Broken

by Cynthia Eden

  Or . . . against Eve.

  Then they were out in the hallway. More cops were there. Dean and Victoria were milling around, too. He’d have to get the team together, away from the cops, and find out what they’d all discovered.

  Gabe paused next to Dean. “Use your pull with the FBI,” he muttered, his voice low and only carrying to Eve and Dean. “Get into the interrogation with Johnny.” Because that would be going down soon. “I want to know exactly what that little prick has to say.”

  Dean’s head moved in the slightest of nods.

  Gabe glanced down at Eve. “It’s going to be all right.” He needed her to believe him.

  Eve glanced down at her hand.

  “You can trust me,” he told her.

  “But can you trust me?” she asked him. The pain in her voice tore at his heart. “Because I’m not even sure I trust myself.”

  “YOU CAN’T KEEP me locked up in here!” Johnny Thompson yelled as he yanked on his cuffs. Those bastards had chained him to the table. It was freaking bull. They couldn’t do this to him! “I know my rights!” he shouted toward the closed door. “I want a lawyer! I want a phone call! I want—”

  The door opened. “I want you to calm the hell down.”

  That wasn’t Trey standing in the doorway. It was some blond jerk in a dress shirt—some fool who looked like he’d never worked a day in his life, and he was shadowed by another guy—tall, dark hair, eyes that were freaking ice.

  “Who the hell are you? Where’s Trey?”

  The blond man pulled out a chair and sat across from him. “I’m FBI Agent Avery Granger. I’ll be the one questioning you.”

  The FBI?

  His gaze cut to the other guy. The silent one. “You FBI, too?”

  “Dean Bannon is a . . . consultant on this case,” Avery said smoothly.

  Well, big fucking deal. Johnny leaned forward. “I want the cuffs off.”

  Avery shrugged. “I want answers. You help me, and maybe I’ll help you.”

  He wasn’t helping the bastard at all.

  “Were you at Sand Island today?” Avery asked him.

  Johnny smiled even as his heart thundered in his chest. “Never heard of the place.”

  Avery’s stare didn’t leave his face. “Did you take your uncle’s boat out there, and did you rig Gabe Spencer’s boat to explode?”

  “Gabe Spencer,” he repeated, rubbing his nose. His broken nose. “That jerk needs to get his ass beat.”

  Finally, the dark-haired guy spoke. “And you think you’re the one to do it?”

  Johnny laughed. “Trey should . . . if he had balls. I mean, that Gabe guy comes rolling into town, and he’s obviously fucking Trey’s girl. Shit, if it were me—”

  He broke off because he knew that he’d just made a mistake.

  “If it were you, what?” Avery asked.

  Screw it. He was already in too deep, but there hadn’t been a choice. “I’d teach the bastard a lesson.”

  Dean cocked his head. “The kind of lesson where you make his boat explode?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Avery pushed a manila file across to him, then opened the file and started spreading pictures out before him.

  “Shit!” Johnny’s gaze jerked away from the photos. “What the hell is this?”

  “A dead girl parade,” Dean said. “I mean, that is what you called it the other night, isn’t it? When you were trying to convince your girlfriend that it would be a good idea to go and have a screw where all these poor women were buried.”

  They didn’t really look like women, not anymore. “Get that shit away from me!”

  “We found evidence of more murders out at the lighthouse. We found the body of Alexa Chambers—”

  “I didn’t have nothin’ to do with that!” Were they trying to pin this shit on him?

  “We also found other trophies that the killer had taken and a map that we believe may lead us to additional victims.”

  Johnny jumped out of his chair, but the cuffs didn’t let him move far. “I didn’t kill those women!”

  “But you did go to Sand Island today, didn’t you? You caused the explosion.”

  Johnny’s gaze flew to the door. “I want to see the police chief.”

  “You’re seeing me.” Avery’s voice was flat.

  Johnny kicked out at the table. “I want Trey in here! I want him in here, now! He’s not going to pin this shit on me! I did my part. I did exactly what I was supposed to do, and I’m not going down for this—”

  “Your part?” Dean asked him. “Just what part was that?”

