Broken

by Cynthia Eden

  Gabe spoke again, the words too low for her to hear.

  And Pierce left, hurrying away. He looked over at her right before the front door shut.

  Then he was just . . . gone.

  Let’s play a game . . .

  Eve shook her head, hard.

  No games. No more. Not ever.

  Her hand curled in, as if . . . as if the fingers were curling around a knife.

  No games.

  “Eve?”

  Her head whipped up. Gabe was there. Staring at her with a gaze she couldn’t read.

  She needed to know what he was feeling. Disgust. Pity. Fear. What did he feel when he looked at her? What?

  He was about five feet from her. She couldn’t force her body to move an inch in order to get closer to him.

  “We need to talk,” Gabe said, voice quiet. Too quiet.

  He’s going to leave . . . he doesn’t want me anymore. Not now that he knows about me.

  “Yes.” She had to move, but she couldn’t. She had to—

  “I’m not the man you think.”

  He was moving slowly toward her. His blue eyes were on hers, staring hard and deep.

  He was so wrong, though. He was exactly the man she thought he was. True and strong and—

  His hand lifted. His knuckles brushed over her cheek. “You’re afraid.”

  Afraid that he was going to leave. That she was a monster. A killer. Yes, she was afraid of plenty right then.

  “Why?” His hand was warm against her cheek.

  “Because of . . . what I’ve done.”

  He kissed her.

  Eve was so stunned that her heart actually seemed to stop in that instant. It wasn’t a rough kiss. Wasn’t wild with passion or fury. Just . . .

  Tasting.

  Claiming?

  “I’m not the man you think,” he said against her lips. “And if anyone can understand darkness, baby, it’s me.”

  He was wrong. He—

  “It’s time you knew the truth about me.” His head lifted, just a few more inches. His eyes . . . so blue . . . so deep. “I tried to tell you before that I wasn’t some hero.”

  To her, he was.

  “If you’re pushed far enough, anyone can go over the edge.”

  Her breath seemed too ragged. “Have you been pushed . . . ?”

  “You know someone took my sister.”

  She managed a nod.

  “By the time the cops realized she wasn’t with her ex, she’d been missing for days . . . fucking days. They thought there was no chance that she was still alive. They gave up on her.”

  Eve had goose bumps on her arms.

  “I’d been in that VA hospital, fighting for my life, fighting to get free so I could go to her.” The lines near his mouth deepened. “When I finally got loose, Wade and I didn’t give up on her. Wade wasn’t like the rest of those jerks in the homicide department—he wasn’t backing down. But the days kept slipping by, and soon I thought . . . maybe I’ll just be finding her body. Maybe that’s what I’ll be bringing back home.”

  “Gabe—”

  “I had to bring her home.”

  Her lips wanted to tremble so she pressed them together. Her hands wanted to reach for him, so she wrapped them around her stomach.

  “We realized the guy who had taken her had been a patient she’d seen at the hospital. We found him at an old cabin in the mountains.” He swallowed and the soft click was almost painful to hear. “My sister was dead . . . but she hadn’t been dead for long. It was still her when I looked at the body. He’d kept her alive all that time. Tortured her. She’d fought to hold on, fought to live long enough to come back to me, and I got to her too late.”

  Too late. Those were the same words that Pierce had said, only now they knifed right into Eve.

  “He was there, that bastard who’d taken her. Talking about voices in his head, voices that made him hurt women. He told me that he’d killed her two days ago. He just told me. Wade had his badge, so I guess the guy thought we were just going to take him and get him locked up in a psych ward once he started spouting his stories.”

  “He . . . he didn’t realize she was your sister.”

  “Not until I started punching him.”

  She backed up a step, instinctively. His gaze noted the movement, but no change of expression crossed his hard face.

  “Wade had to pull me off him. I wanted to beat the bastard to death with my bare hands.”

  He looked down at his hands now. So did she. Strong, powerful hands. Hands that had caressed every part of her body.

  “I’ve got blood there, too, baby. Blood that won’t ever wash away.”

