by Cynthia Eden
“He’s dead,” Curtis said slowly.
She could feel the weight of the gun at her back, but it was just that, a weight. She didn’t need to grab it. Curtis wasn’t threatening her. He was just before her, looking sad, his shoulders hunched.
“I’m sorry,” Curtis told her.
At first, Carly thought she had to be mistaken. She shook her head.
But then he said it again. “I’m sorry.” Now his voice was stronger. “For what you’ve gone through. For all that’s happened to you. One of Quincy’s old gang, he contacted me about a week ago. Told me that news was leaking, saying you and Ethan Barclay had been the ones to kill Q.”
We were.
“I needed to see you for myself. I even…” His jaw clenched. “I followed you around town. Like a freaking stalker. But it won’t be happening again. Q is gone, and we’re done with the past. I’m done with it. You won’t get trouble from me, and I’m going to spread word that the past is dead. I don’t want anyone else coming after you, either.”
Her cheeks flamed red-hot, then seemed to go ice cold. She’d feared this man, but he’d just wanted closure. She couldn’t even blame him for that. “The bomb,” Carly whispered. “Who set it?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe it wasn’t even meant for you. Maybe it was just for Ethan.” His lips hitched into a tired half-smile. “The man has plenty of enemies.”
No, that wasn’t making sense to her. “Dr. Nelson called me. He said the bomb was there, that I had to get out.” That meant the bomb had been set to kill her, right?
“I don’t know any Dr. Nelson,” Curtis said, sounding confused.
The waitress appeared. She put coffee down in front of them both. Carly reached out quickly, her hands curling around the mug and absorbing some desperately needed warmth.
She was being hunted. So was Ethan. Only he’d suspected the main threat was Curtis, and that didn’t seem to be the case.
Curtis leaned toward her. His hand lifted and curled around hers as she clasped the coffee mug. She couldn’t help but tense at his touch. “I want to help you,” Curtis said. “Maybe we should go—”
“Maybe you should take your hand off her.” The order was delivered in a deceptively soft voice. One laced with a quiet and unmistakable fury.
Carly turned her head. Ethan was there. She hadn’t even seen him approach the table, much less enter the diner. She wondered how he’d found her—she didn’t even have a phone on her for him to track. The phone had been smashed to hell and back at Reflections.
Then she got a good look at his face. His expression was cut in hard lines of rage, and his eyes gleamed as he glared at Curtis.
Carly didn’t wait for Curtis to pull his hand away. She jumped to her feet. “It’s not what you think!” She moved to stand in front of Ethan, forcing him to look at her. “He doesn’t want to hurt me. He isn’t…he isn’t like Quincy.”
But Ethan shook his head. “You don’t know that. You just met the guy.”
Okay, excellent point. She glanced over her shoulder at Curtis. He hadn’t moved, but he had paled. A glare from Ethan could make plenty of people pale.
“I don’t want trouble with you,” Curtis said, gazing up at Ethan. “Not with you or her. I-I made peace with my past now, and I’m ready to move on.”
It seemed to Carly that everyone in the diner—the few stragglers there, anyway—they were all quiet and watching the exchange, as if they’d sensed danger when Ethan had first spoken.
“Then get moving,” Ethan ordered him. “Because I don’t want to see you around her again.”
Her shoulders tensed. She didn’t like that wording. Didn’t like the possessive, ownership tone that Ethan had. Yes, they were in a serious situation, but Ethan needed to start backing the hell off that territorial thing.
Curtis rose—slowly. Then his head inclined toward her. “You won’t have any trouble from me.”
A door to her past was finally closing and the relief she felt was pretty heavy.
Curtis walked away.
Silence lingered in his wake.
“Carly…” Ethan gritted out. “Do you have any idea how much you just scared me? It’s a good thing Charles was tailing you.”
Charles. So that was how he’d found her. Ethan had made sure that her movements were monitored, even when he’d been in federal custody. She turned to fully face him. Carly tilted her head back to better look up at him. “I get that you worry about me.”
