“I’ll take care of her. I always do.” Latham bent and brushed his fingers over Samantha’s cheek. “Thank you for bringing her back to me.” He looked up at Blake and smiled as he rose to his full height. “It’s just a pity that her eyes aren’t open so that she can see this last moment. I had so hoped she’d be able to witness it.”
The bastard was going to kill him. Blake tensed, knowing he’d have only one chance—“Goodbye, Agent Gamble.”
Samantha rolled to her side, grabbing Latham’s legs. Her arms locked around them, and she yanked, hard. He let out a sharp cry, falling back and slamming down beside her onto the deck.
And in the next breath, Blake was on the bastard. He grabbed the gun and shoved it right between Latham’s eyes. “Have fun in hell,” Blake whispered.
Latham’s eyes widened—and there was no missing the fear there.
“Blake?” Samantha’s voice. Weak and worried. “Blake…you can’t…”
And the fear eased from Latham’s gaze. His lips even started to curl into one of his taunting smiles. “That’s right, you can’t shoot me. Not like this. Not when I’m unarmed. It’s not what good agents do. And what will Samantha think of you? She’ll never look at you the same way. She’ll—”
Fuck you, Latham. “I told her I was killing you long before we ever stepped foot on your damn boat.” Now it was his turn to smile at the bastard. “But a fast death would be too easy for you. After all you’ve done, all the lives you’ve destroyed, you have to pay first.”
He heard the shriek of sirens in the distance. Was that Lewis, coming to the rescue? He’d been stationed near shore with a Coast Guard team at the ready. Sound traveled so easily on the water. Had they heard the gunshot? Decided to rush to the rescue? Or had Josh’s team radioed them when they’d gotten the blonde out of the water?
“Going to torture me?” Latham taunted. “And here I didn’t think that was your style.”
It’s not, but for you, I’d make an exception. “Hell for you,” Blake said quietly, “is going to be a cell. It’s going to be solitary confinement. It’s going to be you, locked away from everyone else for years. No more games, no more experiments…just a small cell. A cage that you’ll be trapped inside as you slowly rot away.”
Then he heard the slosh of water. Blake glanced toward the ladder.
Josh tossed his mask onto the deck. His breath panted out. “Hung on to the side…when this bitch took off…” He climbed forward, chest still shaking. “Thought you needed…backup.”
He’d had backup. Even shot, nearly drowned, Samantha had been there to watch his back.
“Samantha!” Latham’s voice. Sounding…lost. “What’s happening?”
“You’re going away, Cam,” she whispered back. But her voice was filled with so much pain.
Samantha?
Josh rushed forward. He put his hands on her stomach. “She needs help.”
“Sam?” Now even Latham was afraid.
The bastard should be.
If Samantha died, Blake would make sure every day of the man’s life was agony.
* * *
WHEN SAMANTHA OPENED her eyes, she was in a white hospital room. Sunlight poured through the window on the right, trailing over the bed, and on her left…
Blake sat there, holding her hand.
She stared at their linked hands a moment, remembering the night before. The water, the boat, the gunshot blast. She remembered floating in the water, not having the strength to kick up, and then…then she’d been in Blake’s arms.
“You’re awake.” His voice was rough, a little ragged. “Are you in pain?”
A little, but a little pain meant she was alive, so Samantha wasn’t about to complain. “Where is he?”
Blake’s dark brows rose. “Latham? He’s currently enjoying the hospitality of a jail cell, one guarded by three FBI agents and half of Lewis’s men. They’re making sure that he doesn’t get away.” He leaned closer to her. His green eyes were turbulent, brimming with emotion. “You weren’t supposed to be hurt. You weren’t supposed to nearly die for me.”
She swallowed. “It…was just a flesh wound.” She tried to smile at him. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
He didn’t smile back. “You nearly bled out before help could arrive. They had to airlift you here. You almost died out on that godforsaken boat.”
She didn’t remember that part. She remembered being on the deck, seeing Josh climb up the ladder. Then he’d been pushing down on her wound, and the pain had been so intense that she’d blacked out. Or so she’d thought.
“I don’t want you risking yourself for me, not ever again.”
Samantha shook her head, moving it against the pillow. Can’t make that promise. “I realized…something…” At the bottom of that bay. “It wasn’t…my fault…that my father died.”
“Baby?”
“When you love someone…you want to keep them safe…it’s not a sacrifice.” Not even a little bit. No matter the pain. “It’s a…choice… It’s love.” He was her choice. Always had been. Always would be. “I love you.”
