by Cynthia Eden
Wade was still struggling with the door. If it weren’t for those hanging flowers up there, she would have thought the old building was abandoned. But the flowers . . . the video camera . . .
Someone was there.
“There’s another entrance,” she said to Wade. “Has to be. Let’s check the back.” And, once more, they were running through that alley. Goose bumps rose on Sarah’s skin as they headed to the back and . . .
A door was at the rear of the building. A big, red door.
Sarah’s phone rang.
She yanked it out of her pocket, her heart racing because she thought it might be the perp calling her again. But it wasn’t Molly’s number. It was a number she’d never seen before.
It could be him.
Wade ran toward the door.
“Wait!” Sarah grabbed his shoulder.
Wade stared at her as if she were crazy.
She lifted the phone. This could be him, Sarah mouthed. She put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Sarah! Where are you?” That low, growling voice—it was Jax’s voice. Only . . . wasn’t Jax in police custody?
“I’m with Wade,” she said, staring into his golden eyes. Wade was frowning and obviously impatient as he glared at her. “We think we found a lead. A video camera, on a balcony just a few streets over from Bourbon. I think the perp took her from the alley here, and I think—”
“He’s after you.” Jax’s voice was dark. “I want you and Wade to get back in the car, and get away from that place, do you understand?”
No, she didn’t understand. Running made no sense. Not if they had a lead on Molly.
“I’ve got my men coming to find you now.”
What? “We’re going to get that video feed. It will show us what happened!” Every instinct she had screamed that this was the place.
“He’s after you.” Jax’s words were grim. “Don’t you see? Everything . . . it’s about you.”
Sarah shook her head.
Wade swore. “We’re wasting time.” He slipped away from her and marched for the door.
“Sarah, listen to me.” There was an intensity in Jax’s voice that pulled at her. “This is off. Everything—it’s wrong. You think you’re the only one who knows criminals? I understand them, too. I’ve lived with them my whole life. This guy—he knows your father.”
“H-How do you know that?”
“Because Eddie told me.”
He’d gotten Eddie to talk? How? When?
“This guy wants you to pay for something your father did. I think he’s been watching you, Sarah. Studying you, and I think he’s trying to lure you into a trap that you can’t resist.”
Sarah glanced over at Wade. He was reaching for the back door. That bright red door. One that was like a giant X mark on a map. She could see the knob turning easily in his hand. But why would the back door be unlocked when the front had been sealed so securely? Her gaze jerked around, rising, up, going to the left, the right, the—
More video cameras. Hidden so that you wouldn’t see them on the first glance, or the second. You had to search to find them positioned so carefully. Positioned to watch the back of the house.
“Wade, no!” Sarah yelled.
“Sarah?” Jax demanded. “What’s happening? Wait for my men! Wait—”
She ran toward Wade. He was pulling open the door. “No!” she screamed at him. Because I think Jax is right. I think this scene is a trap—and we’re walking straight into it!
Wade turned toward her, his face showing his confusion. She grabbed his arm and hauled him toward her.
“Sarah, what the hell—” he began.
She started running, pulling him with her, hauling and yanking at him with all her strength.
And then the building exploded. The force of the explosion picked Sarah up and hurtled her through the air.
“SARAH?” JAX SHOUTED. “Sarah!” He’d heard her scream. Scream even as something had seemed to explode in the background.
Now the line was dead. And fear clawed at his guts.
“What’s happening?” his lawyer, Ty Keith, demanded. The guy cast a nervous glance Jax’s way. His hold tightened on the steering wheel.
“Floor the fucking gas,” Jax snarled at him. “Get us to Bourbon Street, now.”
“B-But what’s on Bourbon?”
From the sounds he’d heard . . . “Look for the smoke.” Smoke that the firefighters would need to battle hell hard.
Sarah—be alive.
If she wasn’t, then Jax would wreak some serious fury on that city. They drove faster, faster, and rule-following Ty was sure racing through those streets.
