Confessions

by Cynthia Eden

  “I didn’t realize just how...close you two were.” Pierce’s gaze darted between Grant and Scarlett. “If I had, then I would’ve recommended distance from the beginning. Immediately rushing off with an old lover doesn’t look good, no matter how you spin it.”

  “I’m her friend,” Grant said, stretching the word for emphasis.

  Pierce let his doubt show. “Are you? Is that really what you want to call it?”

  Grant growled.

  But Pierce wasn’t done. “Fine. Whatever. Semantics. If you truly are her friend, then give her some distance. You’ve helped enormously on this case already. You’ve been a good friend. Now give her some space. Let’s see what move the prosecutor makes next. Then we can reevaluate.”

  Scarlett crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you think we can truly get this case dismissed?”

  Pierce nodded. “You have a rock-solid alibi. The prosecutor is furious right now, but she’s going to have to back down. It’s only a matter of time.”

  Hope began to burn brighter inside Scarlett.

  Pierce walked toward her. He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed. “Everything is okay now.”

  She wanted to believe that.

  “You two should leave separately,” Pierce directed with a slow nod. “We have to stop the suspicion from mounting about the two of you right away—”

  “The suspicion?” Scarlett interrupted.

  His lips thinned. “You have an alibi now. Grant here doesn’t. The prosecutor may try to spin this as a case where your lover—”

  “He’s not!” Scarlett declared instantly. Grant hadn’t been her lover in a very long time.

  “—killed your fiancé in a jealous rage.”

  Those words stole her breath. “Grant wasn’t jealous. We’d had no contact in years.”

  Pierce started to speak, then paused. He still held her shoulders as he glanced over at Grant. “I need to speak privately with my client. Don’t worry, I’ll see that she gets home safely.” It was an obvious dismissal.

  But Grant didn’t leave. His eyes locked on Scarlett and he headed toward her, while Pierce nervously backed away.

  At first, she almost thought that Grant would pull her into his arms. That he would hold her tightly.

  Then she saw the fury in his gaze. All the McGuires had those same green eyes, but not all their eyes appeared to glow with rage when they were mad. Only Grant seemed to manage that.

  “Grant...”

  “We will be talking soon, Scarlett. This isn’t over.”

  A promise. Or a threat?

  He strode from the room, tension evident in every line of his hard body.

  Neither she nor Pierce spoke until the interrogation room door closed behind Grant. Her heartbeat kept racing.

  “Well...” Pierce exhaled heavily. “He is as...intense as they say.”

  Understatement. He was more than intense.

  Pierce’s hand brushed her arm again. “I need you to be careful.”

  Not again with this. “I’m not involved with Grant! He’s not my lover—”

  Pierce shook his head. “Louis was clear on that. You two haven’t been involved in years, but...” His head came closer to hers. “He’s been following you. Louis said he caught sight of Grant McGuire watching you several times.”

  What? That didn’t make any sense.

  “Louis told Eric Turner about the guy...about him appearing at restaurants you were at. About even seeing him outside your school.”

  Impossible. Grant wouldn’t...wouldn’t stalk her.

  “And when Louis found out about the pregnancy...”

  Her lips pressed into a tight line.

  “He told Eric about that, too. Louis swears that Eric was planning to confront Grant. To find out what the hell was really happening.”

  Nothing was happening.

  When Pierce’s fingers curled under her chin, she realized she was staring down at the floor. He tilted her head up, forcing her to look into his eyes. “I’m trying to get McGuire to stay away,” he told her, “because I’m worried.”

  Worried they might cause suspicion.

  “You didn’t kill Eric Turner, but someone did...and Grant McGuire knows how to kill. He’s done it before, and I think, if he were pushed hard enough, he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.”

  She shook her head. “Grant was a soldier, he wasn’t—”

  “He was black ops. I tried to look into his military records, and I got shut down, fast. The man has secrets, and I think we’re both better off not knowing them.” Her lawyer’s hand fell away. “Just as I think you’re better off staying away from him.”

  All of this was just...wrong. “Grant helped me.” He’d been the one she turned to when she’d been at her most desperate. “He’d never hurt me.”

  “Are you so sure about that? Because when he left here, there sure seemed to be a whole lot of rage riding that man.”

  A shiver skated down her spine. She’d been wrong about a lover once before, a long time ago. But, no, she couldn’t be wrong about Grant. He wouldn’t hurt me.

  “We’re getting these charges dropped. We will prove your innocence.” Pierce’s solemn stare held hers. “But for your own safety, stay away from Grant McGuire, okay? Just until we find out more.”

  But she knew what he was really saying. Stay away...until we find out if he killed Eric Turner.

  The chill she felt sank all the way into her bones.

  * * *

  NO, NO, NO!

  He watched as Scarlett left the station. The cops let her just waltz right out the front door. All because that idiot Louis East had simply handed over his files to them.

  And now the police were starting to think that Scarlett was innocent. A victim.

  They were so blind. Scarlett had never been a victim.