He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Samantha, you own my soul. You have from the moment we met. But, please, I am begging you…don’t ever scare me like that again, okay? Next time, let the psychopath shoot me. Let him throw me overboard, let—”
“We stopped…him?”
Blake nodded.
“Good.” There would be no more deaths on her conscience. No more new additions to her nightmares. “Now…what?”
“Now you get better.” He pressed another kiss to her lips. “Now you get stronger. Now you get back to ass-kicking form.” Another kiss. “And when you do…you marry me.”
What? That marriage bit hadn’t necessarily followed the order she’d expected.
Gruffly, he said, “When you’re out of the hospital, I’ll do it right…down on one knee, flowers, candy, anything. I just want to be with you. I want to love you every single day of your life. I want to give you good memories, I want to make good memories with you. I want to show you that the world is more than the nightmares we have…that it can be so much more.”
She already knew that. After all, she had him. “I’ll say yes—” her fingers squeezed his “—when you get around to asking right.”
He smiled at her, a wide smile that lit up his gorgeous eyes. “I’ll make sure I remind you of that.”
He would.
Not that she’d need reminding. “Chocolate,” Samantha said, considering this for a moment. “When you ask…make sure I have chocolate on hand.”
His smile slowly slipped away. “I will give you anything you want, always. Just make me one promise…”
She stared into his eyes.
“Don’t ever leave me.” She could hear his fear. “Cameron was wrong about you, baby. So wrong. There isn’t anything dark or tainted about you. You’re what’s good in the world. You are my world. And I need you. I need you to keep going. I need you to help keep me strong. I just…need you.”
Just as she needed him.
“I love you, Samantha Dark. I’ll always have your back. I’ll always be at your side.”
And she believed him. She trusted him.
Completely.
“Partners for life?” she whispered.
“Partners forever.” His lips took hers.
EPILOGUE
SAMANTHA’S HEELS CLICKED on the hard floor as she headed back to see the prisoner. A maximum security facility meant that she’d been searched, ID’d and triple checked until she was close to screaming.
But…
Procedures were procedures.
The guard in front of her typed a code into the keypad and finally—finally—she was escorted to the room that waited. The prisoner was al
ready seated, seated and cuffed to the table.
“Hello, Cameron,” Samantha said, making sure to keep her voice mild. “You’re looking well.”
He smiled at her. “Utter bullshit.” He glanced down at the orange jumpsuit. “I look horrible in this.”
The black was gone from his hair. His tattoo—turned out it had been temporary henna ink—was long gone, too. Clever Cameron. That tattoo had actually hidden the scar she’d given him from their first battle, when she’d sliced at him with the letter opener. Since his arrest, he’d lost his extra weight, trimmed down, and were it not for that garish prison uniform…
He would have looked just like his old self.
“How do you feel?” Cameron asked her. His gaze swept over her, and there was more than a glint of concern in his stare. “All healed?”
“From your attempt to kill me?” She tilted her head and considered that. “Yes, I’m good, thanks.”
The guard watched them, standing just a few feet away.
“You look very official,” Cameron announced. His fingers drummed against the table. “Back with the FBI?”
“Um, yes…” She sat down in the chair across from him. “Bass was grateful to me. Turns out that people appreciate it when you save their lives.”
“Imagine that.”
“So he thought it would be…advantageous…to have me back at the FBI. At first, I wasn’t so sure about the idea.” She shrugged. “But then he told me that I could open my own unit, of sorts. You see, he wants me to help train a new breed of profilers there.”
He lifted one brow. “Tell me more.”
That’s why I’m here. “He thought my connection to you was a weakness. That because of our personal history, I couldn’t do my job right.”
“But here I am…” He glanced around. “In fucking hell.”
“Indeed.” She smiled at him and ignored the pang in her chest. “So that got me to thinking…and it got him to thinking…perhaps the personal connections that people have to killers, well, those connections aren’t a hindrance. They can be an advantage. They can show us more about how to think like a killer, how to capitalize on a killer’s weaknesses. How to bring down those killers…”
He leaned back in his chair. “You were faking when Gamble brought you back on the boat. I thought you were dying, but you were—”
“Using your emotions—the few you can actually feel—against you?” She nodded. “I was. Don’t get me wrong. I’d been shot and I’d swallowed a gallon of the bay, but I was still strong enough to get to you.” She stared straight at him. “And I did.”
