Deadly Abandon

by Kallie Lane

  The waitress topped off their coffees as Breeana continued to push congealed eggs around on her plate. It was only five-thirty but the café buzzed with early risers. She knew she looked a mess and didn’t need a mirror to tell her. Her clothes were still damp from the storm, her skin clammy and cold from the air blasting out of ceiling vents. Her make-up and hairstyle were yesterday’s memory. She felt like a dishrag after mopping up kennel spills. All things considered, she thought herself lucky to be still vertical and not sliding under the table to catch a few winks.

  She glanced Sully’s way and her abdomen scrunched into a ball of heat. He looked sinful in taupe jeans and a T-shirt with a gun clipped to his waist beneath a loose, black linen jacket. How could the man be so unflappable and yummy after he had whisked Cody to emergency, then challenged The Shepherd to save her son’s life? Not to mention overseeing evidence collection and the investigation into Cody’s poisoning and attempted kidnapping.

  “I’m hungry. I just can’t seem to get the food past the lump in my throat. I miss Cody and Dad already. I’m worried sick about them.”

  Sully tugged her hand across the table and squeezed her fingers. “You don’t have to worry about your family anymore. They are beyond The Shepherd’s reach now, and Cody has nothing but time on his hands to recover. You heard what the doctor said. He’ll be bouncing out of bed and nagging the rest of them in no time flat.”

  “I suppose.” She managed a wan smile. “Kids always recover faster than the rest of us. He’ll go postal when he finds out he’s been whisked away from the action though. At least I won’t have to deal with the fall-out.”

  “See? There’s always a silver lining if you search hard enough.” Sully winked, reached for his wallet, and threw some bills on the table. “If you’ve finished playing choo-choo with your food, let’s go.”

  She grabbed her purse and slid from the booth. “I have time for a run with the dogs before clinic hours. The fresh air will wake me up.”

  “Do you have to open the clinic today?” He grasped her elbow as his gaze scanned the crowd in the diner. “Don’t you have an emergency number listed when the clinic is closed?”

  “Don’t go there,” she said, tossing the curls in motion around her head. “We agreed it would be business as usual until The Shepherd is caught. I expect you to honor our agreement.”

  “I’m willing to do it. I’d just like you to catch some sleep before you croak from exhaustion. Does reasoning with you always have to feel like steering a course blindfolded through a minefield?”

  She ignored his sarcasm as they hustled to the Tahoe, and he unlocked the doors. “Why do I need to rest? You didn’t get any more sleep than I did last night. I don’t see you wanting to go to bed.”

  “Ouch. I always want to go to bed with you. I’m hard just thinking about it. As far as sleep goes, I’m used to taking catnaps from my military training.”

  He paused to shoot her a sexy grin. “Theo and Hawke can run the dogs. How about snoozing when we get back to the house? I’ll wake you in plenty of time to get to the clinic. Or, we could have wild chimpanzee sex. I’m ready to do my part.”

  That gave her something to think about. Would she be able to sleep? No, definitely not. She needed something, someone, to help her forget. She wanted Sully—his strength and the comfort of his body—to get her through this nightmare. Confusion ran neck and neck with desperation and the knowledge she wanted the man on so many levels. He was her sanity. She was already halfway in love with him. And yes, soon he would be her lover. He just didn’t know it yet.

  “Hey, I’m only teasing you about the sex, trying to lighten the moment a little.” He hugged her waist and smoothed a kiss against her temple. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The walls of the beach house closed in around him. He couldn’t breathe. Tears of anger and disgust blurred his vision. The Shepherd sank to the floor, hugged his knees to his chest, and rocked back and forth. He focused on steadying his breathing.

  How can everything be so messed up?

  Breeana, a whore who didn’t respect God’s word, was alive. The Lord had called her home, trusted The Shepherd to send her on her way. And yet, she still breathed.

  Why can’t I get the job done?

  He gulped in air, hung his head in despair, swiped a sleeve across his runny nose, and crawled to the side of the bed. Clasping his hands together, he heaved his elbows to the mattress, planted his knees on the hardwood floor, and prayed for guidance.