  Reporters were shouting questions at her as she walked down the station’s steps, but she ignored them and ducked into a cab, which raced away. The swarm turned back toward the cops—toward Detective Shayne Townsend. They were eager for more details. Knowing reporters, the more scandalous or grisly the story, the better. If it bleeds, it leads. Yes, he knew the old motto.

  There was plenty of blood soaking this murder case.

  His gaze slid around the police station. None of the journalists were paying him any attention, not when Townsend was up there, playing to the cameras. While they were all distracted, he needed to get—

  Louis.

  He saw the man sliding out of the shadows near the right side of the police station. Louis was doing his best to avoid that throng of reporters.

  They don’t see you, but I do.

  His head tilted as he studied Louis East. The man had made too many revelations. And if he was left loose...hell, he could still be holding tight to some secrets. Secrets he’d spill at the wrong time.

  So he followed Louis through the dark streets and the narrow alleys. The PI didn’t bother with a cab. He was intent on slipping away into the night.

  But I won’t lose you.

  Then Louis rounded a corner.

  He followed close behind and—

  “You think you can sneak up on me?” Louis lunged for him. Ah, so the PI wasn’t as clueless as he seemed.

  He dodged the blow and came up fast. Not with a punch of his own, but with a hard stab of his knife.

  The knife sank into Louis’s side.

  “Yes,” he said simply, as the PI’s eyes widened in shock and pain. “I think I can.”

  * * *

  HER LITTLE CONDO was dark. Pitch-black. Scarlett rushed around inside, turning on all the lights as quickly as she could because she hated that enveloping darkness. Oddly, the place felt cold, when it was eighty degrees outside.
No, it wasn’t just her home that was cold. She still felt cold.

  She couldn’t seem to shake the bone-deep chill.

  The den was now lit up, the soft lights glowing. She hurried into her bedroom. Walked into the darkness and quickly flipped up the light switch.

  Then she screamed when she saw the man in there. The man who’d been waiting in the dark.

  “Scarlett...”

  Her hand had grabbed the doorframe in a death grip.

  Grant shook his head as he eased toward her. “It’s all right. It’s just me.”

  That was the problem.

  He’s in my bedroom.

  “You shouldn’t be here. Pierce said—” Too much.

  “I came up the fire escape. Don’t worry, none of your neighbors saw me. I know how to get in a place without being spotted. Ranger training.”

  She glanced toward her bedroom window. It was open—open to the fire escape, which led to the street below. That would explain why he was in her room, but...

  “Why are you here at all?”

  His gaze held hers. A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I think you know.”

  She didn’t want to talk about this. She wanted to talk about anything but this. “Grant...”

  “Was Louis lying?”

  “No.” Her voice was so soft. He was close enough to touch her now, but he didn’t.

  “You were pregnant...with my baby?”

  This time, she didn’t speak. Scarlett nodded.

  “You never told me!” It was a thundering accusation.

  She flinched.

  “Ten years...ten years...and you never told me?” He caught her arms then, pulling her up against him in a grip that was too tight. “Why?”

  “Because you were gone.” Her quiet voice was a direct contrast to the lethal fury of his. “You were gone and the baby was gone, and there was no point in making you—in making you hurt the way I did.” She’d grieved enough for them both.

  “Scarlett...”

  “Something went wrong. It wasn’t meant to be,” she whispered. “That’s what the doctor told me when I lost the baby. It was early, around eight weeks.” As if being “early” had helped. The doctor had seemed to think it would, but he’d been wrong. She sucked in a deep breath and tried to keep her voice steady as she said, “It...happens. More than you probably think.” Another line from the doctor, words that had been branded in her memory. “Things just...go wrong.”

  But to lose Grant, then the baby...the baby she’d discovered so soon after she’d said goodbye to Grant...

  I lost them both, too close together. I felt like I was losing everything back then.

  He never eased his hold on her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You were gone...”

  “Ten. Years.”

  Right. She could have told him at some point. “Why? There wasn’t anything you could do. The baby was gone. You and I—we were over.”

  “Were we?”

  Her gaze searched his. “You walked away, remember?”

  His jaw hardened. “And when I came back, less than a year later, you were with someone else.”

  Now she was the one reeling in shock. She’d been at college in Georgia then. How would he have known about her and Ian? Ian... She tried never to think of him.

  “I heard you were going to marry that one, too,” Grant snarled. “But that didn’t work, did it?”

  “I was never going to marry Ian.” She’d tried too hard to get away from him. Ian and his charm. He’d pulled her in, seemed to sense how broken she’d felt.

  And I was so blind I almost didn’t see him for what he was.

  “That’s not what he told me, not when I came to your dorm room and found him waiting inside.”

  “Wait, you came to the university?”

  He freed her and stepped back. Put some fast distance between them. “I needed to see you. But he told me that you two were getting married. It had only been a year, Scarlett. One damn year, and you’d already moved on. Already replaced me.” His laughter was bitter. “So much for love.”

