by Cynthia Eden
Yes, Scarlett believed that Ava would have become just another target that night. “You think your father...you think he was trying to antagonize the shooter so he wouldn’t see Ava? To keep the attackers focused just on him?”
Again, Grant nodded. “But his words are a clue, too. I think he knew the shooters. Ava didn’t see their faces, but my dad did. He knew them. He knew exactly what they wanted.” Grant’s breath was a rough sigh. “They shot him, so we know they didn’t get what they wanted from him.” His voice lower, Grant added, “At least I hope the SOBs didn’t get it. They ransacked the place, so we know they were searching hard for whatever it was they wanted that night.”
Scarlett’s gaze slid over the strong planes and angles of his face. “You came home then. You and your brothers.”
“Ava was seventeen. We were her only family. Coming home, taking care of her—I owed her that. She was having nightmares, seeing attackers everywhere. She needed me.” He lifted one shoulder. “I told my brothers that I would take care of things, but they came home, too. One at a time, they came, and we all found ourselves back in a city that we’d never been able to forget.”
“You won’t stop hunting for their killers.”
“The police gave up. That’s why we started digging on our own.” Now a mocking smile lifted his lips. “We discovered that we were pretty good at hunting in the darkness.”
“And you opened your PI firm.”
“Take a group of ex-soldiers and put ’em together...we were bound to find some trouble.”
The sun had risen higher into the sky. “The McGuire brothers were always good at finding trouble.”
Grant laughed then, and the sound was so unexpected that Scarlett stilled. He had a deep, rumbling laugh, one that had always made her want to smile when she heard it.
But she hadn’t heard his laugh in ten years.
“We all have our talents,” he murmured.
Her heart ached then, because she thought of what could have been. Hopes she’d had so long ago.
She gave him a smile. Knew it would be both wistful and sad. “I think it’s time for me to go.” She wasn’t just talking about leaving the ranch.
Scarlett turned away, but before she could take more than a few steps, he caught her hand.
“You got me through hell.”
She didn’t understand, and she shook her head.
His hand tightened around hers. “When the men next to me were dying, when I was sure the missions were unwinnable, when I couldn’t even remember what it was like not to smell blood and death, you were the thing that kept me going.”
“Grant—”
“What happens when you’re afraid that you’ll destroy the one thing you want most in the world?”
The question had her lips parting. “What are you talking about?” His touch seemed to burn her.
He glanced down at her hand, held so securely within his. “Are you going to pretend that you never saw it? When you saw into me, like no one else? The first time I looked into your eyes, I realized that you knew me...the real me.”
She wanted to back away. Because she wanted to, she stepped closer to him.
“You knew that I liked the battles. The danger.”
“The adrenaline,” Scarlett whispered.
But he shook his head. “The first mission I was on...I realized I had a talent for what I was doing. Killing shouldn’t be a talent, but it was for me. I excelled in the field. My senior officers noticed and word got passed along that I was the go-to for the most dangerous missions.”
She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say.
His fingers slid up her wrist, trailing lightly over her racing pulse. “I was a hunter, Scarlett, straight to my soul. I fit in those battles. And with every mission, I know you saw what was happening to me.”
She looked away from him.
“You did see it. You could always see everything about me.”
Her lips pressed together. Then, because there should be no lies, she said, “Yes,” and her voice was sad. But she had seen it. He’d stopped being the carefree boy. Become more intense. Darker.
Harder.
His edge had started to unnerve her.
“I could feel myself changing, and I didn’t know how to stop. You—you were the bright spot for me. When I was with you, I wanted to be different. But I’d committed to another tour, one that was going to take me into the worst battle of my life. And I was afraid of who I’d be when I came back. I was afraid that I wasn’t going to be the man you wanted anymore.” His voice was ragged when he admitted, “I was afraid that I was becoming a monster.”
“Grant, no.” She grabbed his shoulders. “You were a hero. You saved lives!”
“I took lives, baby. And I think about them. Every. Single. One. I lost part of myself with those kills, and I don’t think I’ll ever be the same.” His fingers slid from hers. “I didn’t think you’d want who I was becoming.”
She’d never realized Grant was the one who had so many doubts. Not strong, confident Grant.
“When I was at my weakest, when the blood was on the ground all around me, I thought of you. Only you. You were the one who got me out. Who gave me the strength to fight. To move. To damn well crawl if I had to do it.” He leaned forward, and his forehead pressed to hers. “Because I wanted to see you again.”
Then he’d come home...he’d come to look for her...and found Ian.
Life can be full of so many mistakes.
And...second chances?
Why should she be the one who was afraid this time? Why not take what she wanted so desperately? Take the chance that was right in front of her?
“You walked into my office days ago, and you were terrified. You know what I was?”
She had no clue.
“Glad to see you.”
Now it was her turn to laugh.
“I had...followed you.”
Her laughter faded away at his confession.