Jax leaned forward, peering through the windshield. He dialed Carlos. His friend answered on the first ring. “Tell me you’re close to her,” Jax demanded. He knew he sounded desperate, but he didn’t care. This was Sarah. Sarah . . . mattered to him.
There was a pause. “Boss, I see the flames.”
And that was when Jax saw the smoke billowing up into the sky.
Sarah!
HE SMILED AS he stared at the monitor. Fire was shooting out of the old building. Bursting from the windows that had shattered moments before.
“Boom,” he whispered as he leaned forward and touched that screen. Oh, but it had been so easy. He’d tossed a few bread crumbs, and Sarah had followed them so quickly.
The image turned to static. The explosion and the fire had finally knocked out his feeds. But he’d seen enough.
Sarah had been running toward the building. She’d been shouting, probably so sure that she was there to save the day.
But you were like a moth, coming to the flame. A moth that had burned and turned to ash.
He couldn’t wait for her dear old dad to find out that his daughter was dust. If only he could see the expression on the bastard’s face. Not so smug now, are you, Murphy? Now you know what it’s like to have no power. To have nothing—
But fear and rage.
Chapter 7
GET HIM OUT OF THERE!”
Sarah coughed.
“Bring the bastard—the fire is spreading too much!”
She cracked open her eyes. She was . . . moving? Yes, and she was upside down. Slung over someone’s shoulder. Smoke was all around her and Sarah coughed, choking.
“It’s okay, Doc,” a man told her. He was the one carrying her like she was a sack of potatoes and running fast—so fast through that smoke. “We’re taking care of you.”
Another coughing fit racked her body, and Sarah realized that she hurt. Her body ached in about a dozen different places because . . .
Her memory came flooding back. “F-Fire!”
They burst out of the alley. She could hear the sound of fire trucks, and when she turned her head, she saw the flash of their lights. The firefighters always responded so fast in this city—because a fire could spread too easily on these streets. The buildings were positioned right next to each other and a fire could jump from one location to another—this fire was already spreading!
She pushed against the guy’s back, trying to see more.
“Easy, easy . . .” he told her, and then Sarah’s world spun as he lifted her up and sat her down on the sidewalk—the sidewalk across the street from that blaze. “Let me check you out.”
She looked up and found herself staring into the dark gaze of a man who had a long, slashing scar over his left eye. Carlos.
“Don’t be scared,” he said. Carlos was huge—a giant and currently covered in ash, just like she was. “Jax sent me to take care of you.”
She heard a groan and turned her head to the left. Two other men were there—big guys with lots of tats who’d just lowered Wade onto the sidewalk.
A fire truck roared up the street. Another followed close behind. The wail of those sirens was so loud that her ears ached. She wanted to lift her hands and slap them over her ears, but Sarah found she could hardly move at all.
Then those men—all three of them, clos
ed in around her. Sarah stared up at them, a tendril of fear snaking through her. What was happening?
Carlos smiled at her. “Don’t you worry. No one is gonna hurt you again.”
They were . . . guarding her. And Wade.
“Jax,” she said, her voice coming out like a croak. Probably because of all the smoke. She coughed, cleared her throat, and tried again. “Jax—he sent you?”
Because he’d told her that his men were coming.
“He’s on his way,” Carlos said. “And you’re safe.”
But she almost hadn’t been. Wade started coughing and she focused on him again. He’d been pulling open that door. If Jax hadn’t called and told her to get away . . .
She and Wade would have gone into that building. Then they would have been the ones blown to bits.
This doesn’t make sense! We were just looking for the girl.
But the girl had only been bait, to lure them in. Sarah stared over at those flames. The firefighters were on scene then, shouting orders and spraying water at the blaze. Had Molly Guthrie been in that building? Was she burning right then?
“They need to know . . .” She coughed again. “ . . . that a victim . . . could be inside.”
