Evil Eye

by Amanda McKinney

  She quickly swallowed the gulp of beer she’d just taken. “About what?”

  “Five years ago.” He looked at her, his face serious now.

  “Oh.” She looked down. “Thanks. I was just doing my job, you know.”

  “And you’re damn good at it.”

  Her eyebrows tipped up. “Thank you.”

  He nodded. “You’re welcome.” He ran his fingers through his hair, seemingly uncomfortable to be apologizing. Or was it just that he didn’t like talking about anything that involved emotions?

  He continued, “I was new here, you know, at that time. It was the first case I worked. I wanted to prove myself.” He paused. “I’d just left the military… I was kind of in a bad place.” He looked at her, and his voice lowered a bit. “And by left, I mean, I got kicked out.” He took a quick inhale, straightened, and in a much lighter tone said, “Anyway, I’m sorry for being an asshole to you, five years ago.”

  “You’re forgiven, Luke. Don’t worry about it.” She lightly put her hand on his arm. “What happened?”

  He took a long—long—drink of beer, then looked at her. “When?”

  “You know what I’m talking about. Why’d you get kicked out? I heard you were in some super-secret, elite group or something. I heard you were top dog, too.”

  He shifted, again, and took another sip. After a moment, he told her the story of his last mission where a split-second decision to prevent a kidnapped woman from being sexually assaulted cost him his career in the military. She listened intently, hanging on his every word.

  “I guess you could say I wasn’t in the best headspace when you waltzed in and solved my case for me.” He looked at her, smiled.

  “I’m so sorry about what happened.”

  He shrugged. “Don’t be. That’s life; that’s how it goes. Just have to accept it and move on. For reasons I haven’t figured out yet, I’m here in this small, hillbilly, creepy town of Devil’s Den. And that’s okay, really; it’s not so bad.”

  She nodded—she completely agreed with that way of thinking. She was a believer that everything happened for a reason, and it was up to the person to decide how to let each event impact their life. Luke had made a decision to keep a woman away from a life filled with pain and torment, and as a result, he made the decision to be honorably discharged from his dream job. Then, instead of pissing and moaning about it, he accepted the first law enforcement position he could, and started over.

  And he made the decision to come back to her, tonight.

  He fiddled with the lace on his boot, and she could tell he wanted to change the subject.

  “Thank you for the food.”

  “Not as good as a dozen roses.”

  Dozen roses—Paul’s roses.

  “Depends on who the roses are from, I guess.”

  “Who’s this Paul guy?”

  “A friend.”

  “Wouldn’t happen to be the assistant district attorney would it?” He sipped his beer.

  “How did you know that?”

  “Met him a few times, and I actually just randomly ran into him and put two-and-two together.”

  She frowned. “At one-thirty in the morning?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s odd. I know he works late, though, frequently.”

  A second passed by. “So, just a friend, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “A friend doesn’t send a dozen red roses, Scar.”

  “Okay, fine… a friend with a crush.”

  He looked at her, his gaze penetrating. “A mutual crush?”

  She cocked an eyebrow, leaned forward. “Jealous?”

  He leaned forward, inches from her face. His eyes locked on hers and in a low, deep voice, he said, “What if I was?”

  She felt her pulse pick up as she stared into his deep brown eyes. “Then you should show up with two dozen red roses next time, Officer West.”

  He grinned and leaned into her neck. His warm breath just below her ear sent goosebumps flying across her skin.

  He whispered, “I can do better than that.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. She froze, anticipating what would happen next. A fresh round of goosebumps tickled her as he softly kissed her neck. Her heart began to pound.

  He swept his hand through her hair, lightly gripping the back of her head and looked into her eyes, with an intensity, a passion, that had butterflies erupting in her stomach.

  And then, he kissed her.

  Softly at first, until their tongues met.

  Fireworks exploded as she tilted her head, melting into his kiss. He gripped her hair, sending prickles across her scalp.

  Oh, my God.

  It was the best kiss she’d ever had in her life. Not too much, not too little, but more than that, was the chemistry making her weak in the knees. This was the feeling of chemistry—true chemistry.

  She shifted, angling herself toward him, wanting more. He must’ve taken that as her approval of what was happening between them because he wrapped his other hand around the side of her face, kissing her passionately, his thumb lightly sweeping across her cheek.

  She’d never been kissed like that before—with a man’s strong hands on her face. It put him in control, and that was sexy as hell. She felt the heat rise through her, a flush below—her body’s reaction to fire igniting between them.

  Suddenly, he pulled back and looked at her, his chest rising and falling heavily. He felt it, too.

  Excitement mixed with the emotions hurling through her body, and as if a magnet pulled her, she crushed her lips into his.

  That was it.

  No more wondering if the feeling was mutual, no more thinking, no more “what if’s.” Together, they tore off each other’s clothes, littering the small tent. He lowered her onto the sleeping bag. The golden glow of the lantern illuminated his perfectly chiseled body. Her eyes swept over him, in awe. He had wide, round shoulders and a muscled chest that faded down to a six-pack that she thought only existed in movies. Her gaze followed the perfect V that trailed down to his erection... also looking enhanced for the movies.