  His breath heaved in and out, seeming to burn his lungs. “I ain’t saying another word. Not until I see Trey, do you understand?” Those FBI bastards were trying to railroad him. Trey would help him.

  “You shot a cop.”

  He swallowed. “He was shooting at me.” Kill or be killed . . .

  “Bullshit,” Avery snapped. “You were trying to run away, and when you got caught, you decided to go down fighting.”

  Because he wasn’t about to get tossed in a cage.

  “You’re going away,” Dean said, as he took his time walking toward Johnny. “For a long time. So if you want any leniency from the government, now’s the time to talk. Now is the time for you to tell us everything that you know about the Lady Killer.”

  His frantic heartbeat was shaking his whole chest. “What makes you think I know anything?”

  Dean stared at him. “You shot a cop. You attacked Gabe and Jessica Montgomery. You wouldn’t have done that for no reason.”

  The cuffs bit into his wrists.

  “Tell us the reason, Johnny. Tell us why you went over the edge.”

  His chin jerked up. “I didn’t go over no edge.”

  “Then tell us . . . why?”

  The door to that little room opened again. Only this time Trey was there. Looking furious, his cheeks red, his eyes blazing. But he directed that fury at the FBI agent. “You started the interrogation without me?”

  Johnny saw Avery’s shoulders stiffen. “The FBI is in charge of this investigation—”

  Trey stalked closer to the guy. And closer to Johnny.

  Johnny’s gaze dropped. Trey had his weapon holstered on his right hip.

  “My man was shot,” Trey nearly yelled at him. “This is my island, my people—”

  “And your people have been dying for a while.”

  Trey jumped closer. He was just two feet away from Johnny. “You don’t interrogate my people without me!”

  Johnny leapt forward then, trying desperately to get that gun—

  But Dean grabbed him. Shit, he’d forgotten about him. He’d been so silent—

  Dean shoved him back into the chair, held him there with a grip of steel. “Not going to work like that,” Dean told him in a voice that made Johnny’s whole body tense. “You’re not going to attack us, and you’re sure as hell not going to go out the easy way.”

  Easy way.

  Johnny tried to heave against his hold. “Nothin’ easy . . . about it!”

  Suicide wasn’t easy. His mother had gone out like that, because she’d been so sick of being an abusive bastard’s punching bag. But it hadn’t been easy. She’d bled out so slowly. That blood had soaked her rug before she died.

  “Why did you go after them?” Dean asked him.

  “L-Lawyer . . .”

  “Did you kill those girls?” Dean pressed. “Your ‘parade of dead girls’ out there?”

  Johnny glared back at them.

  “I don’t think you did. I think you were too young for some of those murders. But I think . . . I think you know who did kill them.” Dean shoved him away.

  Johnny sat back down. The cuffs were still cutting into him. He tried to look like he wasn’t scared. That he didn’t give a shit. That was the way he would look. I can do this. I can—

  Trey had paced away from him but suddenly whirled back around. “Where’s your uncle, Johnny?”

&
nbsp; Johnny blanched.

  And Trey’s narrowed eyes said he saw the telling movement. “We tried to contact him at the marina and I sent a man to his house . . . but he wasn’t there.”

  “He was . . . helping with the search,” Johnny lied. “You know that. He’s probably still out on one of the boats.”

  Now Avery was leaning over the table. “We’re going to search your house. Your marina. We’re going to tear your life apart.”

  “And your uncle’s life,” Dean added.

  Johnny stared down at the table. He didn’t have anything else to say to these SOBs.

  “Where is Clay?” Trey asked him.

  Trey and his uncle used to be such good friends. Back in the day. Before a woman had torn them apart. Johnny started laughing then, because he just couldn’t help it. “She screwed you over in the end, the same way she did him.”

  Trey slapped the table. “Where is he?”

  “It’s over,” Johnny said. “All fucking over.” He forced his head to lift. “Now get me a lawyer.”