  Eventually, it came to him—the reason for his failure. It’s the Devil’s work. He wants to keep her for himself. The Shepherd prayed fervently for Breeana’s eternal soul. He also implored God to give him the tools he needed to snatch her away from Satan.

  After all, he couldn’t use her family anymore. The cop had moved her son and father out of reach this morning. Heaven help him, he’d seen the helicopter take off from the hospital and had almost blasted it out of the sky. But, he couldn’t follow through, not with so many innocents on board. They didn’t deserve killing. Maiming? Sure, if it taught Breeana a lesson. But he wouldn’t kill an innocent…not unless she forced his hand.

  It was far better to keep his anger focused on his quarry. Yes, Breeana must die soon. The list of women who didn’t know their place kept on growing. God needed his help; he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t go to the next name on the list, not until Breeana was sacrificed.

  Above all else, he had to be careful. No more hidden cameras tracking back to him. And last night at the hospital was lousy planning. He’d almost had a coronary when Sauvage popped out of the elevator with the bitch riding shotgun. He barely had time to escape, and he’d ditched his disguise—another dumbass move. What if the cops found it? They could lift his prints off the eyeglasses and hospital ID. Or maybe they’d find hair follicles, or skin cells on the hospital scrubs.

  No more mistakes.

  The end game for Breeana will come soon. The Lord has ordained it, and the Lord is never wrong!

  ****

  “Bree?” The house was so quiet Sully could hear a pin drop, and Breeana was easing down on his bed. He must have dozed off the second he hit the pillows. He thought he was dreaming at first, before he hauled himself into a sitting position and caught her naked silhouette against the backdrop of closed louvers covering the windows. What the hell is she doing? When she threw back the covers and slid the protection over his erect member, he knew.

  “Did anyone see you come in here?” he croaked, sweat breaking out on his body as he moved to Red-Alert mode. God, she is beautiful. Everything he wanted. Everything he shouldn’t have. It wasn’t right. He wanted to take her hard and fast. He knew she deserved better.

  She shook her head and whispered in his ear. “No, Hawke and Theo are still out with the dogs.”

  Shit. Sully was so wide awake now his body parts argued for control with the sane part of his brain that knew he should push her away. Breeana climbed on top of him, her teeth scraping his neck as her hands roamed further south to circle his equipment. He stilled her furtive movements, his palms gliding down her slender arms.

  Her sweet musk engulfed him. The honeyed scent clung to him like a homing device. It tempted. It teased. Not good. Breeana needed the comfort of his embrace right now, not him ramming himself into her.

  She also deserved church bells and bouquets, while he was the poster boy for love ’em and leave ’em. Nothing would change because they exchanged body fluids. He craved her, but was he man enough to keep her? It had to stop before he did something stupid. Like take what she offered, and say to hell with tomorrow.

  He tried to move her off him. She clung like Velcro around his neck. God, I am only human. He wanted to shove his tongue into her amazing mouth until he stroked her tonsils. But, he had no business seeking redemption with a woman like her. “Go back to your own bed. Get the hell out!”

  She steadied herself on his lap and met his eyes. “I’m not g
oing anywhere.”

  “If this is your way of thanking me for keeping you alive and saving your son, you can forget it.”

  “Sully, I…”

  “Shh…hear me out.” He cupped her face with his hands and almost lost himself in the emerald hurt of her eyes. Lord have mercy. “I’m a lone wolf, cookie. I always will be. While I want to know you better, I’m not sure I can give you what you need. If you want rough and meaningless sex, then I’m your man. If it’s a long-term relationship you’re after, you are in the wrong bed.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.” She looked him straight in the eye and feathered kisses across his jaw. “What I need is for you to get down off the soapbox and make love to me. I’m so hot, Sully, so very, very hot. I’m burning up. You’re the only one who can help me.”

  Point taken.

  He could feel her pulsing heat as she positioned him beneath her and slid herself down his rock-hard shaft, inch by agonizingly slow inch. Her body arched, her small hands dancing across his chest.

