had a signal. If I ever saw you again, all I had to do was send him a text with the letter X. He’d track my phone, find me, and get you.”
Jett blinked. Then he held up his hand. “First, who the hell is Agent McNeely?”
“You sonofabitch.” Her lower lip trembled. “After what you did to me, you think you can come back like this? Did you really think you wouldn’t pay for your crime?”
Those sirens were getting louder.
“You killed him,” Savannah whispered. “And I hope they throw you in a cell and never let you out.”
Okay. Multiple things were becoming absolutely, horribly clear. One, she wasn’t happy to see him. Obviously. But he’d expected some anger. Some rage. He hadn’t expected the hate and fear. And next…well, she thought he’d killed someone in particular, someone who seemed to matter to her.