  EVE WAS BACK on the balcony at the condo. Pierce was a few feet away, watching her too carefully, and Gabe—he was close. Not touching her, but watching, just like Pierce.

  She was tired of everyone watching her.

  Pierce cleared his throat. “You need to . . . let me know how much I owe you, Spencer. I can give you a check and you and your team can be off the island by dusk.” He waved toward the ocean’s waves. “There’s talk of a tropical storm rolling in soon, so it’d be better if you were—”

  “I’m not leaving Eve.”

  “Jessica,” Pierce fired back. “Her name is—”

  “I like Eve,” she said, staring out at the water. She could see the dark clouds in the distance. They reminded her of the smoke she’d seen before, back on Sand Island. “I know Eve. Jessica . . . I’m not sure I want to know her.”

  “What?” Pierce caught her arm and pulled her around to face him. “You’re not making sense.”

  “Secrets,” she said, the word sad as it fell from her lips. “How many have you been keeping?”

  His gaze darted to Gabe. “I told you before, we could talk privately—”

  “I trust him.”

  Gabe edged closer to her. The wind tossed locks of her hair around her face.

  “He’s helped me from the beginning, when no one else would. And he asked for nothing in return.”

  Pierce’s cheeks reddened. “You’ve known him for days—”

  She laughed. “Yes, well, currently, that’s my record, you see. Because I don’t think the hazy memories count. And since I’ve known him longer than I’ve known anyone else . . .” She gave her brother a weak smile. “I’m trusting him.”

  Anger glinted in Pierce’s eyes. “Because you’re fucking him.”

  Why was everyone so concerned about her sex life?

  She took a step back and her shoulders bumped into Gabe.

  “Yes,” he said flatly. “She is.”

  Ah, okay.

  Pierce shook his head. “I thought you were past that.”

  Past having sex?

  “But I guess . . . with all the trauma . . . you reverted.”

  He’d totally lost her. Probably because the guy was running around and keeping his secrets. “What are you talking about?”

  Pierce’s lips thinned. “It’s because of what he did . . . what he tried to do. That’s why you . . . acted out with men when you were younger.”

  Her own mouth parted in surprise.

  “The shrinks said you were trying to take control back, by taking those lovers.” He turned from her. Stared out at the water. “You were so young. And you were running wild. Sleeping with Trey. With Clay Thompson . . . with others that I don’t even know about.”

  She backed even closer to Gabe.

  “With anyone who caught your eye. You didn’t have to know the guys for long. And, hell, it’s not like you really wanted them. Though they sure wanted you. The men took one look, and they wanted you.” Pierce glanced back at her, at Gabe. “That’s what’s happened with you, right, Spencer? You took one look, and you wanted. And I guess Jessica fell back into her old habits.”

  He sounded furious with her.

  But . . . whatever, so Jessica had enjoyed lovers. Men did that crap all the time. They had plenty of lovers and no one cared. Why did that make her—

  “Each lover you took just made things worse for you,” Pierce said, and some of the anger had slid from him. “The darkness he’d made inside of you just got worse.”

  He’d made?

  A half smile—one that looked both sad and angry—twisted Pierce’s lips. “Do you still sleep with your clothes on, Jessica? Those long sweatpants and the T-shirts that swallow you?”

  An ache was in her stomach. She pressed back, edging ever closer to Gabe. His arm curled around her shoulder, holding her tight. “Y-Yes . . .”

  “Want to know why you do that?”

  No. “Yes.”

  “Because he would watch you when you were younger. He’d come into your room . . .”

  She shook her head even as she felt tears begin to sting her eyes. This isn’t right. This isn’t—

  “I didn’t know, not for so long. You didn’t tell me, and I thought you realized you could tell me anything.”

  Come with me, sweetheart, let’s play a game . . .

  That voice was in her head, but she couldn’t see the man it belonged to. She never could.

  “The lighthouse . . .” Eve murmured.

  Pain flashed over Pierce’s face. “He used to take us there. And there . . . he tried to hurt you.”

  A tear slid down her cheek.