“Worry doesn’t even come close—”
“I worry about you, too. Worry so much that I promised Curtis a sit-down if he’d just drop the charges against you.”
Shock flashed across Ethan’s face.
“You’re welcome,” she muttered. Then she glanced down at the table. Curtis had tossed some cash near the mugs of coffee. Great. She could slink out of that place and go crash. Because after her night and her morning—she desperately needed to crash.
She strode for the door. When she stepped outside, she wasn’t particularly surprised to see Agent Monroe standing there. Seemed right.
He lifted his brows and held out his hand.
Crap.
Her step quickened as she headed toward him. “Are you going to lock me up for this?”
“So far, only you, Ethan, and I know what you did…”
She put the gun in his hand. He inclined his head. Then he glanced over her shoulder, at Ethan. Carly had been aware of Ethan following close behind her. “Put this in the ‘I Owe Victor’ column,” the agent ordered. “And make damn sure you’re paying that debt.”
Ethan always paid his debts. She knew that.
Ethan’s hand slid to the small of her back. He urged her toward the car parked near the curb—the gleaming car and Charles. Well, at least the gang was all back together. And what a twisted, battered gang it was. She took a step, then stopped. Her gaze slid back to Victor. “Do you have any idea where Keith Nelson is right now?”
Victor shook his head.
“He called me.” Her smashed phone had been collected by the FBI at Reflections. What was left of Reflections. “He knew I was inside Reflections so he had to be close by, watching me.”
“I think so…”
“He knows who set the bomb.”
“Finding him is a top goal for me, I assure you.”
Ethan’s hand moved to curl around her waist. “Stopping the bomber is a top goal for me,” Ethan said.
Ethan and Carly climbed into the car. Through the window, she saw Victor watching them as they pulled away.
The car cut through the city, and the silence in that vehicle was far too thick and heavy. Finally, when that silence was about to shatter her nerves, she glanced at Ethan.
His gaze was on her. She knew it had been, all along.
“I don’t want you taking any risks for me,” Ethan said.
Carly rubbed her sweaty palms against her legs. “And I don’t want you controlling me.”
Surprise flickered in his eyes.
She laughed. “Do you even realize you do it? Or are you so used to giving orders that you think it’s normal? It’s not. I get that we’ve got a dangerous enemy out there. I get that things are screwed up and scary, but…” This needed to be said. “You don’t control me, Ethan. If I want to help you, I will. If I want to face my own demons, I will. You won’t stop me.”
His gaze slid away from her. “I don’t want to control you.”
Liar, liar.
“I just want you safe. When I realized you were gone with Curtis, I was afraid you’d be dead—no, I was afraid you’d kill him, and then I wouldn’t be able to help you.”
She inched closer to him. Finally, she felt as if all of the walls had been pushed down between them. “Why, Ethan?” Time for brutal honesty. “Were you worried you wouldn’t be able to make that body disappear for me this time?”
He flinched.
Carly reached out and threaded her fingers with his. “I should have gone to
the police years ago. Right after Quincy died. I should have told them everything. I was defending myself. I wouldn’t have gone to jail.” But hiding the body, covering up the act…those were crimes that she could be sentenced for committing.
Ethan shook his head. “I didn’t make the body disappear because of the cops. I can handle them. I did it because I knew that if Quincy’s allies found out what we’d done, they’d come after you. Having his body vanish gave them doubt. It protected you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do,” he said, voice deepening. “Just protect you.”
But he couldn’t protect her from everything, just as she couldn’t protect him.
It wasn’t just about them, though. Not anymore. “We need to find Nelson.” He was the key they needed.
Ethan’s fingers squeezed hers, and he nodded.
***
Charles took them back to Carly’s place. He opened the door for her, and his face had its usual stoic expression. During their talk in the back seat, Ethan had kept the security screen in place, but she suspected that Charles was aware of her secrets. He was Ethan’s trusted guard—how could he not know?