“The first restaurant was by chance. The second...I saw you go in, so I went there, too.” Red stained his cheeks. “I wanted to see you, but you were engaged. You had a good life waiting, and I knew I should stay away from you. You, of all people, deserved to be happy.”
But she hadn’t been happy. Eric had been a good man, a good friend. But...
But the chemistry hadn’t been there between them. She’d just never been able to feel the same for him.
The way I feel for Grant.
“I’m not the same man I was before. I don’t want to be the same.”
Her heart raced in her chest. “What do you want from me?”
“Everything.” He said it so simply. So darkly. “And what do you want from me?”
Everything.
She glanced away from him.
Grant’s phone rang then, the cry interrupting the tense silence that had fallen between them.
“Someone has bad timing,” he growled. He yanked out his cell. Frowned at the screen. “Mac?”
“Mac” had to be Mackenzie McGuire. Mac had once been the wildest of the McGuire brothers, or at least, that had been the word from the women in town. Then he’d joined Delta Force and become both wild and deadly.
The furrow deepened between Grant’s brows as he peered down at his phone. “He was doing some research for me on Ian Lake.”
Ian?
He put the phone to his ears. “Mac? Look, they made an arrest last night—”
She didn’t hear Mac’s retort, but there was no missing the faint surprise that flickered over Grant’s face. “I see.” His voice was grim. “Thanks, man. I appreciate you being so thorough on this.”
Scarlett rubbed her arms. She hadn’t thought of Ian in years. He’d been a mistake. A guy who seemed too ch
arming, but who’d been just hiding his true nature behind a facade. Grant had said that she could see into him, and maybe she had been able to do that.
But not with Ian. Ian had tricked her, at first.
“You flying back home?” Grant asked his brother.
Home. Her gaze slid around the ranch. Happiness and sorrow. They all wrapped together at that place.
“Good. I think...I think Ava could use some time with you.”
Scarlett remembered that, years before, Ava had always followed Mac around. The two had been so close, often sharing secrets and laughter.
Ava doesn’t laugh now.
The whole family was wounded, and Scarlett could see their pain—in their eyes, on their faces. When would they heal?
“Be safe,” Grant told him. Then he shoved the phone back into his pocket. She saw the way he was studying her, as if he were trying to figure out how to break some bad news to her.
Scarlett sighed. She didn’t want the man walking on eggshells around her. “Just spit it out, Grant.”
The darkness lightened in his eyes. “Ian Lake wasn’t behind the attacks on you.”
“Well, um, that would be due to the fact that Justin Turner was the one the cops arrested last night.”
“Ian Lake is dead.”
Now she understood his surprise. “What happened?”
“He was killed in prison. Seems that he’d been arrested for assaulting his girlfriend. Before his family could help him to buy his way out of that mess—the way Mac said they’d apparently done in the past—he got into a fight with his cell mate. I guess this time he picked someone too big for him to shove around.”
Her heartbeat quickened. “Mac is sure of this?”
“He checked the case files himself, questioned the officers who found Ian in that cell. He even went to the cemetery.”
Thanks for being so thorough. Yes, that was Mac.
“He talked to a few other of Ian’s ex’s up there. Seems that you weren’t the only girl who saw Ian’s dark side.” Grant lifted his hand, brushed her cheek.
“He hid it, at first, but I could see the cracks beneath his mask. After a while I finally saw him for what he was.” And she’d left him. The cops hadn’t believed her, not with Ian’s buddy being more than willing to back up his story, but...
I took pictures of my injuries. I sent those pictures to Ian’s parents. I wanted them to know exactly what their son was capable of doing. Scarlett had even included a note with those photos. Simple. Right to the point. Stop him.
It seemed they hadn’t. They’d just covered up his crimes over the years.
“What do you see,” Grant asked her, “when you look at me? Can you see beneath the cracks in my mask?”
She shook her head as his hand slid down to her shoulder. “Is that what this is about? You think you’re someone like Ian? Because you’ve been in battle and you’ve had to hurt other people?” She wanted to shake the man. “Yes, Grant, I see the danger in you. I always have. But you’re a soldier. You’re a protector. You’re not a killer, and I have never been afraid of you.”
Time to clear the air. No more fears from the past. No more longing for what couldn’t be. “You want another chance with me? Not just sex, right?”
His lips quirked a bit. “Well, the sex is a fine bonus.”
It was indeed. She cleared her throat. “Then let’s do this. Me and you. We’ll start over. Maybe we’ll crash and burn, but maybe...maybe there can be a better ending for us this time.”
She wasn’t talking about forever. She was talking about one step at a time.
She offered him her hand. “Deal?”
His fingers closed around hers. “Deal.”
* * *
THEY WERE LEAVING the ranch. Finally. That place was close to impenetrable, and after all the digging he’d done on McGuire’s family, he knew why.
Trying to make sure you’re safe? Not going to happen. No one could be safe all the time.
Just as no one could hide all the time. Grant and Scarlett were heading back to town. A meeting with the DA. The charges against Scarlett would be dismissed. It was just a matter of paperwork and time, and then she’d be a free woman.