  With a twinkle in his eye, he looked at her body and said, “I didn’t think it was real… when I saw you naked.” He leaned down, licked her erect nipple and took it into his mouth. “You have the sexiest damn body I’ve ever seen in my life, Scarlett.”

  Scarlett.

  Her stomach danced as he lowered down on top of her, his lips meeting hers. Melting underneath him, she spread her legs for him, ready and wet.

  His tip swept over her opening as he kissed her, toying with her. Her body vibrated with anticipation, with need. Hunger. She felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest. Kissing him harder, she wrapped her arms around his back, running her fingers across his tanned skin, when, finally, he slid inside her.

  Her breath was taken away in an instant.

  She tipped her head back and groaned, closing tightly around him, feeling the sweet pain as he filled every inch of her. Slowly pressing deeper, deeper, as if savoring the sensation that was taking over his body. He was in no hurry. And neither was she.

  “Scar,” he whispered in her ear, as he settled into her.

  She squeezed around him, feeling a connection, a perfect fit, that she’d never felt before. They locked eyes and her heart skipped a beat. Whatever was happening now between them couldn’t be taken away. There was no going back.

  He kissed her, again, as he slowly slid out, then back in. They moved together, rhythmically, under the moonlight, every sensory in her body peaking. Somewhere in the movement, the lantern was knocked over and the tent went pitch-black. She gazed up at the stars twinkling above her, more beautiful, brighter than she’d ever seen.

  She was getting close, so close, when he pulled out and edged down her body.

  She inhaled deeply, her head spinning.

  His hands gripped her thighs and pressed them open, exposing her to him.

  Her heart raced.

  He pus
hed them open wider.

  She ran her fingers through his dark hair and watched the outline of his head lower into her.

  She gripped the edges of the sleeping bag as his mouth closed over her.

  Oh, my…

  His tongue slid over her clit, lightly circling, and tingles spread over the delicate skin. She began to pulsate, getting hotter with each stroke of his tongue. She squirmed, pulled at the sleeping bag, arching her back, the sensation building and building.

  But that's not what she wanted. That wasn't how she wanted it. She wanted to feel him release with her.

  “Luke,” she whispered. “Come here.”

  He lifted his head.

  “Come here.”

  Fire sparked in his eyes as he crawled on top of her, and this time, plunged into her.

  Aggressively.

  Yes.

  She dug her fingernails into his back and thrust her hips forward.

  In and out, harder, faster, faster, faster. Her clit tingled against the friction of his soft hair.

  Holding her breath, her muscles tensed and the orgasm exploded through her, the wetness sliding over him. He breathed, “Oh, my God,” as she felt the warmth of him release inside her.

  “Scarlett,” he whispered in her ear, his voice weak with exhaustion. Still deep inside her, he looked into her eyes, stroking the top of her head. A knot caught in her throat as she gazed back—her body was overwhelmed with sensation, her heart, with emotion. He kissed her forehead, then settled next to her.

  Dazed and breathless, she stared at the stars above, inhaling, exhaling, trying to ease her racing heart.

  He did the same.

  After a moment, she felt his stare, and looked over as he propped up on his elbow, gazing at her. He softly traced his thumb along her lower lip, leaned forward and kissed her lightly. His eyes filled with emotion as she stared back at him.

  He whispered, “I think I know why I’m here now.”

  The comment took her breath away.

  She smiled and kissed him.

  Yes, everything happens for a reason.

  CHAPTER 17

  5:23 a.m.

  Beep, beep.

  Scar jerked awake at the sound of a new text message on her phone. Her eyes darted around the dark tent and landed on the hunk of man sleeping soundly next to her.

  Oh. My. God.

  For a moment, she stared at him as the events from just a few hours earlier replayed in her head. Heat began to rise, remembering how good—incredible—it’d felt to be with him. She watched him breathe as if making sure it wasn’t all a dream.

  Beep, beep.

  She sat up, quietly fumbled through her bag and pulled out her cell phone.

  One new text from Ace—

  Just confirmed: Walter Thorne purchased a white van at a used car lot just outside of Tanksville, two days after he was released. Will let you know as soon as I get more info.

  Her mouth dropped open. She felt movement beside her.

  “What is it?” Luke sat up. “Everything okay?”

  Wide-eyed, she turned to him. “Ace just verified that Walter bought a white van two days after he was released from prison.”

  Luke straightened. “The same day someone saw a girl get pulled into a white van at the park.” His voice instantly alert.

  “Oh, my God, Luke. It was her. He took her. He has Athena.”

  He pulled on his T-shirt. “This is plenty to issue a BOLO on him. I’ve got to get to the station.”

  Her mind reeling, she said, “Could he have shot Maddie, too?”

  “We know the guy was at a damn shooting range at some point after he got released.” He slid into his jacket and checked his phone. “Step one is to find the son of a bitch and bring him in for questioning.” He clicked off the phone and slid it into his pocket. “Are you going to meet up with the girls?”

  She bit her lower lip, ignoring the question. “Jax. He’s the damn missing link in all this. We’ve got to find him.” She grabbed her sweatshirt. “Anything from Zander?”