The men looked at each other. Carlos nodded. “Tell the cops.” A fellow with a long, twisting tiger tattoo around his left hand nodded, and he ran toward the cop cars that had just braked to a screeching stop a few feet away.
“Are you hurt anywhere?” Carlos asked her, his voice a low growl.
She had plenty of bruises and scrapes, but nothing that wouldn’t heal on its own. “I’m all right.”
“What about him?” Carlos asked, jerking his thumb toward Wade. Wade was sitting up now, but his shoulders were hunched.
“He’s . . .” Wade managed, “fine.” Wade’s head tilted back and his golden stare met hers. “What in the hell happened?”
She glanced over at the burning building. “He tried to kill us.” And she’d bet a month’s pay that the man they were after had been watching them on those video cameras. Waiting to draw them in. To get closer and closer. He’d locked the front entrance, making sure they’d have to go in through the back. And that was where he’d rigged the explosives. Open that door and—boom.
“How did he know we’d even get here? That we’d . . . find her?” Wade asked.
“Because he knows us.” He knows me. That knowledge terrified her.
She couldn’t stop looking at those flames. So big, streaking up toward the sky. Red and orange. The firefighters were trying to stop that blaze from spreading, but the fire was so greedy.
Another car braked to a stop. A Benz. It was just steps away. The passenger side door opened and—
“Sarah!” Jax shouted her name.
“She’s here, boss!” Carlos called back.
Jax’s head whipped toward them. Then he was running toward her. Hs face was locked in tense, angry lines. He sure is pissed. That thought was immediate, and it was followed by . . . He’s going to make someone pay. She knew it with a chilling certainty.
Jax stopped right before her. She rose on trembling legs. Sarah had actually thought that he might pull her into his arms. Hold her tight. But he didn’t. He just watched her with that glittering stare.
Did I want him to hold me?
“You’re bleeding.” Jax snapped out those words.
“Just scratches.” She felt so cold. Strange, when the heat from that fire was scorching the street.
A muscle flexed in Jax’s jaw. “How close were you to the fire?”
“Uh . . .” It was a bit hard to remember that part.
Carlos stepped forward. “We found her and the guy on the ground in the back. They were both unconscious.”
That tended to happen when you were tossed through the air and you slammed into the concrete.
She stood there, uncertain. Jax’s gaze was slowly traveling from the tips of her toes up to her—
“Don’t scare me like that again.”
Before she could respond, Jax pulled her against him. He held her a little too hard, his grip a little too tight, but Sarah didn’t care. For just a second, she let herself sag against him. Tears stung her eyes.
I didn’t get to Molly. I didn’t save her. And Wade almost died, too!
So much for helping. It seemed as if—once more—she was just surrounded by death.
“I’ve got you,” Jax said. “You’re safe.”
Safe. She never felt safe. Her father had taught her that safety was an illusion. “There is no safe place,” Sarah whispered before she could stop herself.
His hand slid under her chin. He tipped her head back so that she had to gaze into his eyes. “Yes, princess, there is. You’ll always be safe with me.”
She wanted to believe his words.
He scooped her into his arms. “We’re getting you checked out.” He started heading toward an ambulance that had just lurched up to the scene.
Her arms wrapped around his neck. “No, I’m okay,” she protested. She needed to be over there, talking with the cops. Figuring this thing out.
She looked at the building. Two firefighters had just raced into the burning building. Her breath caught. They were going in—trying to find Molly? But how could the other woman possibly survive a blaze like that? It was too hot. Too powerful.
He put her into the back of an ambulance. An EMT whirled toward them. “Check her out,” Jax ordered. “Make sure she’s all right.”
“Just scratches and bruises,” Sarah muttered. “I’m fine.”
Jax braced his legs apart as he stood on the ground behind the ambulance. “Check her out,” he said again, his voice heavy with an unmistakable demand.