“So you had my back,” Carly asked Charles, “when I went off with Curtis?” She’d never even seen him tailing her.
Charles inclined his head. His eyes were a warm brown, and they seemed to soften as he stared at her.
“Thank you,” Carly told him.
“Just doing my job.”
Ethan had come around the car and was heading her way.
“Is your job protecting me?” Carly asked Charles. “I thought it was protecting Ethan.”
“Things aren’t always what they seem,” Charles murmured.
A shiver slid down her spine. Then Ethan took her arm and they headed inside her building. She and Ethan didn’t speak again, not until they were right in front of her door. Then she stopped him and asked, “Is it safe for me to trust Charles?”
Ethan laughed. “Is this question because my last bodyguard turned out to be a psycho killer who gave me all my lovely scars?”
She just stared at him.
He smiled. “There’s this really good detective in D.C. Her name is Faith Chestang. She’s the one who recommended Charles to me. He’s her cousin.”
He’d hired a cop’s cousin? Didn’t he think that was a bit…risky?
At her expression, Ethan laughed again. “Oh, baby, of course, I know he’s an undercover FBI agent. Seriously, how could I not?”
Her jaw dropped.
“But who better to watch my ass? And yours? Especially with trouble closing in around you. Besides…” He rolled back his shoulders. “I think Charles is softening toward me. He’d better watch it, or the guy may even start to like me.”
“He’s FBI…” And they’d just talked about disposing of a body while the guy had been driving the car. To think, Ethan had once been worried about listening devices at her place. Now he didn’t seem to care at all what the FBI learned. What is happening here?
“Don’t worry,” Ethan assured her. “I’ve got this covered.”
She doubted it.
Ethan’s hand lifted and his knuckles skimmed over her jaw. “You know, we could walk away right now. Me and you. I could make us both vanish. We could go to some tropical island. Get naked. And let the rest of the world fall away.”
He wasn’t serious. Wait, was he? Because that offer sounded pretty good to her. With her body aching and fear still surrounding her like a cloak, the idea of going someplace else, of just slipping away, it sure sounded like a prime option. Too tempting.
Ethan bent toward her. “We can do it,” he said. “Just say the word.”
Instead of speaking, she pushed up on her toes and her lips pressed to his. It was a quick kiss. Hot and fast. “Thank you for saving me at Reflections.”
He blinked. His golden eyes seemed to smolder.
“I didn’t miss that whole protecting-me-with-your-body routine,” she said softly and then she kissed him again. “But how about you don’t do that again? Because I rather like it when you’re alive and safe, too.”
He licked her lower lip. “Can’t make a promise like that. I’d take any damn wound, for you.”
That scared her. Parts of Ethan—he could scare her straight to her soul. “And don’t attack again,” she said.
He stilled.
“The way you went after Curtis…it was like something had switched off inside of you.” For an instant, he’d lost control. She knew it. An uncontrolled Ethan was a dangerous thing.
“I thought he’d tried to kill you.” His voice roughened as he added, “And when I stared in his eyes, for just a minute, I was back in that shitty room, looking up at Quincy and waiting for the SOB to kill me. It all came back to me. The hate, the fear, the rage. Something…shit, you’re right, something snapped in me.” His forehead pressed to hers. “Because I could never stand it if someone hurt you that way again. It fucking gutted us both before.”
Yes, it had.
But they were different now. Stronger. They’d survived the fire. Survived hell. They could do it again.
“I don’t trust Curtis,” Ethan said. “Not for an instant, and I’m hoping like hell that Charles and his FBI buddies are tearing apart Curtis’s life right now. Because I’m not the only one with skeletons hiding in my closet.”
No, she didn’t think that he was. She knew now—thanks to bitter, painful experience—that everyone carried around skeletons. Some folks were just better at hiding them.
Worry still pushed at her. “Is it even safe to have this conversation out here?” He’d been so worried about bugs before—
“I’m handling the FBI.”