  He understood.

  “The guy went for a scalpel . . . a scalpel he’d used on her. Seemed the man liked to play doctor with the nurses, only he wanted to cut them open, not heal them. He came at me with that scalpel . . .” His gaze lifted. Held hers. As if he had to be sure that she was paying attention to this part. “And I shot him in the heart.”

  Her breath exploded from her lungs. “Y-You were defending yourself.”

  “I was a SEAL. I could have disarmed him in a dozen ways. I didn’t want to. I wanted him dead. Wade knew that, he knew exactly what I’d done, but he still backed up my story.”

  She wasn’t retreating any longer.

  “There was plenty of suspicion, but I was the grieving brother, and the guy’s guilt in Amy’s murder was obvious. So the cops closed the case, and I learned to live with the darkness in me.”

  He’d told her about that darkness before. She hadn’t believed him. Or . . . had she?

  Why was I so drawn to him? Because I sensed he was like me?

  “I started LOST so other families would have a choice, so they could find their loved ones and not have to face the monsters out there.” A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I didn’t want them pushed to the edge the same way I was, because when you’re pushed too far—”

  “There’s no going back,” she finished softly.

  “No. There isn’t.”

  The crash of the waves seemed so loud, and a chill had swept over her. The sky seemed to be darkening around them.

  “Say something, Eve.”

  “I—I understand.”

  “You’re afraid.”

  Not of him. “Are you afraid of me?” Because she’d attacked her father. Killed him? I don’t know.

  “Never.” His hands wrapped around her shoulders. He pulled her closer to him. Closer was exactly where she wanted to be. “I want you just as much as I always have, and that is fucking more than anything else.”

  That was the way she wanted him. It wasn’t about having control. About taking control . . .

  It was about Gabe. About how he made her feel.

  “I’m a killer, Eve. You need to understand that.”

  She shook her head.

  But he nodded. “If anyone tried to hurt you, I would kill that bastard.”

  If anyone tried to hurt me, I’d kill him myself. That whisper was inside of her. Dark. Cold. And . . . true. She knew it. Whoever she’d been in the past—she hadn’t just cried and taken her pain. She’d fought back.

  And she would keep fighting. Jessica . . . Eve . . . she would keep fighting.

  She rose onto her toes, and her mouth pressed to his.

  TREY POUNDED ON the door. “Clay!” he yelled. “We have a warrant to search the premises! Open the door!”

  Agent Granger was behind him. Dean Bannon was there, too. He’d argued against bringing the guy, but Granger had insisted, saying that Bannon had previous FBI experience they could use.

  Freaking FBI—they stuck together too much.

  “Doesn’t look like he’s opening the door,” Granger said.

  No, he wasn’t. But that was because Trey didn’t think Clay was there. Half a dozen boats were still missing from the marina. People out searching . . . Clay out running?

  But, screw it. He was done waiting. He had a tropical storm bearing down on
him, an injured officer, and another dead body in the town’s too little morgue.

  The mayor was having a shit fit, and this was ending. Now.

  Trey kicked open the door. Rushed inside. “Clay!”

  No answer. Had the guy already gotten off the island? Used any of the dozens of boats housed at his marina? That was a definite possibility. Talk about your perfect access. With the marina his to control, Clay could have taken out his victims on different boats anytime he wanted. No one would have known what he was doing. Not until it was too late.

  Footsteps pounded in behind him. Granger and Dean. They were all searching through the house.

  “Found something!” Granger yelled.

  Trey whirled away and ran toward the shout. The FBI agent was in a bedroom, one that looked out over the water and one with—

  A shrine?

  “That’s Eve,” Dean said. “I mean, Jessica.”

  That was Jessica Montgomery. Dozens of pictures of her. Pictures of her as the beautiful teen that Trey remembered. Pictures of her as the woman she was now. Pictures of her running along the beach. Pictures of her naked in bed.

  “Were Eve and Clay lovers?”

  Trey’s back teeth locked together. “Once.” A fucking long time ago.