  Hell, he wasn’t a saint. He was locked and loaded with a round already in the chamber. He latched onto her creamy breast, nipping and suckling every delicious inch. One hand cupped her sweet ass and squeezed, his fingers parting the indent there. His other hand circled the bull’s-eye shielded beneath her auburn curls. He penetrated those curls and stroked her delicate nub, already slick with moisture. Joining the rhythm of his busy fingers, his penis thrust itself home.

  “Come for me,” he groaned. Breeana trembled and mewled. He tongued her breasts again, licked his way from one pointed peak to the other while he caressed the swollen silk of her sex. The scent of her fiery heat drove him to a frenzy. He gentled the kiss and eased off on the tension. He had to slow down, back way the hell off. She was delicate and small to his hard and mean. He didn’t want to hurt her. “Tell me what you want, Bree.”

  “Damn you for stopping.” She hitched in a ragged breath, her head falling forward as a sob racked her lips. Her hands stilled on his shoulders. “I want you! Now!”

  No woman had ever made him want like this. He was torn between her fragility and his need to take himself home inside her. The need to protect her from his big, bad self battled the need to lose himself in her softness. It tore at his heart. But, pleasure won out. He gave up the fight and rocked his hips against her. Breeana moaned, her muscles clenching around him. Together, they rocketed into another dimension.

  Sully grabbed a shower while Breeana slept, stepped back into his boxers, and flopped on the bed. She opened her eyes, stretched like a kitten, and snuggled against him. Sully prodded her about the change of heart. “I thought you wanted us to get to know each other better before we made love.”

  “True, I did.”

  “I am grateful, cookie, but how did you end up in my bed?”

  Breeana smiled and poked him in the ribs with her elbow. “It was when you told me you didn’t want me parading around half-naked in front of your friends the other evening. I got hot and bothered because you were hot and bothered. Then I thought, if we could get sex out of the way, we could just go about our business. Micah would quit flirting with me, and you could focus more on finding the killer and less on what I was, or wasn’t, wearing.”

  “Ha,” he snorted, “like that’s going to happen. Mic is a natural born flirt. He’ll keep after you like a tick on a deer. And, I’ll want to rip your clothes off every time I’m in the same room with you.”

  She sighed against his neck, her lips planting a kiss there. “It could be arranged.”

  Sully laughed. No other woman had ever affected him the way she did. She stunned him. She made him feel alive. She smelled like a rain forest, sultry and hot. He reached for her again, moving down her length to the juncture of her thighs.

  “Your calves belong draped over my shoulders. Then there are your thighs…and…” His tongue slid home, gliding across the molten heat of her sex.

  “Sully?” She moved her hands as if to stop him, stunned confusion clouding her gaze. He was beyond the point of doing the gentlemanly thing. He shackled her wrists in a gentle grip and entered her with two fingers pumping. His mouth feasted as she writhed, her hips cradling him where he nestled against her sex. Moisture gathered on his tongue, and her scent drove him wild. His fingers delved deeper and circled, giving and taking, until she throbbed like a wild thing.

  Breeana whimpered as she rode to climax. He kept pace with her, laving and stroking, increasing and slowing until she shattered against him, again and again. He brought her down easy, hyped by her body’s responses and humbled by her trust. He ignored the ache in his groin as he pulled her against him and smiled. “You can tuck the purple vibrator in the back of your closet from now on. You won’t be needing it.”

  As the words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back. He knew he shouldn’t encourage her, or a relationship. What the hell was I thinking? Releasing a long breath, he realized he was in a world of shit where she was concerned.

  ****

  Sully needed a solid lead on The Shepherd. The investigation had stalled, and day after day, he watched the tension build in Breeana. Hell, she barely spoke to him anymore. He passed by her bedroom door, thought about knocking, and changed direction for the kitchen. What’s the use? She won’t answer anyway.

  Theo grabbed two beers from the fridge and tossed him one. “Where’s Bree?”

  “In her room, resting.” Sully sank into a chair across from his brother.

  Theo twisted the cap off his beer and took a swallow. “Look, bro, you have to drag her out of there. We’ve barely seen her in days.”

