by Cynthia Eden
She couldn’t breathe. Her chest hurt too much.
“You loved me,” he said. His eyes blazed. “With you, then, everything was so easy. I knew if I told you that I was there that night, that my father was the one driving when your mother died...you’d hate me.”
Her whole body just felt numb. “I read...the reports. Talked to the cops. The man driving the car, his name was Michael Smith.” She’d dug through the evidence when the memories and pain got to be too much for her.
Her father had never talked about the crash. She’d been seventeen when she went searching for the truth herself.
“After he died, I took my stepfather’s name.” His fingers were still tight around her. “My mom had remarried another man. Greg Quinn. Greg...was good. He tried to help us.”
Her heartbeat wouldn’t slow down. “The reports... The police said a minor was in the car.” They’d told her...the teenager had been the one to call for help. When they’d arrived on scene, he’d been fighting to free her mother.
Logan?
He would have been what then, fourteen?
“I went by Paul back then,” he said. “Logan’s my middle name.”
All these years...he’d kept this secret?
“I was arguing with him,” Logan told her, his voice slipping back into that emotionless tone that she hated. “He wasn’t paying attention. I was arguing, he was drunk...”
“And my mother died.”
A slow nod. He released her and stepped back. “If I’d been stronger, I never would have let him in that truck. If I hadn’t been yelling at him, maybe he would have seen her car coming.... I could have saved her, but I didn’t.”
Her face felt too hot. Her hands too cold. “My father knew.”
“Yes.”
Another secret. More lies.
Juliana held his gaze. “You asked me to run away with you. You said you wanted us to start a life together.” Kids. A house. “And all that time...”
“I wanted to be with you more than I ever wanted anything else in my life.” Now emotion cracked through his words. “Your father investigated me, found out who I was. The son of a killer.”
He was more than that.
“He was going to tell you. He told me to leave, or he’d—”
“And that made you just walk away? His threat?” She wasn’t buying that line. Time to try another one.
But he gave a hard shake of his head. “No, I left because he was right. You deserved more than me. My father was right, too, you know... In a lot of ways, I am just like him.” He lifted his hands, stared at his fingers. “I was made to kill.”
“Maybe you were made to protect.” She was tired of this bull. “You don’t have to be like him. Be your own person! You didn’t have to leave me alone—”
“You looked at me like I was a hero. I never wanted you to look at me...the way you are right now.”
She stepped back. “You should have told me from the beginning.” Everything could have been different between them. No secrets. No lies. “You just left me!”
Juliana took another fast step away from him.
“I came back.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Six months,” he said, jerking a rough hand through his hair. “I’d joined the navy. Tried to forget you. I couldn’t.”
“You didn’t come back for me.” The lies were too much. Why couldn’t he ever tell her the truth?
“You weren’t alone.”
Juliana blinked.
“You called him Thomas. He was blond, rich, driving a Porsche and holding you too close.”
“How do you know about him?” Thomas had been her friend; then after Logan left, he’d been more. She’d just wanted to forget for a while. To feel wanted, loved by someone else.
“You were sleeping with him.”
There was anger, jealousy—rage—vibrating in his voice now. She almost wished for that emotionless mask.
“I couldn’t breathe without thinking of you, but you’d moved on. Gotten someone better.”
She and Thomas had broken up after a few months. He’d been a good guy, solid, dependable, but he hadn’t been...
Logan.
“You had what you needed. I had no right to come back in and screw up your life.”
He’d come back.
“So I stayed away.” His hand rose to his chest. Pressed over the scar that was a reminder of the battles he’d faced. “I did my job.”
* * *
SUSAN STARED UP into Gunner’s face. Not a handsome face. Too hard. Too rough. This wasn’t an easy man before her.
She let her head fall forward, so weary she could hardly stand it. “I never wanted things to be like this.”
His hands came up to her shoulders. “You’re safe.”
She wasn’t. “I grew up with nothing.” Nothing but the looks of pity others gave her. “I swore that one day I’d have everything.” But Aaron was dead. His daughter was still alive. The will gave Susan nothing.
Just what I’ve always had.
Unless Juliana died, Susan would just get scraps.
Now she had Guerrero out there, waiting in the shadows.
Her shoulders hunched as she leaned toward him. “This isn’t the way I wanted my story to end.”
“It’s not over,” he told her as his hands tightened around her shoulders. “You think I didn’t want to give in when they had me in that pit? Giving up is easy. Fighting to live is the hard part.”
Yes, it was, but... “I’m a fighter.” Always had been.
“Good, you should—” His words broke off, ending in a choked gurgle.
Susan didn’t look up at his face. Her eyes were on her hands—on the knife she’d just shoved into his stomach.
You should have searched me. Guerrero had been right. An injured woman could get past nearly any guard. Some men just had blind spots. I slipped right past yours, Gunner.
She twisted the knife. “I’m not going back to nothing.”
Another choked growl.
Susan looked up into his eyes. His hands had fallen from her. “Sorry, but this time, you need to give up. There’s no point in fighting.”
Because he wasn’t going to keep living.
He slumped over and hit the floor with a thud.
