THE GIRL NEXT DOOR

by Cynthia Eden

  Then he heard the sound of footsteps coming quickly toward him.

  He glanced up. The moonlight showed him the face of the man approaching—a familiar face.

  Thomas Anthony.

  In an instant, Dylan had grabbed the other man, jerking him to a stop. “What the hell are you doing here?” Dylan demanded.

  He had his gun at the other man’s throat.

  Thomas stilled. “Easy...”

  “Don’t ‘easy’ me,” Dylan snarled right back. Easy was the last thing he felt. “Why the hell are you coming out of Rachel’s building at this damn time?”

  The streetlight fell on Thomas’s face. “That’s why,” he murmured. “I know how you feel, and I thought the killer might, too. I came to warn her.”

  Dylan thought he might be looking at the killer. Keeping his gun in place, he yanked up his phone with his left hand. He pressed the screen, instantly calling for Rachel.

  “You’re not going to get her,” Thomas told him. “Her phone isn’t working.”

  Rachel wasn’t picking up.

  He glanced up at her apartment on the top floor—the one on the far left end. All of her lights were off.

  His back teeth ground together. “If you’ve hurt her...”

  You’re a dead man.

  He wasn’t scared of Thomas Anthony. No matter what stories circulated about the so-called Dragon, Dylan didn’t care. He’d take the man down in an instant.

  And if Thomas had hurt Rachel...I’ll tear him apart.

  “We’re going upstairs,” Dylan snapped. He’d see for himself that Rachel was fine.

  Thomas turned around and headed toward the building. Dylan kept his gun at the man’s back. They knew the rogue was EOD, and Thomas—an EOD agent with a shady past—happened to be at Rachel’s place? To warn her? No way was he buying that story.

  “I just left her,” Thomas said. “She was very much alive, I assure you.”

  They climbed the stairs. No one else stirred in the apartment building.

  Dylan’s hands were sweating. He’d been in every hellhole on earth during his time as a SEAL, and he’d been coolly calm during every single mission. Yet as he hurried toward Rachel’s apartment, his stomach knotted and fear thickened his blood.

  A few more steps and they were at her apartment. He pounded on the door.

  No sound emerged from inside Rachel’s home.

  He reached for the knob. Locked.

  “Rachel!” He called out her name. Her neighbors could just get angry with him for yelling. He had to see her. “Open the door!”

  But there was still no response.

  “Something’s wrong,” Thomas said. Fear flashed across his face. “She came to the door within minutes when I was here before.”

  Dylan lifted his foot and kicked that door in.

  He ran inside. “Rachel!”

  A faint moan reached his ears.

  He tore through the house, flying to her bedroom. It was pitch-black in there. He hit the light switch.

  Dylan saw her crumpled on the floor. Blood was all around her. She was so still. So still.

  “No!” The roar burst from him, and, in the next instant, he was on his knees beside her. With shaking hands he turned Rachel over. Her dark hair fell over his arm.

  Blood.

  “She fought him,” Thomas muttered from behind Dylan. “Not like the others. She had a chance to fight for her life.”

  There were stab wounds on her chest, defensive wounds on her arms. And Dylan was afraid that she would die in his arms.

  He yanked up his weapon, but didn’t let her go. “You did this,” he said as he took aim at the Dragon.

  Thomas had his hands in front of him. No weapon, but that didn’t mean the guy wasn’t carrying a bloody knife. “It wasn’t me, I swear! I came to warn her, just like I said before.” He inched forward. “Let me help her. She helped me once, saved my life...”

  “Take another step, and you’ll have a bullet in your brain.”

  Rachel’s blood was on his hands. Rachel was dying in his arms.

  “I didn’t do this,” Thomas told him. “The apartment was locked from the inside.”

  And her bedroom window was wide open.

  “I came out the front,” Thomas continued doggedly. “I was with you, but whoever did this, he’s getting away.”

  Thomas started to advance toward them.

  Dylan fired his weapon.

  * * *

  THE RINGING PHONE woke Cooper, yanking him from a dream. He’d been running in that dream, desperately trying to get close to Gabrielle.

