by LENA DIAZ,
Chagrined, Derek had allowed the nurse to put the IV in his arm. They were giving him antibiotics through that IV to counteract any bacteria he may have swallowed when he’d nearly drowned in the swamp. And they were monitoring him because of the concussion he’d suffered. But he’d probably be released in a few days as long as he didn’t show signs of a fever.
Amy was asleep, too, sitting in a chair pulled up beside the bed, her upper body and arms draped across Derek’s chest. Their hands, even in sleep, were laced together. Amber had a feeling this wasn’t a mild infatuation that was going to blow over. The two of them seemed completely enamored with each other. The anger that Amber had thought she’d seen in Amy’s reflection in the library window? She realized now it was probably a mixture of anger and pain because she was worried—and mad—that someone might have hurt Derek.
Amber backed out of the room, allowing the door to quietly close behind her as she turned and balanced the coffee cups.
“Is one of those for me?”
She looked up sharply, expecting to see Dex. But instead, it was his friend, Jake.
“You don’t have to look so disappointed.” He shoved away from the wall.
“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t... I thought...” She held out one of the coffee cups. “If you like cream and sugar, it’s yours. I was bringing it to Amy, but she’s asleep.”
He grimaced but took the cup anyway. “I prefer black, but right now I’ll take anything warm after being submerged in that nasty swamp. Thanks.” He took a deep sip and grimaced again. “Or not.” He tossed the cup in a nearby trash can.
Amber eyed her own cup. “That bad, huh?”
“I wouldn’t try it if I were you.”
She tossed it in the trash. “Thanks for saving me. Again.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t save you. Dex gets all the credit for that. Speaking of which, he’s asking about you.”
She cleared her throat. “He is?”
“Uh-huh. He wanted me to come get you. He’s sitting with Mitchell. I couldn’t get him to leave the guy’s side.”
“Mitchell? Why would Dex sit with him after everything that happened?”
“You can ask him that yourself. Come on. I’ll take you to him.” He offered his arm like an old-fashioned gentleman. Amber smiled and took it and walked with him down the long hall to another wing of the hospital. He stopped at room 222.
“I’ll be in the waiting room, just around the corner when you come out,” he said. “Faye just got to the parking lot. She’s coming up. She’d love to see you.”
“And I’d love to see her.”
He nodded and headed to the waiting room.
Amber could see why Dex liked Jake. He was a nice guy. And he and Faye had cut their Bahamas honeymoon short to check on Dex, after hearing about the terrible storm and that the plane crash had been deliberate. They’d been keeping tabs on him through Freddie until Freddie told them they were heading to the old mansion to celebrate Amber’s charges being dropped.
After that, when the impending storm was on the news, Faye had had a premonition that it was going to get worse than the weathermen thought. She’d convinced Jake they should fly back from the Bahamas before the weather prevented them from doing so, and check on Dex and the others.
But the storm had come in even faster than Faye’s premonition had told her. And it had taken a long time to work their way to Mystic Glades. By that time, they knew anyone in the mansion might be in trouble, so Jake had rounded up some firemen and some canoes and they’d made their way through the flood.
“You coming in or planning on standing in the hallway all day?”
She whirled around at the sound of Dex’s voice. He was standing in front of her, outside Mitchell’s door. Amber raised a shaky hand to her chest. “You and Jake are both good at that.”
“Good at what?”
“Surprising people.” She waved her hand. “Never mind. Jake said you wanted to speak with me.”
He pushed open the door behind him. “Do you mind talking inside?”
She hesitated. “In Mitchell’s room?”
“He’s in a medically induced coma, to keep the brain swelling down. He won’t hear anything we say.”
She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, not at all anxious to go near Mitchell again. “I’ve heard of studies that say that people in comas do hear what is said around them.”
“Amber. Please.”
His quiet, resolved tone had all kinds of alarm bells going off in her head, but she pushed back her reservations and followed him into Mitchell’s room. She stopped just inside, surprised to feel a tug of empathy when she saw the machines and tubes hooked up to the man who’d tried to kill her and Dex a handful of hours earlier.
“He can’t hurt you now.” Dex waved toward one of two plastic-and-metal chairs beside the window.
She crossed the room and sat beside him. “Why are you here? With him? After everything he did?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
He scrubbed the stubble on his face. His exhaustion was broadcast by the tiny lines around the corners of his eyes and the dark circles beneath them.
He took her hands in his. “The doctors performed a CT scan. But it wasn’t where I hit Mitchell with the poker that they’re worried about. What they’re concerned with is the mass they found, something called anaplastic astrocytoma. I’m sure I’m pronouncing it wrong, but basically he has a malignant brain tumor.”
She blinked in surprise. “A brain tumor?”