* * *
A FAINT THUD REACHED Juliana’s ears. She frowned and glanced back up the stairs.
“We can’t change the past. If I could, hell, yes, I would,” Logan said, “but we—”
Glass shattered. Logan jerked—and red bloomed on his shoulder.
Then he was leaping toward her. He threw his body against Juliana’s, and they fell to the floor, slamming down behind the couch.
She heard shouts. Screams. More gunshots.
It sounded as if an army was attacking.
With Guerrero, that might be exactly what was happening. They had guards outside, local cops who’d been assigned to protect the house and her. Surveillance was watching, and backup would come, but...
More gunfire.
She grabbed Logan’s arm. Felt the wet warmth of his blood. “Logan?”
He raised his head. Stared at her with an unreadable gaze.
“Guess he took the bait,” he said.
The words were cold.
“Stay here, and keep your head down.”
What? He was leaving?
She held him tighter. Logan winced, and her hand dropped. “You can’t go out there!”
“I’m a SEAL. That’s exactly where I need to go.”
Into the fight.
“You won’t be afraid anymore. We’ll get his men. I’ll make sure one stays alive, and we will track Guerrero.” Then he kissed her. A hard, fast press of his lips. “Stay down.”
And he was gone. Rushing away and his blood was on her hands.
Juliana crouched behind the thick couch, breath heaving in her chest. Then she heard the scream. Wild, desperate and coming from upstairs.
Susan.
The g
uards outside were already under attack. Susan couldn’t get caught in the crossfire. The woman had suffered enough.
Because of my father. Because she was close to us.
Juliana knew she had to help her. Keeping low, she rushed across the room and used the furniture for cover as best she could.
Her hand was on the banister when another round of gunfire erupted in the room.
Chapter Ten
They were outgunned.
Logan grabbed the injured cop who’d been slumped near the porch and pulled the guy back, giving him cover. He let out two fast shots as he fired back at the attackers, who just weren’t stopping.
A quick sweep counted ten men. Twelve.
The cops at the front door were both down. Gunner was in the house. He’ll be out soon. Gunner never could stay away from a gunfight.
Jasper was firing, attacking from the distant right side, back near the heavy gate—a gate that was currently busted open.
Blasted your way in.
Syd would be coming. The woman was always their eyes and ears. She’d be watching the video surveillance, sending backup and joining the fight herself.
The woman could be lethal.
Logan grabbed the cop’s hand and shoved it against the guy’s wound. “Keep pressure on it.” The uniform was as pale as death, shaking, but he’d be okay. Provided he didn’t take another bullet.
Logan ignored his own injury, barely feeling the pain. He didn’t have time for it then. These men—they weren’t getting into the house. They wouldn’t get to Juliana.
He eased away from the cop and began to stalk his prey. He’d been trained for up-close-and-personal kills. He could get close and the prey wouldn’t know it. Not until it was too late.
Jasper kept firing and distracting the attackers so that Logan would have time to sneak up on them.
Leave some alive. He wanted to take them down but would kill only if necessary. These men had to be brought in alive—we’ll make you turn.
No one would be pulling knives and taking the easy way out of this mess.
Logan wasn’t going to allow for easy.
He snuck up on one of the gunmen, grabbed his hand and broke the wrist. The man’s weapon flew to the ground but he tried to kick out at Logan.
Logan punched him in the throat. The man never even had time to scream. In seconds, he was on the ground, and he wasn’t going to be getting up anytime soon.
One down.
* * *
CHIPS OF WOOD FLEW from the banister as Juliana rushed up the stairs. That last bullet had come too close for any kind of comfort.
She jumped off the stairs and hurried down the hallway. Just a few more feet...
Juliana shoved open her father’s bedroom door. “Susan!”
Susan spun toward her, a knife in her hands.
Juliana shook her head, stunned. “What—”
Her paintings were behind Susan. They’d been slashed.
“Run...”
A whisper. So faint she almost didn’t hear it, but Juliana’s gaze jerked toward that hoarse sound.
Gunner. On the floor. Covered in blood.
But then Susan leaped toward her and grabbed her hand. “You’re not running anywhere.” That knife flashed toward Juliana.
When you attack, use the strongest part of your body.
Juliana grabbed for the knife with her right hand even as she slammed her left elbow into Susan’s stomach. Susan stumbled back and grunted in pain.
The knife skittered across the floor.
“What the hell are you doing?” Juliana screamed because she didn’t want to believe what she was seeing. Susan couldn’t be in on this mess.
But then Susan yelled and launched herself at Juliana. The two women hit the floor, rolling in a tangle of limbs. Susan was the same size as Juliana, and the woman was fighting with a wild, furious desperation.
But she wasn’t the only one desperate to win this battle. Juliana felt more than a little desperate, too.
“Should have...died at the...cemetery...” Susan snarled as she slammed Juliana’s head into the floor. “Should have...”
Juliana shoved her fingers toward the other woman’s eyes. Susan shrieked and leaped back.
“You set the car bomb?” Juliana lurched to her feet as she tried to prepare for another attack.