  The loud ringing came again, and his eyes snapped open. The dream vanished.

  Gabrielle was in his arms. Safe.

  And the phone wasn’t stopping.

  “Cooper?” Her voice was husky, sexy. “Has something happened?”

  A call at this hour had to mean something had gone wrong. He grabbed for the phone. “Marshall.”

  There was a murmur of voices. Then, “Rachel’s hurt. The rogue went after her. Her.” Dylan’s voice shook.

  “She’s alive.” Cooper worried his clenched grip would shatter the phone. But Dylan had said hurt, not dead.

  “Barely,” was Dylan’s low whisper. “We’re in the ER, and I’m not leaving her. I found Thomas Anthony at her place.”

  The Dragon?

  “She’s bad,” Dylan told him, and Cooper heard the pain and fear in the other man’s voice. “I’m not sure she’ll make it—”

  “I’m on my way,” Cooper promised.

  “No! Don’t come here—get to the EOD. Mercer took Thomas in for questioning after I shot the bastard.”

  Wait—Dylan had shot him?

  “Get to the EOD.” Dylan’s voice grated over the line. “Find out the truth. Thomas swore he was innocent—”

  But obviously Dylan hadn’t bought that story, or he wouldn’t have shot the guy.

  “Prove his innocence or prove his guilt,” Dylan ordered.

  Cooper looked to the left. He found Gabrielle’s wide eyes on him. “I will.” He ended the call and just stared at Gabrielle for a moment.

  “What is it?” Worry shone in her eyes.

  Cooper swallowed. “We were wrong about you being the next target. The rogue attacked Rachel.”

  She inhaled on a sharp gasp.

  “She’s alive, but Dylan said she’s badly hurt.” He didn’t tell her that Dylan wasn’t sure if Rachel would survive.

  She has to survive.

  If she didn’t, Cooper wasn’t sure how Dylan would react.

  He climbed from the bed and grabbed his clothes. “There’s a suspect in custody at the EOD. I’m going down for an interrogation.”

  “And I’m coming with you.” She jumped out of bed, giving him one fine view of her body before she started yanking on clothes.

  He hesitated. “Gabrielle, you know I can’t just take you to the EOD office.”

  She shoved back her hair. “Then blindfold me. Do whatever you have to do.” Gabrielle walked toward him with her gaze snapping. “But you aren’t leaving me behind, partner.”

  No, a partner wouldn’t leave her behind.

  He caught the back of her head and pulled her toward him. He kissed her, hard, fast and frantic, because he had to.

  He knew Dylan must be in sheer hell right then.

  And the thought of something like that happening to Gabrielle, of someone hurting her... “Damn straight you’re coming with me,” he said.

  Twenty-four seven. That had been their deal. He wasn’t going to break any more promises to Gabrielle. He needed her to know that she could count on him.

  For now.

  Forever.

 
Cooper didn’t plan on leaving her when the mission was over. He’d found something special with Gabrielle, and he wasn’t about to let her go.

  She gave him a little nod. He finished dressing and grabbed his gun, then his fingers twined with hers.

  He hurried to the door, yanked it open.

  And found Deuce standing there. Deuce nodded when he saw Cooper. The guy gave Gabrielle a wan smile. “I’m here for guard duty,” he said with a little shrug.

  Cooper frowned at him. “What?”

  “You’re wanted at headquarters.” Now Deuce was the one who frowned. “Didn’t Dylan call you? Hell, I know he was messed up about Rachel, but Mercer wanted you to come in—”

  “—for the interrogation,” Cooper finished. “I know, we’re going there now.”

  Deuce shook his head. “No, you’re going.” He glanced at Gabrielle. “Sorry, ma’am, but your clearance isn’t high enough. The big boss sent me over to keep an eye on you until Cooper gets back.”

  Gabrielle stiffened. “Clearance or no clearance, I’m going with Cooper.”

  A long sigh came from Deuce. “Civilians never understand, do they, Coop?” He rolled back his shoulders. “Want me to give you two some privacy while you explain things to her? Make it fast, though, okay, buddy? Mercer isn’t exactly patient.”