“They’ll do surgery, radiation, maybe chemo, too. His prognosis doesn’t look good. But they’ll do everything they can to control the pain and alleviate his symptoms.” He tugged his hands out of hers. “He must have been having terrible headaches the past few months. I never even noticed. I was oblivious. How many times did I say good morning without really talking to him, to see how he was really doing?”
“Wait. Dex, is this why you’re sitting here with him? You feel guilty?”
He shrugged. “I am guilty—guilty of not paying enough attention. Guilty of being so self-absorbed that I didn’t notice that an employee, a friend who’s worked for me for years, was acting differently, that he was in pain. I’m guilty of everything he accused me of when we were fighting on that porch.” His bleary gaze captured hers. “I’m sorry, Amber. That’s what I wanted to tell you. I’m so sorry if I ever treated you that way. And I’m sorry that I took advantage of you. I made an unforgiveable mistake. I shouldn’t have—”
“Stop it. Stop it right now. You did not take advantage of me. And I refuse to sit here while you characterize our sleeping together as a mistake. Dex, I wanted to make love with you. I still want to make love with you. Nothing Mitchell said has changed that, or how I feel about you. I want to be with you. Don’t you want to be with me?”
His brow furrowed and he looked away. “Of course I want to be with you. But I can’t. It’s not right.”
“How is it not right?” When he didn’t answer, she followed the direction of his gaze. He was watching the readouts on the machines by Mitchell’s bed. “The tumor affected Mitchell’s judgment, didn’t it? I’m sure the doctors must have said something like that. Mitchell skewed everything in his mind because he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t control what the tumor was doing to his brain, to his thoughts.”
She waited, but when he didn’t say anything, she tried another approach. “Okay, Mitchell has an out, then. There’s an explanation for why he did what he did. It will be hard to forgive him, but I’ll try because I understand it wasn’t entirely his fault. But I can’t forgive you.”
He jerked his head toward her, his eyes wide. “What?”
“You heard me. If you choose to go down this path of self-loathing and give up the one good thing sitting in front of
you, don’t expect me to participate in your pity party. I deserve better. You taught me that.”
“Wait, I taught you that? What do you mean?”
She sighed. “Dex, I gave up two years of my life because of guilt. Oh, I was pretty sure that I hadn’t killed my grandfather with that tonic. I figured there had to be another explanation, and even after I heard about the peanut oil, I wasn’t totally convinced that was the cause of his death. But I chose to run, not just to draw suspicion away from Buddy, to protect him if he’d made a horrible mistake. I ran because I knew that living in that swamp would be incredibly difficult, maybe even impossible, but I didn’t believe that I deserved any better. I thought I deserved to struggle every day because of the horrible mistake that I’d made.”
He frowned. “What mistake? Your grandfather died of cancer. Even if you didn’t know it back then, you said you didn’t think your tonic killed him.”
“No, I didn’t. But it didn’t save him, either. I was...arrogant. I healed people even when Aunt Freddie’s Doc Holliday couldn’t heal them. My herbs and potions had never failed me before, and I believed I could do better for Grandpa than real doctors.” She shook her head. “My arrogance is what killed my grandfather. I should have insisted that he go to the hospital instead of just assuming that I could take care of him. Would it have made a difference? Probably. But not for long. All it would have done is buy him a few more weeks, weeks filled with pain because of the cancer. I know that now. And because of your faith in me, in getting me to help Garreth and making me fight for others, I realized I was guilty of what you’re doing now—of feeling sorry for myself while life passed me by.”
She clasped her hands in her lap. “Dex, I wasted two years of my life over guilt when I should have been making up for my wrongs by helping others. The guilt that ate me up is something I have to move beyond if I’m going to make up for my past mistakes. And that’s what you have to do. You have to let the guilt go, move on.”
She waved at Mitchell, lying in the bed. “You’re not responsible for Mitchell killing Mallory. But if you believe he was right when he talked about you using others, about not paying attention to those around you and being self-absorbed, then do something about it. You can start by admitting the truth—that you care about me.”
He stared at her as if in shock. “You heard what he said, about Ronnie, about how I treated her. She and Mallory were only a couple of the women I’ve treated badly over the years. How could you even want me after knowing that?”
She thumped his chest. “It’s precisely because you’re sitting here acknowledging your past mistakes that I want you. You’re a good man.” She flattened her hand over his heart. “You’re a good man, here. Where it counts. That’s the man I’m falling in love with. Because he cares about his impact on other people, and he wants to make it right.”
He suddenly scooped her onto his lap. He hugged her so tightly she could barely breathe, but she didn’t push him away. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight, pressing her head against his chest, listening to the solid beat of his wonderful, caring, loving heart.
He kissed the top of her head and loosened his hold, pulling back to meet her gaze. “I don’t deserve your faith and trust, or your...love... Amber Callahan. But I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to earn it. That is, if that’s what you want.”