Only, Susan wasn’t advancing on her. Instead, she’d run toward her father’s open safe. As far as Juliana knew, the only thing her father had ever kept in that bedside safe was a gun.
Juliana dived for the knife. It was close. She could get it and attack—
“Don’t move.” Too late. Susan had the gun. She had it aimed at Juliana. And the woman was...smiling.
Gunfire echoed from outside and Juliana tensed, but Susan just kept staring at her. “I went to so much trouble...had everything timed perfectly. But you wouldn’t get in the car.”
Juliana licked her lips. Susan’s back was to the large picture window in her father’s room. Gunner was to the right, lying in a growing pool of blood. The knife was a light weight in Juliana’s hand, but what good would it do against a gun?
Not much.
“Why?” Juliana asked with a shake of her head. “Why are you doing this?”
More gunfire erupted from below. A man’s pain-filled cry was abruptly cut off.
“Is Guerrero forcing you to help him?” Juliana pressed. She lowered the knife to her side, wanting Susan’s attention to shift away from the weapon.
But Susan just laughed. “The bomb was me. You think you know me? You don’t know anything about me or where I come from. Aaron didn’t know, either. He thought I was just another one of the brainless whores who’d be happy jumping at his beck and call.”
From the corner of her eye, Juliana thought she saw Gunner shift just a bit.
“I’ve seen things...done things...” Now Susan’s laugh held a desperate edge, but the gun in her hand never wavered. “I’m not going back to nothing because of you!”
“Susan, I haven’t done anything—”
“It all goes to you! The money. The house. Everything. He promised, but I saw the will—it’s all yours.”
Was this what it was about? Money? “Charles died in that bomb blast.”
“Am I supposed to care?” Susan lifted the gun. “I have to look out for myself. If I don’t...who will?”
There was no more gunfire from below. Was that good? Or bad? Logan, be safe. “I don’t care about the money. Take it.”
“I will.” Susan’s smile was grim. “When you’re dead. When everyone thinks that Guerrero took you out, I’ll take the money.” Now Susan did glance back over her shoulder toward that big window.
Susan had led Guerrero’s men to the house. The woman might have even given them security codes to get past the gate and inside the house. She had access to everything there, so getting those codes would have been easy for her.
“Guerrero wanted the evidence....” Susan’s gaze flickered back to the slashed paintings and hardened. “I thought I could give it to him.”
Juliana was guessing she’d thought wrong.
“Doesn’t matter,” Susan muttered. “He can still take you. Take you, kill you, and this mess will be over!”
Juliana inched forward. Slowly. Carefully. “You think he’s going to just let you walk away? That’s not how he works. No one walks away from him and survives.”
Susan’s smile twisted her lips. “That’s okay. Susan Walker was never meant to live forever.”
The woman was insane. How had she hidden this craziness for so long?
“Susan never existed, but Becky Sue Morris...Becky Sue existed—and she’ll keep existing. Becky Sue is going to wire the money to her accounts. She’s going to take all the jewelry. Take everything she can.” She swiped her tongue over her bottom lip and glanced back at the window. “Becky Sue...knows how to survive. How to wire a bomb. How to put a price on someone’s head so they get taken out.” Her breath heaved. “She le
arned early how to do all of those things.”
And she learned how to blend in and become someone else. Juliana stared at the gun and realized she didn’t have a choice. Susan or Becky Sue or whoever the hell the woman really was—she wasn’t going to let her escape.
Death wasn’t an option. Juliana wasn’t ready to die. She had too much to live for.
She took another step forward. Susan didn’t even seem to notice that only a few precious feet separated them now.
Can I move fast enough?
She’d have to because there wasn’t another option.
But first, Juliana knew she had to distract the other woman. “He’s going to torture you before he kills you. Just like he did with Ben.”
Susan was sweating. “Shut up.”
“That’s what he does. Sure, he’ll kill me. That’s a given, but he’ll kill you, too. You won’t get the money or the house or anything because you’ll be rotting in the ground with me.”
Another step.
Susan’s eyes were wild. “Shut...up!”
“Why? I’m already dead, right? What more are you going to do to me?”
“I’ll kill your Logan.”
No, you won’t.
“Some men just don’t see the attack coming. They think we’re weak, helpless...all because of some tears and a little blood.”
A little blood? Susan’s shirt had been soaked with her blood.
“Their mistake,” Susan whispered.
“You’re not going to hurt Logan.” Juliana’s fingers had clenched around the knife so hard that her hand ached.
Susan’s head jerked. “You still care about him.” Now she sounded shocked. “You know what he did. I mean, I had to spell it out for you! The guy killed your mother, used you—then walked away.”
Another step, close enough to strike.
“And you still love him.”
Rat-a-tat. The sudden burst of automatic gunfire had Susan’s head whipping toward the window.
“Yes,” Juliana growled. “I still do.” Then she lifted her knife and lunged for Susan. Susan sensed the attack a few seconds too late. She screamed as her head swung back toward Juliana.
The knife shoved into Susan’s left shoulder, and Juliana twisted her body, bending low for another attack.
Susan’s fingers tightened around the gun and—