  “Not since late last night.”

  “Jax never showed up at Maddie’s house?”

  “Nope.”

  “I’ll look for him. You go get Walter.”

  He nodded, paused, and turned her chin to face him. He smiled and kissed her softly on the lips.

  Her heart skipped a beat—a common side-effect this man was having on her.

  He winked, then pulled on his boots. “Keep your phone on you. I’ll be in touch soon.” He stood, and pulled her up, too. His gaze trailed down to her bare legs. “Wanna go for round two?”

  She laughed and slapped his arm. “No. We’ve got to get moving.”

  He smiled. “Later, then.”

  She smiled and nodded. “Yes, definitely.”

  He kissed her forehead, flashed her one more smile, and ducked out of the tent.

  Thirty minutes later, Scar slid into her backpack, slung her bag over her shoulder and took one last glance around to make sure she didn’t leave anything behind. The dimmest glow of dawn was just beginning to light the woods, and a thin fog rested on Devil’s Lake below.

  She stepped into the woods just as her phone rang.

  “Scarlett.”

  “Scar, it’s Max.”

  “Hey, Max. Look at you, up before six. Did you get the can and jean jacket?”

  “I haven't been to sleep, yet. Yes, Ace dropped them off late last night saying it was for you, and that it needed to be scanned ASAP.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “He also paid me double, but I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you that.”

  She smiled. “I’ll get the statement.”

  He laughed. “I figured. Anyway, thanks to the staff I’m paying overtime due to all the dead bodies that have been stacking up in Devil’s Den lately, I’ve already got your first round of results. Remember, this is just the basics; physical attributes. It will take some time to trace the actual DNA to get you a name.”

  She stopped in her tracks. “I understand. Okay, give me what you’ve got so far.”

  “First the can. There are two sets of DNA—

  Two different shades of lipsticks.

  “The first is female, estimated to be between sixteen and twenty-one years of age, blonde, with brown eyes.”

  Maddie Potter.

  He continued, “The second is female, black hair, blue eyes. Estimated to be between the same age range.”

  A zing of excitement shot through her—Athena Thorne.

  “That’s great, Max. Now the jean jacket…”

  “This one is interesting…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I pulled a strand of long black hair from it and compared it to the DNA on the beer can, and not surprisingly, it matched.”

  “So the owner of the jacket is the same person who drank the beer.”

  “Right, but there’s more. I also pulled a short piece of auburn-colored hair off the jacket and scanned it as well.”

  Her pulse picked up.

  “And, I’ll be damned, it’s an exact match to the black-haired DNA.”

  She frowned. “Wait… so both the auburn hair and black hair matches the DNA on the can?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you saying it’s the same person?”

  “Exactly.”

  She squeezed her face in confusion. What the hell?

  Max continued, “Best bet is that whoever it is, cut her hair and dyed it auburn at some point.”

  Her eyes widened, and her stomach dropped to her feet.

  Short, auburn hair.

  She gazed into the woods, remembering the last time she’d seen someone with short, auburn hair—the boy leaving Clarence Holmes’s trailer, dropping off Maddie’s rent.

  Jax was Athena.

  CHAPTER 18

  A rush of adrenaline surged through her as Scar pivoted and switched directions.

  Jax was Athena.

  But, why? Why did Athena
change her identity? More importantly, where the hell was she now? She had so many questions, and she knew a good place to start. Clarence Holmes’s trailer was about two miles west of the cliff if she remembered correctly. About a mile from Maddie’s house.

  Was it possible he knew Jax was really Athena?

  Regardless, his trailer was the last place she’d seen Jax—aka Athena—so she figured that was a good place to start looking and asking more questions.

  She was so close—so damn close to bringing Athena home and getting Fiona’s location.

  Excitement bubbled inside her.

  She pulled out her phone to call Luke when she heard her sisters’ voices just ahead.

  Shit. They’d probably just finished breakfast and were coming to check on her.

  She hunkered down, switched directions and slid behind a tree, then darted to another, and another, until she no longer heard them.

  She stopped, looked around and realized she’d gotten turned around.

  An eerie silence closed in around her. The fog had lifted from the lake below, settling in the woods, weaving around the trees like a snake slithering through the air. And it was getting thicker by the minute.

  Just then, she heard the rustle of leaves behind her.

  A chill ran up her spine.

  She slowly crouched down, hiding in the haze and pulled her Glock from her purse. She clicked her phone on silent and slid it into her pocket. The fog moved around her. She could feel its dampness on her cheeks.

  More rustling, and this time, the sound of footsteps, closer.

  Her heart started to race as she slid her finger over the trigger and looked in the direction of the noise.

  Through the dense fog, she saw the outline of someone, stealthily stepping through the thick brush—holding a gun.

  The person stalked past her, unaware of her presence and after waiting a beat, she began following.

  The minutes ticked by and the fog grew thicker, hampering visibility. She glanced up at the thick, grey clouds in the sky absorbing the light of the rising sun. It was an abnormally dark morning—not exactly the ideal scenario for sneaking behind someone through the woods.

  She gritted her teeth and pressed on.

  Who the hell was it?