She blinked back the moisture suddenly blurring her vision. “The rest of your life? That’s quite a commitment from a commitment-phobe when you barely know me.”
He framed her face in his hands. “I know you. I know the kindness inside you, the way you put others first. I know that you’re one of the few people who’s ever stood up to me, told me I’m not perfect, that I’m wrong. I’ve surrounded myself by yes-men and yes-women, afraid to tell me the truth. I need you to keep me honest, to tell me when I’m being an ass, to remind me to stop, and listen, and pay attention—to make me a better person. You’re everything I need and want in my life. If you’ll have me.”
Her lips trembled and she drew a shaky breath. “If that’s a proposal, you’d better be sure about it. Because I just might take you up on it.”
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a qualified yes.”
He frowned. “Qualified?”
“I’ll only say yes if you agree to take me away from Mystic Glades. I don’t ever want to go back there again.” She shivered with genuine abhorrence at the thought of returning to the swamp she used to love but that had become the symbol of all her failings.
He cocked his head, looking deep in thought. “I don’t know. It might be hard giving up being a cop. Especially if I can convince Deputy Holder to give me a gold star to wear on my chest.”
She arched a brow. “So you like the swamp, the alligators, the water moccasins?”
A sexy grin curved his mouth, taking her breath away. “I like you, Amber Callahan. And if I have you, with me, forever, I can give all of that up.”
“Even the gold star?” she teased.
His grin faded and his gaze searched hers. “I would give up anything, everything, for you. I love you, Amber. Marry me?”
She smiled through the tears freely coursing down her cheeks now. Had she thought she was falling in love with this man? She’d been wrong. She’d already fallen. She was madly, deeply, in love with him. And she couldn’t imagine her life without this amazing, caring man in it.
“I love you, too, Dex Lassiter. And the answer is yes.”
He kissed her, and for the first time in years, she felt protected, cherished, loved. From the beginning, when she’d spent those summers with her grandfather as an escape from her parents, and later when she’d fled to the Glades, she realized she’d been running to something as much as away from something. She’d been searching for that one thing her whole life—a home. And she’d finally found it, the place where she belonged. She’d found her home at last, in Dex’s arms.
* * * * *
Look for more books in Lena Diaz’s
MARSHLAND JUSTICE
miniseries later this year!
Keep reading for an excerpt from EXPOSED by Carla Cassidy
(Part 1 of TOUGH JUSTICE).
Addicted to shows like Law & Order and The Blacklist?
Can’t get enough of authors like Kendra Elliot & Tess Gerritsen?
You’ll love…
TOUGH JUSTICE
Justice is worth every sacrifice
A brand-new 8-part reading experience!
FBI Agent Lara Grant has finally put her life as an undercover operative behind her and started a new assignment in New York City. But her past and present collide and become ever more twisted as a spate of murders send a message that is cruelly, chillingly personal …
Tough Justice: Exposed (Part 1 of 8) by New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy
Tough Justice: Watched (Part 2 of 8) by Tyler Ann Snell
Tough Justice: Burned (Part 3 of 8) by Carol Ericson
Tough Justice: Trapped (Part 4 of 8) by Gail Barrett
Tough Justice: Twisted (Part 5 of 8) by Gail Barrett
Tough Justice: Ambushed (Part 6 of 8) by Carol Ericson
Tough Justice: Betrayed (Part 7 of 8) by Tyler Ann Snell
Tough Justice: Hunted (Part 8 of 8) by New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy
Collect all 8!
Visit www.ToughJusticeSeries.com for more information.
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Check out this excerpt from suspenseful new drama serial Tough Justice:
A brand-new 8-part reading experience!
TOUGH JUSTICE
Episode One
Exposed
Prologue
The ledge outside of the tenth floor window of the hotel had a beautiful view of Central Park. It was also dangerously narrow and covered with pigeon crap.
A cold late September breeze sliced through FBI Special Agent Lara Grant as she stepped out of the window of room 1021 and onto the ledge.
She leaned with her back against the window frame and eyed the man who sat on the ledge about five feet to her right. She shouldn’t be here. She’d been in the middle of a meet and greet with her new unit when the call had come in. Talking down potential jumpers wasn’t in her new job description, but the man had asked for her specifically by name.
She had no idea who he was, had never seen him before in her life. It was nine-thirty in the morning, and the last place she wanted to be was on a breathtakingly small ledge trying to stop a stranger from committing a very public and messy suicide.
“Bad day?” she asked.
“Bad life,” he replied. He didn’t look at her but, rather, stared straight ahead. “Are you FBI Agent Lara Grant?”
“You asked for me and here I am. What’s your name?” she asked. Despite the coolness of the day, his forehead shone with perspiration. She tried to gauge how best to connect with him. What persona could she pull out of her professional hat to get him down to safety? Tough talk or sweet and honeyed? Too soon for her to tell.