  Cooper hesitated.

  “She’ll be waiting when you come back,” Deuce said as he turned away. “You know it. They’re always waiting...”

  No, they weren’t. Sometimes you turned away—for a mission, for just a moment, and you looked back, and the one you loved was gone.

  Loved.

  His chest ached as Cooper stared down at Gabrielle. When had he started to love her? He hadn’t loved anyone, or anything, not since he’d lost his mother.

  Gone, in an instant.

  The back of his hand brushed over Gabrielle’s cheek.

  “Cooper?” She gazed at him, waiting.

  Did she think he’d leave her? That he’d break his promise to her?

  “I want you to trust me,” he said softly, needing her to understand. “I gave you my word. I won’t go back on it, not ever again.” Then he raised his voice, making sure Deuce could hear him as he said, “I’ll call Mercer and let him know—”

  The bullet hit Cooper, driving into his side and tearing through his body. Gabrielle screamed even as Cooper felt his body falling.

  “You should’ve just left her,” Deuce snapped. “Then I could have taken you out, one at a time, all nice and slow, just like I planned.”

  Cooper tried to pull his gun from the holster. Blood pumped from him, soaking the floor.

  “Cooper!” Gabrielle reached for him.

  He jerked out his weapon.

  But Cooper didn’t get the chance to fire that weapon. Because Deuce grabbed Gabrielle, and the man who’d worked side by side with Cooper pressed his gun to Gabrielle’s temple.

  “I don’t like using a gun for my kills.” Deuce’s voice was low and hard, with a lethal edge. “It’s just not personal enough. Death should be personal, don’t you think?”

  Cooper dragged himself to his feet. The bullet was still in him, and the wound burned as the blood dripped down his body.

  He stared into Deuce’s eyes.

  Deuce smiled. “If you don’t drop your weapon, I’ll kill her right now.”

  Cooper let his weapon fall.

  “Good,” Deuce praised. The fingers of his left hand were wrapped tightly around Gabrielle’s throat. Too tightly. “Now walk back into your apartment. Nice and slow.”

  Keeping his eyes on Deuce and ignoring the pain, Cooper retreated, walking backward into his apartment.

  Deuce followed, still with that tight grip on Gabrielle. When they were all inside Cooper’s place, Deuce told Gabrielle, “Lock the door. We want to make sure we don’t have any unwanted guests.”

  Cooper saw her fingers tremble as she obeyed.

  He could barely contain his fury—and his fear. Deuce had been the one to kill Lockwood? McAdams? The one to attack Rachel?

  “You know, perhaps I’ve been wrong all this time...” Now Deuce’s voice was considering. Mild and calm—just the way the guy was when they were playing cards.

  Only this wasn’t some card game.

  This was life. Gabrielle’s life.

  “I thought it was better to kill the women they loved, then let the agents suffer until I put them out of their misery.” Deuce thrust the gun barrel harder against Gabrielle’s temple. “But making you watch while I kill her, oh, I think that is going to be even better...”

  * * *

  MERCER GLARED AT Thomas Anthony. The agent was wounded, but they’d patched him up.

  For the moment.

  If Mercer found out that Thomas was the rogue in his group, he’d do more than just wound the guy.

  I’ll destroy him.

  “I’m not changing my story, Mercer,” Thomas said. The guy’s voice was even. No sign of rage or fear darkened his face. “I went to warn Rachel because I thought she was a target. When I left her, she was fine.”

  “And why’d you think she was a target? That part, I just don’t see...”

  “Rachel hauled me out of that prison camp. She stayed with me, telling me I had to fight, that I had to live, for nearly eight hours straight.” Thomas stared steadily back at Mercer. “I heard the docs saying I was a dead man. And I heard her—telling me to live. The way I figure it, I owed her.”

  Mercer let his brows climb. “You owed her a knife to the chest? That was your way of saying thanks?”

  Thomas’s jaw tightened. “I owed her protection. When I heard about the profiler’s theory, I knew I had to warn Rachel.”