  “You’ve barely seen her?” Sully grabbed his brother’s arm. “You mean to tell me she’s holed up in there all day long, too?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m telling you, man, except for when she’s working at the clinic. When she’s home, it’s tough pulling her out of there for meals.”

  “I didn’t realize, Theo. I’ll talk to her in the morning.”

  “All right, bro. Let me know if there’s anything the rest of us can do.”

  It was no big surprise, because Breeana hadn’t made another appearance in Sully’s bedroom either. And while his body protested, he understood. Being separated from her family and living in fear had to be hell. No small wonder she didn’t want to talk to anyone.

  She also needed sleep. Romping with him between the sheets wouldn’t give her that. Still, he wondered if she kept her distance for another reason. Was she still determined to set herself up as bait for The Shepherd? The thought stayed with him when he crashed for the night. He had the mother lode of all nightmares.

  Killers and victims haunted his sleep on a regular basis, but this nightmare was different. Breeana had the starring role. She reached out to him, begged him to help her, blood spattering the white silk of her gown. Dear Christ!

  Sully snapped awake and raced to her bedroom, almost colliding with Hawke in the hallway. He just about puked with relief when he opened her door. The hallway light bathed her. Curled in on herself, she was a tight ball of nerves gripping the edge of the mattress. He sank down beside her and hauled her against him, tucking her head under his chin. He needed to hold her.

  Breeana jerked awake at his touch and cracked an accusing eye in his direction. “Why hasn’t he come for me yet?”

  Her voice was soft and husky from sleep. Just the sound of her tightened his groin muscles. He wanted her. He ached to touch her, to pour himself into her, to make her forget the only way he could.

  Right, dirt bag. Go ahead, take advantage of her while she’s still reeling from the separation of her family and facing the prospect of being caught by The Shepherd. How about keeping your damn hands to yourself and cutting her some slack?

  He clenched his jaw against the throb in his groin. “Are you so bored with life you need The Shepherd to attack you to break the monotony?”

  “Don’t be obtuse. It’s the waiting that gets to me. I don’t know how much longer I can stand
it.”

  “You’ll stand it as long as you have to.” He tunneled a hand through her hair. He wanted to bury his face in its fragrant softness, flip her over, and kiss her brainless.

  “Patience was never my strong suit. I want it to be over, Sully. I want my family back!” She shoved his arms aside and tumbled out of bed, grabbed some clothes from the dresser, and padded to the bathroom.

  The hallway light shone through the thin fabric of her nightshirt. Sully stifled a groan and a major jones, a reminder he was a healthy male in the prime of life who wasn’t getting what he needed. He didn’t go after her and try to calm her down. If he didn’t stand strong for her now and expect her to do the same, she would break. Then they would both be lost.

  He watched her disappear before grabbing the phone and dialing Millette’s cellular. It was the middle of the night, but who cared? “I got your message. What’s up?”

  “They found a floater out by the Ste-Catherine locks a few hours ago. Marie Matisse will perform the autopsy later today. Her preliminary findings are the body matches Hannah Grimes’ general physical description. It looks like another murder, Lieutenant.”

  Sully cursed. “Did you find anything at her house to indicate she knew her attacker?”

  “Nada. Whatever Ms. Grimes knew, she took to the grave with her. The old priest, Father Mike, is trying to put together a list of parishioners for the time the rosaries were stolen. It will take some time. St-Pat’s records aren’t computerized and the priest says only God knows where Hannah Grimes archived anything.”

  “Does he remember anyone who might fit the bill for our unsub?”

  Sully knew it was a long shot. His sister had already explained psychopaths rarely exposed the dark side of their personalities to ordinary folk. Still, Hannah Grimes knew something and whatever it was had gotten her killed. Maybe she had shared her suspicions with someone else at the parish.

  “While the priest is big on longevity, he’s real short on memory. I don’t think he can remember what he had for breakfast this morning, let alone dig through the past. The old guy’s a touch senile. I’m afraid Hannah Grimes was the only one who could have told us anything useful.”