He wanted to punch holes into some walls.
“Curtis, call the team in and have them strip this place bare. I want all her tech pulled, and have her vacuumed for any fibers. On this one, I’m pulling rank. Doctor Bentley isn't to touch her until she’s completely cleaned off. We can’t risk losing this trail.”
He understood his boss’s angst.
“I’m on it.”
“Find me this asshole,” he growled.
Then he walked out before he started throwing things.
Croft was furious and out of control.
* * *
Two Hours Later
Midnight
To say that he was a man on the edge would be an understatement. Croft was nearly ready to blow his lid over all this. It was one thing to lose the next lead by minutes, but now he’d nearly lost his wife.
Again.
He wasn’t sure he could handle much more. This was getting too close for comfort, making him edgy as hell.
As he approached her hospital room door, Croft could hear her talking to her partner. Emma was giving her a detailed report, and it was breaking his heart.
Not only because she had to relive it, but because of the tone of her voice.
This was damaging her, and Greyson knew why.
He’d seen the blood.
The knife.
And the attacker.
There was no doubt that his Emma was reliving the night her brother was slaughtered.
Damn it!
He wished he could keep her safe.
“Can I have a hug?” Emma asked, softly.
Croft nearly wept at the broken childlike tone to her voice. In that moment, he’d do anything to help her feel secure again. Only, he didn't know what to do.
He was lost.
“Of course you can!” Brynn stated. “I’m here for you, Emma. How about we stay at your place tonight? That way, if you need me, you only have to call.”
“Thank you, but I’ll be okay. I just need my husband and a good night’s sleep.”
He took that as his cue.
“How’s my girl?” he asked, walking in.
Well, at least she was out of the bloody clothes and looked more alive.
“Hey, Grey,” she said, softly.
“I’ll take over, Brynn,” Croft said, dismissing her. “Thank you for sitting with Emma. I appreciate you keeping her company.”
“No problem! If you need me, all you have to do, Em, is call.”
Croft waited until Brynn was gone before he sat on the bed beside her. Immediately, she crawled into his lap.
His heart ached.
“Did you get her?”
“Well, yes and no.”
Emma didn't understand.
“When we arrived, she was dead.”
She stared at him. “What?”
Croft broke it all down for her, much like he would do if reporting to his boss. He wanted nothing more than to make her heart stop hurting and treating it like a job, allowed him the hope it would do just that.
“We were so close.”
He was well aware.
“Are you okay?” she asked, knowing that this had to make him incredibly mad.
“I’m furious, but when you were abducted, I handled it the wrong way. Now, I’m trying to stay calm. I want to rage around like a lunatic, but I can’t.”
“Thank you, Greyson. I need you to be the strong one right now. I’m not sure I can handle this.”
“I’ll carry you. We’ve already called in Mace Bristol, and tomorrow he’s going to handle this, unless you want it back. Captain Ford said you can run it again, if you want to.”
“I’m too close to the fire on this one.”
He knew it and was proud of her. She was being courageous by backing away. If their roles were reversed, he couldn’t do the same thing. He wanted to pull rank, stealing this out from under the police.
But for his wife, he wouldn’t.
For now, it was destined to eat away at him until he won. Croft knew he wouldn’t rest until he could destroy the killer once and for all.
“I’ll give Mace all the FBI help he needs. In fact, I’m going to lend him my best profiler and agent. He can use Paris and Tessa until this is over.”
“I know you didn't like him, but he didn't deserve to die like that.”
Croft knew who she was talking about. It upset him that she thought he could be so cold.
“I agree.” It was all he could say at that point. While he despised the man, he wouldn’t wish that kind of death on his enemy.
It wasn’t the kind of man he was.
“Can we go home, Greyson? I want to get a shower and sleep.”
Somehow, he didn't buy that she would rest peacefully, but he would give her anything she wanted.
Emma was his concern now.
Pulling off his FBI jacket, he wrapped it around her scrub clad body, right before swinging her up in his arms.
“Thank you. My entire body aches.”
He wanted to erupt, but knew he couldn’t. All of this reminded him of what had already happened to her. The last thing she needed was him flying off the handle.
This had to be about Emma.
Her heart.
Her emotional scars.
The physical pain.
Resting her head on his shoulder, Emma let her husband take care of her. For now, she couldn’t handle it alone. When the cool breeze touched her skin, she knew they were outside. It wasn’t long before there was a barrage of shutter clicks and questions.
Before the media could get too many shots, they were in the back of the vehicle that was reserved for the director of the FBI.
“Home, sir?” asked the driver.
“Yes, and lose the assholes,” he demanded.
Emma focused on his cologne until she drifted off. It was the one place where she could forget.
No, make that two places. In his arms and buried in the depth of sleep--they were the only places where solace would be found.
