by CJ Lyons
“Guess I’m an easy target.” She didn’t try to dilute the bitterness that colored her words.
“Thank your father for that. Still, you didn’t really want to kill Crane, did you? On the video, you seemed almost sad after. Didn’t seem to enjoy it at all. Am I right?”
“You already asked that,” she snapped. He was right, but also very wrong. The flash of rage that had driven her in that moment—she’d been out of control. Only for a moment, but it was long enough to end Crane. As well as all hope of a life with Micah.
“And you didn’t answer. I need an answer. Is killing something you need to do? No judging. Most of us, we got our addictions. But a job like this—if that’s you, if you need it, want it, enjoy the high, well, it’s too much temptation. And too dangerous for the rest of us. So, answer me, Morgan Ames. Do you enjoy killing?”
She couldn’t meet his gaze. “Yes. I did—when I was with my father, when I was younger, and he was my world. I used to…enjoy it. A lot.” The flush that stung her cheeks surprised her; she couldn’t remember ever feeling ashamed before. “But not anymore. Especially not tonight.”
He stared at her for a long time. But she forced herself to hold his gaze. Finally he gave her a slow nod. “All right, then.”
“Is that all I’d be doing for you? Killing?” She shoved the card back at him. “I’m nobody’s hired gun. I like thinking for myself. And working for myself.”
His lips twisted in a smile that seemed more directed at himself than her. “I said the same thing. But then I realized… being alone out there, doing what we do, it’s too easy to make mistakes. To let innocent people get hurt.”
Micah. Lying in a hospital bed, maybe blinded for life—because of her. More than him, there was Adam and Andre and Jenna, all paying the price for her and her father’s crimes. She might have killed Clinton Caine, but she hadn’t destroyed his legacy of pain and blood. Her blood. Forever tainted.
He shifted his weight. “Think of us as a pack of lone wolves. There for each other, but also very independent.”
She frowned, staring at his card. It wasn’t often that she was uncertain about anything. But this… this could change everything. And it was maybe a way to protect the people she cared about. From her.
“Just think about it,” Ryan urged. “You wouldn’t even need to give up your day job. It makes for good cover, in fact. When we need you, we can hire Galloway and Stone—and get your special services as a bonus.” He turned and stepped back into the shadows. “Think about it, Morgan. You’re not alone. We can help. Give you a future. A home.”
And then he was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Morgan waited in the darkest corner of Micah’s hospital room. She’d gotten what she came for; she knew he’d be all right. Well, not all right. But he’d live.
The monitor beeped out his heartbeat, so steady, so strong. She wanted to cradle that rhythm like a lost melody and carry it away with her, keep it as a lullaby. It was torture, standing here so close yet not touching him, knowing how very far away he was—and that he would never return to her. Not after what she’d done.
“I know you’re there.” His voice sliced through the darkness like a beacon. He raised a hand above the bed rail, beckoning her closer. The monitor stained it blood red, making her cringe.
She stayed where she was, making no sound.
“This isn’t your fault,” his hoarse whisper continued, as he gestured to the bandages over his eyes. “It’s mine. For not trusting you to keep your promise, for thinking you didn’t care if Adam got hurt. I’m sorry. I was wrong.”
Morgan said nothing. What could she say?
“What you did—” Micah lowered his hand to grip the bedrail. “I understand. Why you broke your promise.”
Morgan stared, fascinated as always by his long, lean fingers, by the tendons and muscles of those strong yet gentle hands that could create such soul-stirring art with a mere stroke of a pencil or paintbrush. Her feet moved unbidden, unable to resist the temptation of feeling those hands against her skin one last time. But then she came to her senses and stopped, halfway to his bed.
Those hands, they no longer belonged to her; she’d lost them forever. Just as she’d lost Micah. No matter what he said, there’d always be a flash of fear racing across his face whenever she came into his presence. He’d deny it, he’d bury it so deep it would fester and rot away at his soul, his brilliant, gorgeous, compassionate soul. He had the soul of an artist, of a hero, of a good man who’d sacrifice anything to save those he loved.
He’d sacrifice that soul to save her. In the end, it would kill him. She would kill him.