The EMT nodded and quickly started asking Sarah questions, one right after the other. She waved him away. “Send someone to my friend Wade.” She pointed to Wade. A big gash was bleeding on his forehead. “He needs more help than I do.”
Another EMT hurried toward Wade.
Sarah tried to sit still as the guy examined her. She knew her injuries weren’t bad. But if Jax hadn’t called her, they would have been. “You saved my life,” she said as she turned her head to look at him.
His face was like stone.
“How did you get Eddie to talk with you?” She’d thought the guy had been adamant about not talking with anyone.
“I’m not a cop, so I didn’t play by the rules.”
No, she rather thought that Jax made up his own rules.
“Ma’am,” the EMT said, drawing her attention. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
She pushed his hand away. “Two. Look, I don’t have a concussion. I’m bruised, but fine.” Actually the shock was wearing off and she was starting to feel more in control.
“There she is,” Jax murmured. “I see you coming back to me.”
Sarah shook her head and kept her focus on the EMT. “What else do you need to do? Can I go now?”
The EMT glanced over at Jax as if it were his decision.
Stifling a sigh, Sarah pushed out of that ambulance. But Jax was there, wrapping his arm around her before she’d even taken a step. “I don’t want you out in the open.”
Because he thought that jerk was still there? No. Sarah shook his head. “He was watching from a distance, playing it safe. He’s not out here.” She was sure of it. Being there—even hiding in the growing crowd of onlookers—would be too risky. And this man . . . she was realizing that he was far more intelligent than she’d originally realized. This guy was no amateur. When it came to killing, he knew exactly what he was doing.
Then she caught sight of Detective West. He was talking with some of the firefighters and frowning up at the burning building. “Detective West!” Sarah called out.
He turned at her call. His eyes widened when he saw her. Then he was rushing to her.
“Molly could be in there!” Sarah called out. “This place—I think he had Molly here.” Actually, she thought Molly had vanished after walking n
ear that building. He either took her inside or he took her away . . . in the car that had been stashed in the alley’s entrance.
“What?” Brent’s brows shot up. “Here? Did you see her?”
“No, but he set that place to blow and if Molly was the bait to lure us in—”
He looked back at the fire and swore. “Then she was bait that didn’t make it out alive.”
Staring at those flames, Sarah shivered.
JAX HELD OPEN the car door for Sarah. She looked so shell-shocked, so pale. He just wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her as long as possible.
What if she’d gone into that building?
Rage grew within him. Someone was fucking with Sarah, and he didn’t like it one bit.
No, actually, they were fucking with Sarah and with him. Because Jax owned that building. The building that could have blown and taken Sarah’s life. He’d bought the place months ago, but hadn’t done a damn thing with it. He’d heard Sarah mention that video cameras had been on the second floor—they sure as shit hadn’t been there when he’d acquired the place.
The cops wouldn’t know the building was his, not yet. He had plenty of corporations set up to mask his identity—plenty of businesses and buildings traced back to the corporations and not to him, personally. Eventually, though, the authorities might track the place back to him. If they searched long and hard enough.
Is that what that bastard out there wants? For me to look guilty?
Jax locked his jaw. He hadn’t told Sarah that he owned that place. And he wouldn’t, not yet. The last thing he wanted was for Sarah to doubt him. For some reason, he wanted her to . . . trust him.
Keeping the truth from her probably wasn’t the best way to build trust. But confess that inferno belonged to him? Yeah, that would be the number one way to get the cops to lock him up—for real, this time.
The cops had asked questions, dozens of them. The firefighters had battled the blaze and extinguished the flames. Now only dark tendrils of smoke drifted into the air.
Had Molly Guthrie been in that fire? The fire marshal wouldn’t be able to tell them, not for a while. And, right then, Jax’s focus was on Sarah, not the missing woman. Sarah looked dead on her feet. He needed to get her someplace safe. Someplace he could protect her.