She didn't want to remember the man who died, or what she’d had to do.
For now, Emma Croft just needed to let it all go.
Before it drove her mad.
* * *
Chris Ford had just about enough.
When his detectives arrived, still looking like they were pulled from sleep, he told him that this was priority one.
Detective Bristol understood, and he was sure it was going to be a hard fought case. He’d been working on the last two murders, and neither was getting anywhere.
“We’ll handle it, boss,” stated Detective Heath Spencer.
Ford hoped so.
“What do we have?” Mace asked the ME.
Doctor Steele Bentley stood from zipping up the body bag before answering them. He genuinely enjoyed working with Mace Bristol. He, like Emma, was a good detective.
Breaking it down, he told them everything.
“So basically, you have nothing we don’t already know,” stated Detective Spencer.
Steele glanced over at the man. “I think you’re a little confused, Detective. I’m not supposed to do your job. I’m supposed to assist in giving you a helpful direction on how the person died. You’re the one supposed to figure it out. Maybe you should go back and retake your detective’s test, studying that part again.”
“Don’t get bitchy, Doc, I didn't mean anything by it. We’re all tired,” stated Spencer.
“It’s Doctor Bentley. I worked hard for that title, and I don’t tell you how to do your job, so don’t tell me how to do mine.”
With that, he pointed at his techs, and they took the body away.
“Wow, someone’s cranky.”
He stared at him. “I have four bodies to autopsy tonight, and a detective who thinks it’s my job to spoon feed him details. I’m not bitchy or cranky. I’m irritated.”
Steele took that moment to leave before he said anything more.
“What’s up with him?” Heath asked, as the
man walked away.
Ford knew that the ME was up for renewal to the job, and there was an investigation on how the FBI got the information and DNA from Patty Stout’s murder investigation. Even though she was dead, they still had the internal affairs unit investigating.
It sucked, but the IAB liked tying up loose ends.
“Don’t irritate the ME. He has a lot to do tonight. Contact the FBI lab in the morning. I believe Croft put his head tech Max on it.”
The men headed into the woman’s house to begin their work.
“There has to be something here that gives us a lead,” Detective Mace Bristol stated.
“Don’t worry. We’ll find something. The woman obviously knew her killer. She was sitting behind her desk. Maybe she left us a trail.”
He hoped so.
There was a lot riding on this.
The killer appeared to be getting rid of loose ends.
Mace knew that this wouldn’t deter the killer from taking another shot at the most important loose end of them all.
Emma Croft.
* * *
Across Town
At the Seedy Motel
The sex had been better than hot.
It was scorching.
He’d gotten her off twice before she found herself beneath him. For the last time, she was watching him with baby blue eyes, and begging him to screw her good.
Well, he gave her what she wanted.
Then, he’d had his fun.
When she closed her eyes, mid orgasm, his hands found her throat. As he began squeezing, she stared up in confusion.
All the air was leaving her body.
The capillaries in her eyes began to pop.
Death was coming, even as she scratched and clawed at his skin.
While with the others, he’d stayed partially clothed, this time, the little hellion dug her claws into his flesh.
It only made him harder.
Hornier.
Needier.
She made it better.
See? She had been the one. He’d chosen wisely and this was his reward. She wanted a daddy, and now she was getting the king of them all.
When her body quit, before he was quite there, he roared in anger.
“NO!”
But there was nothing he could do.
She was gone.
His body wouldn’t cooperate. Without her, he couldn’t finish up.
Frustration filled him as he began wailing on her body, punching, beating, pummeling until he could feel the bones breaking.
He was furious. This wasn’t fair!
He’d given her the fantasy of a lifetime, bringing her to heaven a few times, and yet she didn't return the favor.
Grabbing his knife, he chopped viciously at her scalp, destroying it. She wasn’t worthy of being remembered.
She was a failure.
She did this to him.
Now, she’d pay even more.
As he continued to get revenge, everything in him spiraled out of control.
How did he screw this up?
His only saving grace was that no one was there to watch him do it.
“I failed.”
Then, he hurriedly dressed to get out of there.
Tonight, he wanted to forget this one ever existed. She was a mess, causing him to make a mistake.
It had been so perfect.
He couldn’t believe it.
He wanted to cry.
No, at this point he was sure that heaven itself was weeping for him.
He was a failure.
* * *
Sky Villa
Monday Morning
Greyson Croft barely slept. When he’d gotten Emma home, she was out cold in his arms. Carrying her up to their room, he had one of the security guards help him. After the man opened their door, he thanked him and headed in.
Inside, he brought Emma to their bed. While he knew she wanted to shower, he was well aware that she was in a deep sleep. There was no way he’d wake her, so he let her hide in slumber.
Now, he was resting there, staring up at the ceiling.
A million things were rushing through his mind, like how he nearly lost her, how this killer was getting too close, and if Randall Mason had suffered.