His jaw tightened. “What about the girl? I’ve been trying to puzzle that out—”
She was sure that save had pissed him off. He’d planned so carefully. We planned better. “We had a team in the water—” under the water “—and when you tossed her overboard, they were there to make sure she survived.”
He glanced away from her. “So that’s it? You’re here to tell me about your new job, to gloat because you won—”
“It was never a game.” Her voice was soft now.
Cameron looked back at her. “Wasn’t it?” He, too, had lowered his voice. As if the place weren’t full of cameras and audio equipment—sophisticated equipment that would pick up every word they said.
“We found the real Brock Chambers.” Another death. “His body—or rather, what was left of it—washed ashore in Key West.”
Cameron smiled. “Guy had a real great boat. Just couldn’t help myself.”
She didn’t smile back. “I think you could have, Cam. That’s what hurts me the most. I think, all along, that you could have stopped yourself. You said it was about me. About losing me, but I wasn’t what held you in check all of those years.”
His lashes lowered. “Yes, you were.” And the arrogance was gone from his voice. “I always felt the hunger inside of me. I could feel it growing every single day. I thought…if I learned more, if I studied more, I could figure it out. I could stop it. I could beat it.”
She waited.
“Then I met you.” He looked up. “You made me…not feel like the freak in the room. You looked at me as if I were normal. I wanted to be normal.”
“You didn’t kill anyone for years. You made it all that time—”
“Everyone has a trigger.” He rolled back his shoulders. “You were mine.” His gaze swept over her face. “Did you think he was going to kill me?”
Blake.
She didn’t answer.
His lips twisted. “Would you have still loved him if he did?”
“Yes.” That truth, she would give to him.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “You have him fooled, don’t you? You have them all fooled. They think you’re so good, but the truth is…you were always just like me.”
And that was why she’d come. Why she’d needed this last visit with him. Before she started working on Bass’s new profile unit, she’d had to look at the mirror of herself and see if what Cameron said was true.
A personal link to a sadistic killer…could anyone touched by that darkness live with the taint?
Could you go on, have a normal life…be strong? Be happy?
She looked into his eyes. The friend she’d known…it was as if they were meeting for a little catch-up lunch. Friend, lover, killer.
“Goodbye, Cameron.” Now she was sad. Samantha stood.
“That’s it?” He shot to his feet, too, but the cuffs didn’t let him go far.
The guard tensed.
“You gave me a confession for the murder of Brock Chambers. I needed that.”
A growl built in his throat.
“And you let me look in the mirror one last time.” He’d been her mirror, and she’d seen the truth. “I’m not you. I’m not bent or twisted, and there is no trigger that is going to push me over some edge.” She smiled at him. A real smile. “I’m going to stop killers like you. I’m going to stop the ones that want to cause nightmares and pain. And I’m going to use the ones they love to do it. Every killer has a weakness. I’ll find them. I’ll use them. And then the monsters out there…” Samantha straightened her spine and lifted her chin with determination. “They’ll eventually wind up in a place like this, just like you.” She nodded toward the guard. “Thank you, I’m done.”
She walked away.
“Samantha!”
It felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
“Samantha!”
She didn’t even have to look back. She’d made her choice.
She didn’t need to look into a broken mirror any longer.
* * *
HE WAS WAITING for her outside. Waiting in the sunlight. When he saw her, Blake hurried forward. “You okay?”
She smiled at him. For him. “I’m better than okay.”
She was free. Free to love, free to be happy, free to live her life in the light.
She rose onto her toes and kissed Blake.
Her partner, her friend…
Her lover.
A man she could trust completely. A man she could love—completely.
Without any fear of ever sliding into the dark.
* * * * *
ISBN-13: 9781460397848
After the Dark
Copyright © 2017 by Cindy Roussos
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written
permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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www.Harlequin.com
He had to take the shot…
And kill his lover.
Branded a traitor, Rikki Taylor is in the sights of sniper Quinn McBride’s rifle. Yet the Navy SEAL knows this woman intimately, and there’s no way she’d betray her country…or him. Saving her is his number one priority. Discovering her real secrets, including the baby she’s keeping from him, can wait—first, they have to make it out alive.
Red, White and Built
BULLETPROOF SEAL
Carol Ericson
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
PROLOGUE
The sweat stung Quinn’s eyes and he squeezed them shut for a second—just a second before he refocused on his target. Rikki’s beautiful face swam before him in his scope, her red hair standing out like a burst of flame against the emerald green landscape. Quinn’s hand trembled.
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