She was not about to let that happen. She shifted her weight, ready to leave—it had been a mistake to come in the first place. Weak; he made her weak.
“Morgan.” He sighed, as if following her thoughts. “Please. Come here. Hold my hand. Let’s talk. I’m not angry, I promise. I just—we need—”
He wasn’t angry, that was true. Worse was what she did hear in his voice: Disappointment. Sorrow. And fear.
He relaxed when she moved closer to the bed, her footsteps silent against the hospital linoleum. She stopped just beyond his reach, beside the IV pump that controlled his pain medicine. She reached for the button.
“Morgan. Say something,” he persisted. “Talk to me. What happened with Crane? It was self-defense, he would’ve killed…” His words grew blurry and stumbled into silence as the extra dose of morphine reached him. His entire body relaxed, his hand sliding from the bedrail to fall at his side, limp.
He was the last person she ever wanted to bring pain to. She hoped he knew that; she wished she could make him forget her all together and go back to the life he was destined to have before she’d crashed and burned it. But he couldn’t, could he? She’d ruined that as well—stolen his future without a thought.
A tug of war raged inside her body, but what was left of her sentimental, weak heart won. She leaned over, his breathing slow and steady as he slept, and kissed him gently on the lips.
By the time she’d straightened, all sentiment was banished from her heart, her posture iron rigid and her path certain. She glided out of the dark room, a ghost invisible to all, leaving the human realm behind.
Jenna was right. Morgan wasn’t a girl. She wasn’t a Sheep or a ravenous Wolf. She wasn’t a warrior guided by principle and honor, not like Andre or Jenna or Micah. Even Crane was wrong—she wasn’t a mindless monster like her father, driven by bloodlust, reveling in pain. No. When she’d killed Crane there had been no ecstasy, no lust, no joy.
She was a weapon. A killing blade forged in blood and pain.
She strode through the busy ER oblivious to the cries and crisis and chaos, past the ambulances, and out into the night where the light of the moon found her. Still, she remained invisible to any who dared to cross her path. No one looked at her; some primal instinct had them ducking their faces, scurrying in other directions—even the cops standing guard outside the hospital entrance.
As if they knew who she really was—as if these Norms and Sheep had always known. She stopped halfway across the parking lot and raised her face to the moon. How had it taken her so long to see? She’d been so stupid, so foolish, denying the truth. Fooling herself that if she wore a Sheep’s mask long enough, she could mask who she really was. Thinking she could ever deserve love like a real girl. And now, because of her blind wishful dreaming, Micah had paid the price.
No more. She stood alone, drenched in moonlight, and knew this would forever be her fate. Always alone. Always other. Always invisible.
She was a weapon. And a weapon felt no pain, no passion. No joy. A weapon did what needed to be done; fought the battles that could not be won in a court of justice, shed the blood that needed to be shed, and moved on without the innocent Sheep—content in their warm dreams, satisfied with their happy grazing—ever noticing the nightmare that passed like a shadow over the moon.
A siren blasted t
hrough the night, reminding her that there was work to be done. A lot of work. Work very few had the stomach or the will to perform.
Work that she was perfectly suited for.
Morgan slid out her burner phone and called the number from Ryan’s mysterious business card. “I’m in.”
Morgan will be back in a new adventure next year! Until then, check out more of CJ’s Thrillers with Heart!
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Lucy Guardino FBI Thrillers
Everything a great thriller should be—action packed, authentic, and intense.” ~Lee Child
SNAKE SKIN, a USA Today Bestseller
BLOOD STAINED, a USA Today Bestseller
KILL ZONE, a Suspense Magazine Book of the Year
AFTER SHOCK, a novella
HARD FALL, Winner of the 2015 Thriller Award
BAD BREAK, a novella
Beacon Falls Mysteries, Featuring Lucy Guardino
If you enjoy captivating suspense and intelligent storytelling, with strong and vulnerable characters and a freight-train pace, then you'll love the rush of this heart-pounding thriller.” ~Fantastic Fiction
LAST LIGHT
DEVIL SMOKE
OPEN GRAVE
GONE DARK
BITTER TRUTH
Renegade Justice Thrillers, featuring Morgan Ames: Meet Everyone’s Favorite Teenage Psychopath…
FIGHT DIRTY, Renegade Justice #1
RAW EDGES, Renegade Justice #2
ANGELS WEEP, Renegade Justice #3
LOOK AWAY, Renegade Justice #4
TRIP WIRE, Renegade Justice #5
Compelling…I love how the characters come alive on every page.” ~Jeffery Deaver
Fatal Insomnia Medical Thrillers: What Keeps You Awake at Night?