  “Because you’re in love with her...” He tossed this out, looking for a reaction from the agent.

  “No. Because Dylan Foxx is. Why the hell else do you think the guy shot me? When he saw Rachel like that, on the floor and bleeding, he went crazy.”

  Mercer was well aware of Dylan’s feelings for Rachel Mancini; he just wanted to see what Thomas would reveal.

  “I was trying to help her.” Thomas was repeating the same story, again and again. “Dylan thought I was attacking again, so he shot me. He wasn’t about to let anyone but the doctors get close to his lady.”

  Mercer’s eyes narrowed. “I find myself curious...just how did you learn of the profile that Agent Evers was developing? That profile should have been confidential.”

  Thomas shrugged. “Deuce told me about it. He said he’d heard the FBI agent talking to you.”

  Deuce?

  Mercer kept his expression blank.

  “Deuce said it looked like the killer was going after the people that the agents cared about, attacking the women they loved first, then taking out the agents.” Thomas rocked forward in his chair. “That’s when I thought of Rachel. I knew about how Dylan felt—hell, how could I not? Have you seen the way the guy watches her? And I thought, hell, if the rogue wants to hurt the EOD, he’d focus on them. He’d take out two agents all at once.”

  Only the rogue hadn’t been able to take out Rachel. She’d fought back.

  The rogue had been denied his victim.

  Would he try to attack her again? Or would he focus on someone else?

  Mercer stood and advanced toward the door.

  “You believe me, right?” Thomas called out. “Mercer?”

  Mercer didn’t respond. He went into the observation room. Two other agents were there—agents whom he trusted: Gunner Ortez and Logan Quinn. “I want to know where Deuce Porter is,” Mercer said. “And I want to know now.”

  * * *

  RACHEL’S EYELIDS TWITCHED. A soft moan slipped from her lips.

  Dylan’s heart raced in his chest. �
��It’s okay,” he told her, aware that his voice was no more than a rough rasp of sound. “You’re safe.” She was headed into the OR. She shouldn’t even be opening her eyes then.

  Not with the drugs that the doctors had given her.

  But Rachel was staring up at him. Fear and fury battled in her stare. “D-D...”

  “Take it easy,” he told her. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not ever again.”

  She grabbed for his hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong. “Deuce...”

  And as understanding sank into Dylan, her rage became his.

  * * *

  “WHY?” COOPER GROWLED. He kept his eyes on Deuce. If he looked at Gabrielle, if he saw her fear, he was afraid he’d lose control.

  Deuce was hurting her. And Cooper knew that unless he stopped him, Deuce would take pleasure in killing Gabrielle.

  That can’t happen. Cooper didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t contain Gabrielle.

  She was too important.

  She was everything.

  “Vivian,” Deuce said softly. “My beautiful Vivian. She’s why.” He lifted the gun a few inches from Gabrielle’s temple.

  That’s right. Get the gun off her. Focus on me.

  “Do you remember her, Coop? You’d just joined the EOD on that mission.”

  Cooper’s guts were twisted in knots. Vivian. Vivian Donaldson. “She was the blonde. She was—”

  “Mine!” Deuce screamed at him. The gun went right back to Gabrielle’s temple. “Vivian was mine, and I was hers. We met in the Marines. We joined the EOD together. Our lives were together.” Deuce’s breath heaved out. “Until that mission...that last damn mission that got screwed to hell and back.”

  “Did she die?” Gabrielle asked him softly.

  “She jumped in front of me.” Deuce was staring at Cooper, but Cooper wasn’t sure the other man actually saw him in that moment. “She took the gunfire meant for me. The bullets—they tore through her body. She jerked and shuddered, and she died.” His breath heaved. “I was holding her in my arms, and more bullets came flying. They hit me. I should have died with her—”

  “But we pulled you out,” Cooper said. They’d also taken Vivian. They’d tried to help her, but it had been too late.

  And, once he’d recovered, Aaron Porter had become Deuce. The moniker was both for the fact that he could so easily assume the identity of another person...and because he’d been given a second chance.