by Cynthia Eden
Sarah didn’t think Jax was the man they were after, either, and judging by the way Brent West was watching Molly, he didn’t seem to think so, either.
“But . . . but he didn’t have any tats.” Molly rubbed her forehead. “I didn’t see any.”
“Maybe they were covered with makeup,” Cross said quickly. “You can do that. Cover them with makeup or long sleeves. It could still be him!”
Sarah frowned at him. Didn’t he see what was happening? The man they were after was trying to set up Jax. But she wasn’t going to let him take Jax down.
Sarah’s attention turned back to Molly. She was so pale. “It’s going to be all right,” Sarah said. And as soon as those words came out of her mouth, Sarah winced. They were the words people always said when situations were grim. It’s going to be all right. Things will get better. Little lies that were supposed to make others feel better.
Molly looked up at Sarah. “My brother’s dead.”
And my father killed your mother.
Sarah took a step back. She didn’t want Molly to make that connection. Not then. The woman had been through too much.
“He wanted me to—to suffer . . . just like my mother.”
And her mother had suffered.
“I’m sorry,” Sarah told her.
“I don’t have anything. There’s nothing for me . . .” Tears were filling Molly’s eyes and spilling down her cheeks.
Sarah wanted to reach out to her—
But Brent was already there. He brushed back Molly’s hair. “You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. You beat that bastard. You got away. You’re alive.”
Molly stared up at him. “Why do I feel dead?”
“You’re not.” His face was tender as he stared down at her. “You’re a fighter. You’ve been through hell. You lost your brother, so yes, hell, yes, you need to grieve.”
The tears kept sliding down her cheeks.
“But then . . . you’ll keep going. One day at a time. One step at a time. You’ll live. And you’ll see that there are still good things in this world.”
“What if he comes after me again?” Molly whispered.
“Then he’ll find me standing in his way.”
Sarah swallowed and eased from the room. The soft sound of Molly’s sobs followed her, tearing into Sarah with every breath that she took.
My father started this. He took Molly’s mother. He put the chain of events into motion.
Sarah didn’t believe that monsters were born. Not even Murphy. She thought they were made. Actions, environment, shaping and changing an individual until . . .
Either the good within triumphed.
Or the evil inside won.
“You okay?”
She looked up at Carlos’s low, growling voice.
“I need to hurt someone for you?” he asked.
Sarah shook her head. “Everyone’s already hurt enough.” She squared her shoulders. “Jax is at his bar? Shade?”
He nodded.
“Call him.” She didn’t have any clue where her phone was right then. “Tell him to get to the hospital. I think Molly needs to see him.” Then they could clear this up, once and for all.
Carlos pulled out his phone. Sarah waited beside him. Nervous energy filled her. She heard footsteps and glanced over to see Victoria and Wade heading her way. Wade looked tired, but otherwise back to his old self.
“Guess who got sprung?” Victoria said, a wan smile on her lips.
Sarah hugged Wade. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she murmured.
He squeezed her. “Can’t keep me down for long.” He let her go and glanced over at Carlos. A Carlos who was looking increasingly worried. “What’s going on, Sarah?”
“I’m trying to get in touch with Jax.”
Carlos put his phone down. “He didn’t answer.”
“Carlos?” She could tell, by the way he spoke, that something was wrong.
Carlos rubbed at the edge of his scar. “The boss always answers when I call.”
But he wasn’t answering then.
Brent came out of Molly’s room. Sarah grabbed him and practically dragged the detective down the hallway and away from the others.
“Lady, what are you doing?” Brent demanded. “Are you crazy?”
She pushed him into an empty hospital room. Slammed the door. “Call Jax.”
“Uh, what?”
“Call Jax.” She motioned toward his phone. “I know what’s going on with you two, okay? I know you’re the one who tipped him off about Molly’s ID, I know you’re the one who gave him access to Eddie Guthrie. Look, I get it. You’re on his—his payroll.”
Brent stiffened. “The fuck I am. I’ve never taken a bribe and I never will.”
“I don’t care exactly what sort of agreement you two have going on. What matters to me right now is that . . . if you call him, Jax answers, right?” Only he was supposed to answer Carlos, too.
Brent didn’t nod. His face didn’t change expression at all.
“I’m worried something is wrong.” Her guts were twisted in knots. “Just call him, okay? Please?”
Before something happens.
Chapter 13
JAX’S PHONE WAS RINGING AGAIN. HE STARED UP AT the old house, and his gaze slid over the windows. The ones on the first floor were boarded up. The windows on the second floor were covered by old, sagging shutters.
A balcony swept around the side of the place, and big, columns—columns that had once been a bright white but were now a faded gray—supported the structure.
He’d been led to this place. If he went inside, the bastard was supposed to be waiting for him. He’d been told to come without cops. Without backup of any kind.
Did the guy think he was a fool?
He looked down at his phone. Saw Brent’s number this time. Frowning, he picked it up.