  “We need all available resources looking for this man,” Granger said. “The bastard got his nephew to try and cover his tracks . . . we have to find him!”

  Because they thought Clay was their killer.

  Trey stared at those pictures of Jessica. Beautiful, perfect Jessica. In her bed. The silken sheets around her . . . and . . .

  Someone had been in the photos with her.

  His eyes narrowed as he tried to make out more in them. But the man with her was blurry, a bit indistinct. He was— “Sonofabitch.” He whirled for the door. He needed to get to Jessica. Right then.

  “What the hell?” Dean jumped in his path. “Where are you going?”

  “Jessica—”

  “Is with Gabe. She’s safe. We have to work at finding this bastard here.”

  The guy didn’t get it. No one understood. He threw back his hand toward that creepy shrine. “It’s him!”

  “What?”

  Jessica wasn’t safe with Gabe. She wasn’t safe at all. He had to get to her while there was still time. “It’s him!” He snarled again. “Gabe!” And he shoved Dean out of his way.

  He was getting to Jessica. No one was going to stop him.

  No. One.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  GABE HELD EVE AS TIGHTLY AS HE COULD. HE had the feeling that if he didn’t keep her close, she’d slip away, right out of his hands, and that wasn’t going to happen for him. He’d been looking for her—he hadn’t even realized it—for too long. He had the woman he wanted, the woman who fit him, and he wasn’t going to let her get away.

  He took her back into the condo. Kissing her, stroking her, fighting to strip those clothes off her. Death had come too close that day. Secrets. Sins. They were tangling around them both, but that didn’t matter.

  Only Eve mattered.

  He pushed her back onto the bed. Tossed away the last of her clothes. Spread her out beneath him.

  He wanted to give her so much pleasure that she couldn’t stand it. Wanted to banish every fear that she’d ever had.

  He wanted to give her everything.

  His mouth went to her breast. Her nipple was pink and tight and perfect. And when he took that peak into his mouth, her nails dug into his back. Her hips eagerly slammed up against his.

  She moaned his name, and he loved the sound of her need.

  He kissed his way to her other breast. Lust was a fury within him, demanding that he take and take and—

  Use care.

  That fast warning came from deep within him. His hand flew out and fisted around the sheets. He wanted to drive into her as hard as he could. To know that she was safe and alive and with him.

  Care.

  She deserves care.

  His hand slid down her stomach. Her shorts and underwear were gone. He touched her silken, bare sex.

  I want to take everything she has. I want her to take all of me.

  Fuck!

  His hands jerked away from her and he fisted the covers.

  “G-Gabe? What is it?”

  His head lifted. Gabe searched her gaze, but he didn’t see fear. Just passion. “I want you . . . to be okay . . .” Okay with his possession. With his passion. Her fear was the last thing he wanted.

  “I’m always okay,” was her soft response, “when I’m with you.”

  Because he would do anything for her. Did she realize it? Just how far he’d fallen? He’d been falling, ever since he’d looked up and seen a woman who told him that she was lost.

  “I don’t want you . . .” Speaking was hard. When his cock was that big and all he wanted to do was drive balls deep into her. “. . . afraid.”

  Her hand slid between their bodies. She shoved his clothes out of her way and then her fingers were curling around his cock. Warm and tight. Good. So good. But not as good as it would be when Gabe was in her. Nothing was that good.

  Her past . . . her past . . . don’t hurt her. Don’t—

  “You and me,” Eve said, and she pressed a kiss to his lips. “That’s all that matters right here, right now. You.” She stroked him. “Me.”

  He wouldn’t let his control go. Couldn’t. “I never . . . want to hurt you.” He should pull away. After what she’d learned—

  Then the fear came. Flickering in her eyes. Her hand rose. Pushed against his shoulder. “St-Stop.”

  I’m a fucking bastard.

  “It’s because of what he said . . . what I did with the—the others . . . you don’t want—” Her breath heaved out. “I don’t even remember those men!”