There would be no sleep for him, and he knew it.
When Emma began stirring beside him, from the silent slumber, he focused on her.
She was whimpering and beginning to thrash and move erratically.
Here came the dreams.
This was exactly what he feared. There was no one on this Earth who could live what she did and not find themselves haunted by the events in sleep.
His wife was about to suffer, and he knew it.
When she sat up in bed, gasping for air, he was there.
“I’ve got you, Em. I’m here for you,” he reassured.
The tears started. They flowed hotly down her cheeks, leaving big wet plop marks on her bare shoulders.
How she got there, she’d never know, but Emma suspected Greyson had been taking care of her. Gone were the offensive scrubs, and instead she was comforted by his arms and soft cotton sheets.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here.”
“I saw him sitting there,” she whispered, horror present in her voice. “It was horrible.”
He saw the scene.
Croft understood.
Gently stroking her hair, he laid back, letting her cry on his chest. He’d be there for her, no matter what. “What can I do for you, Emma? Just tell me, and I’ll find a way to make it happen.”
She replied, through the tears, “We have to take care of him. No matter what, we have to put him to rest and finish this out. I know you’re worried that they’ll try for me again, but we can’t run from this, Grey. I want them to pay. God help me, but I want whoever is behind this to suffer and burn in the fires of hell.”
Croft let her vent. “I’ll find who did this. I didn't like the man, but he was a human being. I swear to you, Emma, I’ll track him down if it takes until my dying day.”
She was so glad she had him.
“What can I do for you now to make you hurt less?” he offered. If Emma wanted his heart, he’d pull it from his own chest for her.
Anything for his woman.
Anything at all.
“I need to feel, Grey. Make me feel something other than this hurt inside.”
He rolled with her, placing his wife beneath his body.
“Make me whole again.”
He would do just that. With gentle lips, he kissed away all the tears which had fallen.
Catching them all, he offered her peace.
When she ran her hands over his shoulders, his body roared to life. It was the instinctual call of mate-to-mate. The battered and nearly broken woman beneath him was his other half. Here was his soul, and he needed to offer her some peace.
Sliding down her body, he let his fingers stroke her petal soft flesh. His Emma always felt so good beneath him, the contrast quite evident. Where he was rough and hard, she was soft and perfect.
As his mouth teased and offered a moment to forget, Emma moaned. His lips glided effortlessly across her breasts, bringing her so much pleasure. His gentle touch was offering her so much joy.
He was healing her.
“Greyson!” she whispered, as his fingers slid lower, finding her wet and ready for him. Yet, he took his time, tormenting her with his gentle touch.
“I love tasting you, Emma. There’s nothing like it in the entire world.”
With that, he began lapping at her.
The pleasure was making her crazy. As always, her husband was making her forget.
“Grey!”
He nipped her, knowing she was close to falling. There was a tell-tale shake in her body, a quivering in her thighs, and he knew she was going to take the tumble.
When she slipped from the edge, falling into the pleasure, he paused. Greyson loved watching her face as it overtook her. The rapture was clearly e
vident, and it always astounded him that he was able to give her that.
She was definitely made for him.
When she surfaced, she was staring up at him. “I need more.”
“Just tell me what you want, Emma, and I’ll make it happen,” he promised.
“Let me ride you.”
Who was he to complain?
If his beautiful wife wanted to get on top, he’d be more than happy to accommodate.
He’d do anything.
When she was straddling his body, he watched as they came together. Her body swallowed his, taking him in. The way she enveloped him, sliding him home, made him wild.
It was hard not to thrust up, driving himself into her. Instead, he let Emma take her time, using him.
Today, he’d let her find the pleasure, and he’d hold out, even if it killed him.
As she began moving, bracing her hands on his chest, she stared down into his eyes. “I love you.”
His heart stuttered.
Whenever she said the words, it always affected him. “Oh God! I love you too, kitten.”
As she rode, he struggled not to leer too much. The bounce of breasts, the cascade of silky red hair, and her eyes--it all undid him.
“Grey!” she shouted as her body broke apart, tightening down on him.
He moaned, trying to stay in control, but it was so damn hard. There was a sexy woman bouncing in his lap, and all he wanted was to roll and take her.
Hard.
Fast.
For hours.
This just might kill him after all.
“Emma, honey, you’re going to be the death of me,” he whispered, not only talking about her using his body as some sexy carnival ride, but because he nearly lost her.
She stared down into his eyes, before bringing her lips to his in a heated kiss. Her mouth moved over his, as Greyson’s hands held her to his body.
“I want you to take me,” she whispered. “Make me forget everything but being yours.”
The words made him crazy.
She knew how to taunt the monster in him, and this was a sure fire way to push him out of control.
Heaven is Weeping (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 5) Page 34