  “No.” The one word held her own fury. “You don’t get to say that to me.” She’d been through her own hell over the years and she’d come through it, stronger. She’d had to be stronger. “I wasn’t the one who left you. I was the one there on that hot summer day, offering you everything I had.” It hadn’t been enough. She’d never been enough for him. “Ian was lying to you. Turned out he did that. A lot. We were dating. I was already trying to pull away. I had no plans to marry him.” Not when she still closed her eyes at night and saw Grant.

  And I see you to this day.

  “He never told me that you came to my dorm.” But Ian had been so good at his deceptions. His little games. “Why...why were you there?”

  “Because I needed you.” Bitterness turned his voice into a low rasp. “That’s the thing, no matter how much time passes, no matter what happens in my life...I need you.”

  Her pulse was racing.

  “I would have loved the baby.”

  She had to blink because moisture filled her eyes. “I know.”

  “If he’d...if she’d...if the baby had made it, would you have ever told me?”

  The accusation hurt. “Yes.” Her hands had fisted at her sides.

  Grant’s head cocked as he studied her. “I used to know you so well. I thought, despite everything, that I still did. But when I look at you now, I can’t tell for certain if you’re lying to me or not.”

  “You can’t say that to me.” But he just had. “You’re the one who’s been following me.” According to Louis. “You’re the one—”

  He was in front of her in an instant. She retreated, and her back hit the wall. His hands came up, not touching her, but caging her as his palms flattened on the wall. “I haven’t followed you.”

  “East said you had. That you’d been at the same restaurants...”

  A snarl broke from Grant. “Coincidence. I looked you up twice and saw you with Eric while I was out.”

  “My school—”

  “I was working a case.” Grant’s voice was flat. “I wasn’t following you.” His eyes narrowed. “Is that what you’re thinking? That I’ve been following you? Stalking you? You’re the one who came to me, Scarlett. The one who needed me, and I helped you, no questions asked.”

  He had. He’d been there when she needed a friend most. But...he wasn’t a friend.

  He’d always been more.

  He leaned nearer. Their bodies brushed. Their mouths were so close. The anger that had been between them was changing. Shifting. Becoming something else entirely.

  “Knew for years...” His words were a rumble. “Knew I should stay away from you. If I ever got close again, I understood what would happen.”

  She didn’t understand. “What would happen?”

  His eyes were on her mouth. “This.”

  He lowered his head more, closed that last bit of precious distance between them, and kissed her.

  The years fell away in that moment. The fears. The anger. Everything vanished.

  It was just as it had been so long ago. The chemistry. The desire. The white-hot need that electrified her. His lips weren’t hesitant on hers. There was no gentle coaxing. No getting-to-know-you hesitation.

  His mouth locked on hers. His tongue thrust past her lips. He kissed her like a man desperate to taste his lover. Like a man who knew that lover well.

  Because he did.

  Her hands rose and flattened on his chest. She could feel the power beneath her touch—the steely muscles. He’d always been so strong. And he’d always tasted so good.

  She rose onto her toes, trying to get closer to him. How many nights had she dreamed about him? Too many to co
unt.

  His hands weren’t on the wall any longer. They were curling around her hips. Pulling her against the hard, hot cradle of his thighs.

  He wanted her. She could feel the heavy length of his arousal. And despite everything, Scarlett had never stopped wanting him.

  His mouth pulled from hers, but he didn’t let her go. He started kissing a sensual path down her neck. Licking, caressing and making her heartbeat thunder in her chest and drum in her ears.

  There were a million reasons why she should back away from him right then.

  But her hands just rose up and curled around his shoulders to hold him tightly.

  I want this. I need him.

  So when he lifted her and carried her toward the bed, she didn’t say a word to stop him. He lowered her slowly and kissed her again. Only Grant kissed her that way. With such stark desire and a need unchecked by anything.

  She helped him to push up his shirt. When he tossed it aside and the light hit his chest, a soft gasp escaped her.

  There were scars on his skin. From...bullets? A knife attack? Both? The scars were thin, white, old, but they still frightened her. Especially the long one that was so close to his heart.

  “They don’t matter.” His voice was even deeper. “Nothing matters right now but you.” He caught the hem of her top and pulled it over her head.

  Her shirt joined his on the floor.

  Then they were on the bed. He unhooked her bra, put his mouth over her breast. Tasted her. When his tongue touched her, she arched toward him. So eager. So ready to just be with him again. Her fear had disappeared. The past few days, the nightmares—they were gone in that instant.

  There was only desire.

  Soon, there would be only pleasure.

  Everything else could be forgotten, just for a time.

  Her hips pushed against his. She still had on her pants. Her shoes were long gone. He wore jeans. She wanted them off. She couldn’t touch him enough. His skin was so warm. His muscles flexed against her.

  He was kissing her, stroking her skin. His mouth blazed a path down her stomach, and her breath choked out. His fingers slid toward the button of her pants.

  And he stopped.