FAREWELL TO DREAMS, Fatal Insomnia Book #1
A RAGING DAWN, Fatal Insomnia Book #2
THE SLEEPLESS STARS, Fatal Insomnia Book #3
CJ Lyons scores a major triumph. Totally absorbing and impossible to put down.” ~Douglas Preston
HART and DRAKE Medical Suspense
A pulse pounding adrenaline rush.” ~Lisa Gardner
NERVES OF STEEL, Hart & Drake Book #1
SLEIGHT OF HAND, Hart & Drake Book #2
FACE TO FACE, Hart and Drake Book #3
EYE OF THE STORM, Hart and Drake Book #4
Shadow Ops, Romantic Thrillers
CHASING SHADOWS, Shadow Ops Book #1
LOST IN SHADOWS, Shadow Ops Book #2
EDGE OF SHADOWS, Shadow Ops Book #3
A high-stakes adventure with dire consequences.” ~Steve Berry
About CJ:
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty novels, former pediatric ER doctor CJ Lyons has lived the life she writes about in her cutting edge Thrillers with Heart.
CJ has been called a “master within the genre" (Pittsburgh Magazine) and her work has been praised as “breathtakingly fast-paced” and “riveting” (Publishers Weekly) with “characters with beating hearts and three dimensions” (Newsday).
Her novels have twice won the International Thriller Writers’ prestigious Thriller Award, the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award, the Readers’ Choice Award, the RT Seal of Excellence, and the Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery and Suspense.
Learn more about CJ’s Thrillers with Heart at www.CJLyons.net
Want more of CJ Lyons’ Thrillers with Heart? Download the complete booklist at CJLyons.net
LUCY GUARDINO THRILLERS:
SNAKE SKIN
BLOOD STAINED
KILL ZONE
AFTER SHOCK
HARD FALL
BAD BREAK
LAST LIGHT
DEVIL SMOKE
OPEN GRAVE
GONE DARK
BITTER TRUTH
RENEGADE JUSTICE THRILLERS, featuring Morgan Ames:
FIGHT DIRTY
RAW EDGES
ANGELS WEEP
LOOK AWAY
TRIP WIRE
FATAL INSOMNIA MEDICAL THRILLERS:
FAREWELL TO DREAMS
A RAGING DAWN
THE SLEEPLESS STARS
HART AND DRAKE MEDICAL SUSPENSE:
NERVES OF STEEL
SLEIGHT OF HAND
FACE TO FACE
EYE OF THE STORM
SHADOW OPS, ROMANTIC THRILLERS:
CHASING SHADOWS
LOST IN SHADOWS
EDGE OF SHADOWS
CAITLYN TIERNEY FBI THRILLERS:
BLIND FAITH
BLACK SHEEP
HOLLOW BONES
ANGELS OF MERCY MEDICAL SUSPENSE:
LIFELINES
WARNING SIGNS
URGENT CARE
CRITICAL CONDITION
YOUNG ADULT THRILLERS:
BROKEN
WATCHED
CO-WRITTEN WITH ERIN BROCKOVICH:
ROCK BOTTOM
HOT WATER
SINGLE TITLE STANDALONES:
LUCIDITY, a Ghost of a Love Story
BORROWED TIME
Copyright CJ Lyons, LLC, “CJ Lyons” and “Thrillers with Heart” Trademarked by CJ Lyons, LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems-except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews-without permission in writing from its publisher.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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About the Author
Pediatric ER doctor turned New York Times bestselling thriller writer CJ Lyons has been a storyteller all her life—something that landed her in many time-outs as a kid. She writes her Thrillers with Heart for the same reason that she became a doctor: because she believes we all have the power to change our world.