  “You must have known what he had planned.” Pierce’s voice was so low, like a growl. “Because you had a knife. I—I heard you laughing, screaming and laughing, and I rushed inside. You’d stabbed him.”

  Blood on my hands.

  “Who was the fucker who did this?” Gabe’s voice was savage.

  “Our father,” Pierce said. “The man who had the ear of presidents. The man who sat on the board of a dozen charities. The man who was a damn monster.”

  I won’t let him touch me. She could almost hear herself saying those words. I’ll kill him first.

  “I stopped you.” Pierce’s shoulders hunched. “Maybe I shouldn’t . . . you . . . you broke after that.”

  Gabe’s arm tightened around her.

  “Started sleeping with Trey, with Clay, with them all . . . one after the other. You were choosing, you said. You were in control.”

  Her skin was itching, burning. No, she was burning, from the inside out.

  “Then he and our mother died in that accident, and you—you tried to take your own life.” He stepped closer to her. Torment was clear to see on his face. “You were all I had left. Was I supposed to just let you go? I did everything I could . . . everything . . . to save you. I sent you to that hospital, I got you therapy, I got you help, and you were strong again. You were better, until . . .”

  Until she’d vanished?

  “I just want you better,” Pierce whispered to her. “And there is nothing to be gained by telling Trey about your past. That will only raise suspicion. He’ll wonder . . . did you kill them? He’ll wonder because, Christ, I wondered, too.”

  That hole inside of her was getting bigger with every moment that passed. “Is it any surprise . . .” Her voice was so cold. “. . . that I wanted to forget my life?”

  Pierce shook his head. “No.”

  “I . . . I need you to leave.” She was about to bowl over with the pain. She couldn’t do that. She needed control.

  Pierce drew in a long breath. “I kept telling you that Spencer needed to leave. Now he should—”

  She grabbed for Gabe’s hand. Held tight. “Not him. You. I need you to leave. I—I can’t talk to you right now.” Too much was happening. She didn’t want to shatter in front of him. He was a stranger.

  Pierce actually backed up a st
ep, as if she’d just struck him. “But I love you. I want to help you.”

  She believed him. He did love his sister.

  “I should have helped before. I should have seen it. But he was my father! The damn great Montgomery legend. When I came home from college, I kept noticing that you were more withdrawn, I knew something was happening, but I couldn’t figure out what. Not until it was too late.” His voice was hoarse. “I don’t want to be too late again.”

  She shivered. She couldn’t keep talking to him. Couldn’t keep hearing more about her past. She didn’t want to be Jessica. She wanted to be Eve.

  Eve . . . who’d woken in that hospital, scared but not shattered. Alive.

  Eve . . . who’d met Gabe. Who looked into his eyes and found a man she could trust.

  Eve . . . who’d wanted Gabe, not for any other reason than that he made her feel. Passion. Need. Desire.

  “Leave now,” Gabe said as he pulled Eve so that she was standing behind him. “Can’t you tell she needs time? You just—”

  He broke off and she was afraid of what he might say.

  You just destroyed her.

  Because that was how she felt.

  So her father had molested her? She’d tried to kill him? Maybe she had killed him? Her own brother thought so.

  She’d slept with men she couldn’t remember.

  And she kept seeing blood on her hands.

  “When you broke up with Trey,” Pierce’s voice was haggard, “I was afraid you were . . . falling back into your old routine. He told me that you—you’d been spotted with different men in town, that you were flirting wildly at the marina party that night.”

  Did I sleep with the man who tried to kill me?

  “Go,” Gabe gritted again. “She’s had enough for today.”

  Her knees felt like they were about to give way.

  This isn’t me. This isn’t me. He’s wrong. He doesn’t know.

  But . . . her brother should know.

  Gabe stopped waiting for Pierce to move on his own. As Eve watched, eyes widening, he grabbed Pierce and hauled him off the balcony and back into the condo. She watched them through the glass doors. Before Gabe pushed Pierce out of the penthouse, he bent and whispered something to her brother. Something that made Pierce jerk back and shake his head.