  She tried to twist out of the bed. Carefully, he held her there. Carefully, he kissed her there. “Other lovers don’t matter to me.” Well, they’d better never come at her again with desire in their eyes or they’d deal with him. With an effort, he kept his voice soft. “I wasn’t a virgin, and I didn’t expect you to be.”

  She was still beneath him.

  He mentally told his cock to calm the hell down, for the moment. This was important. She was important.

  “That’s your past,” he told her. “Good, bad, everything in between. Past.” He had to kiss her again. A little harder. A little deeper. “I’m your present.” He wanted to be her future. “Be with me.”

  “I am!” The pain in her voice cut through him. “You’re the one trying to pull away.”

  He rolled them, twisting them on the bed so that she was on top of him. He needed to give her as much power as he could. He wanted—

  “Control,” Eve whispered.

  Yes.

  “I don’t want it.”

  What?

  “Not with you. It’s not a power play . . . a—a game . . .” She shook her head. Her hair slid over her cheeks. “I just want you, exactly the way you are.”

  But he could be a dominating bastard, and he wanted to be different with her.

  Her lips brushed over his. “I just want you. There’s nothing else. No one else. Just you. Just me.”

  His hands were curved around her hips. Her legs were open, her sex bare and sliding over him. He pushed his fingers between their bodies. Stroked her sex. She was warm, her heat glistening on his fingers. But she wasn’t ready enough. Not even close.

  If she wanted him, just the way he was, then she’d have him.

  Good, bad, everything in between . . .

  He rose up. Pushed her back. Spread her legs even farther apart. Her breath hitched, then came faster.

  He put his mouth on her. On that perfect, pink flesh. He put his mouth on her and he feasted.

  There was no past. There was only them.

  She came against his mouth. Eve shoved up against him and gave a wild cry. He kept licking her, kept stroking her with his tongue and mouth, and she was wet now. Creamy. He lo
ved her that way.

  Eager for him.

  But he didn’t climb on top of her. He settled back on the mattress, leaning against the pillows. He lifted her over him once more.

  I can be a dominating bastard . . .

  But I’m hers.

  His tight grip on her hips guided her to him. When she slid over his cock, a ragged groan tore from him because she was a hot paradise. Squeezing and hugging his cock like the best dream he’d ever had.

  He pushed her forward, wanting her clit to slide against his cock as he arched against her. His hips left the bed and he shoved into her as deep as he could go.

  This time she was the one to grab for the covers. To hold them tight in a fisted grip. Eve’s head tipped back and she began to ride him. Not some smooth, controlled passion. Hot and hard and driving.

  Deep and consuming.

  Sweat slickened his body, and he didn’t care. He was surging toward fulfillment, taking every drop of passion that she had to give. In and out, his cock slid home, and it was perfect.

  She was perfect.

  Eve started coming again, trembling around him, her body shuddering, and she was touching herself as she came, pushing her hand over her clit and calling out his name.

  He’d never seen anything more beautiful. In that moment he realized how very far he’d fallen, for Eve.

  He surged into her once more and the pleasure overwhelmed him. He held her as tightly as he could, in a grip that he feared would bruise, but he couldn’t let go. I never want to let go. Eve had come to mean far too much to him, in just a few short days.

  He emptied into her, his whole body shuddering because the pleasure was enough to make a man crazy.

  Especially a man who was already on the edge.

  TREY WALLACE SLAMMED his car door shut and glared up at the condominium complex. The sky was too damn dark behind that building, and he could already feel a roughness in the wind blowing against him.

  His phone rang, and swearing, he jerked it up to his ear. “Look, I don’t—”

  “We have more victims,” Agent Granger told him.

  What? He’d just left the guy!

  “My partner followed the map that was recovered at the lighthouse. Douglas is only at the first location, near the Nature Preserve, but he’s found . . . remains.”

  Shit.

  “We need you back at the station,” Granger said. “We have to work at recovering as many of these bodies as we can. The National Weather Service has just said that the tropical storm is definitely turning. It’s not heading east toward Pensacola. It’s coming here. We’ll be the ones getting the direct hit.”