Scarlett would think that she’d won. That she and Grant could be together.
No, Scarlett, that won’t happen.
Grant McGuire was going to be a problem. He’d have to get him out of the picture in order to move in on Scarlett. Otherwise, the fool would just get in his way.
But that was okay, because eliminating Grant would serve to make Scarlett suffer all the more before her death.
Maybe she thought no one knew just how she felt about her military hero. He knew. He knew so much about her and Grant.
You are his weakness. And he is yours.
It was time to exploit those weaknesses.
He waited until they passed him in Grant’s SUV. Then he pulled out behind them. The vehicle wasn’t registered to him. Unlike Justin, he hadn’t grabbed the first convenient ride he’d seen. He’d planned ahead. He always did.
The vehicle accelerated as he took off after his prey, and he smiled.
* * *
“WE SHOULD BE at the meeting with the DA by nine,” Scarlett said. “That was the time Pierce gave me.”
Grant shot a quick glance toward Scarlett. “After that...?”
“I’ll be free.”
He didn’t want to crush her hope, but he knew the wheels of justice ground a lot slower than that. “The steps will start. Your name will be cleared soon.”
He wondered how much information Shayne had been able to get out of Justin. Had the guy confessed during the long hours of the night?
“Do you think I’ll be able to get my job back?”
“You will.” He’d see to it.
His gaze slid back to the road. It stretched before him, lined with a few cars. Some of the vehicles vanished as they took the sharp curve up ahead.
A glance in his rearview mirror showed him a black SUV was coming up fast behind him. The guy needed to slow down. Everyone in that area knew how tricky the curve on 45 was. A few years back, some teenagers had been coming home from their prom, drunk on life and the booze they’d put into their punch bowl. They’d hit that curve too fast and tumbled into the ravine below.
Only one person had walked away from that accident.
But the SUV was still gaining on him. Still coming up too fast.
Grant’s eyes narrowed as his instincts kicked into high gear. This isn’t right.
“Grant?” Scarlett seemed to sense his concern. “Grant, what’s happening?”
He wasn’t going to speed ahead and rush into that curve. Not as treacherous as that spot was. It’s the perfect place to send someone careening over the edge.
Instead of accelerating, he slowed.
Behind him, the SVU lurched forward.
The other lane was empty, so Grant did a fast spin, turning their vehicle around and heading back toward the ranch.
If that was just some jerk hot-rodding on the road, he’d go straight past Grant now. If it wasn’t some fool driving too fast, if it was someone intent on harm...
We’re not at the curve.
They were heading down, about to pass right by that SUV.
“What’s happening?” Scarlett demanded, her voice sharp. “I thought we were going to meet the DA.”
They were.
That black SUV was still hurtling straight ahead. The windows were all darkly tinted, and Grant couldn’t make out the driver at all.
The two vehicles were just about to pass one another when the SUV careened into Grant’s side, slamming straight toward the driver’s door.
The hit was hard, fast, brutal. Metal crunched, glass shat
tered and the air bags deployed in a sea of white.
Grant held tight to the wheel as he swerved to the right. His vehicle tipped off the side of the road.
The black SUV’s engine roared as it raced away.
Grant shoved at the airbag. “Scarlett!” His left side throbbed and burned, and glass littered the area around him. No, the glass was on him, too.
“I’m okay.” Her hand reached out for his. Held tight. “I’m okay, Grant! Are you?”
His left side felt wet, and the throbbing grew worse. He tried to pull away from the door, and felt the metal poking into him.
Grant turned his head and looked down the road. The black SUV had left a trail of broken glass in its wake, but the other vehicle was gone now, vanished around the curve.
The driver had sideswiped them, trying to give maximum injury to Grant’s side of the vehicle. The SOB had succeeded.
“Call an ambulance,” Grant told her.
Her hand tightened on his. “Grant?” Fear laced her voice.
He locked his jaw. He’d been shot before, twice, and he knew that he could get through this. He would get through this. The damn air bag was still in his way, so he couldn’t see just how deep his injury was. He needed to see, to gauge how much damage had truly been done.
His shirt was already soaked with his blood.
He heard Scarlett talking then, but her voice seemed so far away. Then there was the rush of tires. Footsteps ran toward him.
“Buddy, buddy, are you okay?” a man’s voice demanded. The guy tried to open Grant’s door.
“Don’t!” he barked, pain heavy in that one word.
“Grant.” Now Scarlett’s hand was on his shoulder. He tried to focus on her.
“Metal...from the door...in me.” He could feel it. If they took that metal out, he might bleed even more. If it had hit something vital, and it sure seemed as if it might have, he could bleed out right in front of her. “Get...help...”
“Help’s coming,” she told him, her voice tight. “It’s on the way.” Her fingers still held his. She should get out of the vehicle. She’d be safer away from him then. What if the SUV came back? Grant couldn’t protect her.
There were more voices, rising and falling. Women, men. Other drivers who were rushing over to try and assist. But they couldn’t help him.