She really wanted to know more. But that more could happen inside her place, not in the hallway. Her closest neighbor was gone, but other folks were still nearby. She pushed open the door to her place. She flipped on the lights and—
“Help…me…”
Blood was on her floor. Blood and Keith Nelson’s wounded body. He was slumped near her sofa.
“Help…” He gasped once more.
Ethan and Carly ran toward him. But as soon as Keith saw Ethan, he let out a long, horror-filled scream. “No! Stay a-away!”
Ethan just kept going forward. Keith swung at him, fighting hard, but Ethan grabbed his arms and held tightly. “Calm the hell down! I want to help you!” He glanced over at Carly. “Go get Charles. He’ll have backup here faster than either of us will.”
Because help always came faster for the FBI?
She whirled for the door.
“No!” Keith yelled. “Don’t leave me…with him!”
His voice was so desperate that Carly glanced back over her shoulder. Keith appeared utterly terrified. He was thrashing around, twisting and jerking. He was already bleeding so much—Keith had to calm down or his injuries would just be far worse.
“If you leave me…” Keith cried. “He’ll…finish…Kill me…”
“No,” Carly said. “You’re wrong!” Ethan hadn’t been the one to attack Keith.
But Keith was frantic, so wild. Twisting and screaming and mumbling about Ethan killing him.
She stared at him, lost, but in the next moment, Keith collapsed. His eyes sagged closed, and he fell back against the carpet. No more accusations. No more fear.
“Is he dead?” Carly asked. He barely seemed to be breathing.
“Not yet,” Ethan growled. “Go! Get him help!”
She ran as fast as she could. In moments, she was flying out of her building, and, sure enough, Charles was there, waiting near the curb. When he saw her, he immediately leapt forward. “Call for backup!” she yelled at him.
She saw his eyelids flicker. “Back-up?” Charles asked carefully, then shook his head. “You want more of Ethan’s men—”
“I want an ambulance! And if you want the FBI here, get them, too! Keith Nelson is bleeding out on my living room floor!”
He yanked out his phone.
She didn’t
stop to see who he called. She rushed back inside. Keith needed help. The guy had to survive. He’d seen the man who was after her and Ethan. He knew the bomber’s identity.
And despite what Keith had said…the bad guy wasn’t Ethan!
The real attacker was out there. They just had to find him.
She raced back to her room. Her door was still ajar. But when she got inside…
Keith was on the floor. Blood was all around him.
But Ethan—Ethan was gone.
Chapter Eight
“According to Keith Nelson…” Victor said, his voice mild, “he doesn’t remember who attacked him. He doesn’t remember calling you and warning you about the bomb. Hell, the last thing the guy can clearly remember is Ethan Barclay, telling him that if he saw Keith again, then the doc would be getting an ass kicking.”
Carly glanced toward Keith’s hospital room. She’d ridden over with him in the ambulance, and when the doctors had taken him back, she’d waited with Charles.
Charles…who was no longer pretending to be hired muscle for Ethan.
“Is that why he freaked out when he saw Ethan?” Carly asked. “Because he woke up and thought Ethan had kicked his ass?”
Victor shrugged. “Can’t say for sure. It would certainly help matters out if Ethan were here to answer that question for me.”
The suspicion in his voice just made her even angrier. “There’s no way Ethan attacked Keith! Ethan and I were together nearly the whole time and—”
“Why did he vanish, Carly?” Charles asked her softly.
Victor slanted a quick glance his way.
“Why did he abandon you?” Charles pressed. “I thought he actually cared about you. I bought into that act.”
Maybe Ethan was right. Maybe Charles had been softening toward him.
“Then he threw you to the wolves.”
Her spine stiffened. “He knew the FBI was about to swarm. The victim was yelling that Ethan was to blame. Maybe he just didn’t want to get tossed back into interrogation again.”
Charles nodded. “Right. So he abandoned you.”
“No! He didn’t!” She didn’t know what the hell had happened. Going back to her home, seeing that Ethan was gone…it made no sense to her.