“Jax!” Brent’s voice seemed strained. “Where are you and what the hell are you doing?”
He tilted his head back. “Five-oh-eight Dubois Street.” A street with overgrown azaleas and twisted oaks. “And I’m waiting for the cops to arrive.”
“What?”
“The man who took Molly Guthrie may be waiting inside or . . .” Jax exhaled slowly. “Maybe he just thinks I’m a dumbass who will walk straight into a building that’s probably wired to explode if I so much as breathe on the door.”
“Jax, stay where you are, do you understand? I’m on my way!”
He could see police cars rushing down the road. Their sirens weren’t blaring—a good thing. He’d warned them to come in silently, just in case. “Better hurry,” Jax told Brent. “Looks like the show is getting started.”
HE HUMMED AS he positioned his prey. Moving him a bit to the left, because he wanted this picture to be absolutely perfect. He’d sliced with his knife, a drive straight to the fool’s heart. In and out.
Easy.
He wondered when the body would be found. Who would find it. Oh, but he could hardly wait to see what would come next.
His knife tapped on his victim’s face. Then cut through the gag. But the guy wasn’t trying to talk anymore. He wasn’t doing anything.
He was stone-cold dead.
THERE WAS A line of police cruisers leading up to 508 Dubois Street. Lots of cop cars, but, thankfully, no terrible blaze rising into the air.
As soon as Brent braked his car, Sarah leapt out. She could see Carlos in the vehicle behind her. A silent guard who was still shadowing her. Sarah didn’t stop to talk with him. She ran toward the cops, calling, “Jax! Jax!”
“I’m here, Sarah.”
She turned.
He was leaning against the front of a patrol car. Looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. His arms were crossed over his powerful chest. He had on a short-sleeved, white T-shirt, and the shirt stretched over his muscles and contrasted with the dark swirl of his tattoos.
She rushed to him and had one of those instances in which she wasn’t sure if she wanted to y
ell at him for taking such an insane risk or if she just wanted to hug him tight.
But then, she didn’t do either thing. She stumbled to a stop in front of him. Sarah glared up at Jax. “Do you have some kind of death wish?”
One blond brow rose. “Not to my knowledge.”
Not to his . . . Her teeth clenched. “When a psychopath calls you, you don’t run out to confront him yourself!”
He was staring over her shoulder, at the old house. “He wasn’t here.”
Sarah wanted to catch that guy—so badly—but she was glad he hadn’t been there. “Good, that’s why you’re still alive.”
His gaze shifted to focus on her.
“He’s baiting you.”
“He said he would kill you. That he would slice you up, Sarah.” His hands closed around her shoulders. “You think I would let that happen?”
“And do you think I want anything happening to you?” No. “He’s pulling you into this mess because of me. Because he knows that we’re involved and he’s using you in order to get to me—”
“He knows things that he shouldn’t.”
Sarah shook her head.
“About my past.” Jax’s voice lowered. “He knows things that I only told you and your LOST members. The bastard said that if I came here, alone, he’d tell me about my past.”
“He’s lying to you,” she said. Couldn’t Jax see that? “I don’t know how he found out—maybe the jerk put a bug in Gabe’s hotel room—but he wasn’t going to tell you anything.”
“I know that.”
The bomb-sniffing dogs were running around, but they didn’t appear to be catching any scents.
“And he knew,” Jax continued roughly, “that I wasn’t coming over to talk. I was coming over to kill him.”
“Jax . . .”
He smiled at her. “But I changed my mind. I called the cops. I didn’t come armed to send the bastard to hell.”
Her heart was beating too fast.
“And do you know why I did it?”
Sarah shook her head.
“For you. Because I wanted you to think I was more than a fucking killer.” His eyes darkened as he stared at her. “But now I’m wondering, hell, maybe she already thinks that. Everyone else does. What do you see, Sarah, when you look at me?”
She stepped closer to him. “I told you before, I see strength.” Sarah wrapped her arms around him and held tight. “I see the man I want.” A man she was coming to need, more and more, with every moment that passed. “I see you.”
She stayed there with him, her hands linked with his, and she watched as the cops searched the scene. They didn’t turn up any bombs and the man they were looking for wasn’t there.
Maybe he never had been.
Maybe it was all just one of his sick games.
The sun rose, sliding higher and higher into the sky. By the time the cops gave the all-clear, it was close to noon.
And Sarah knew exactly what she had to do. “Will you . . . come with me, Jax?”
“Where?”
“Back to my past. There’s someone there that I have to face.” She didn’t want to see him. Sarah had vowed once that she would never see him again, but, this time, she didn’t have a choice.
It was time for Sarah to visit her dad, Murphy the Monster.
A faint furrow appeared between Jax’s eyes. “But first,” she told him. “We’re going to need to make a little pit stop.”
“ARE YOU SURE about this?” Brent asked Jax as they walked down the hospital corridor. “I mean, yeah, I get that Sarah is keen on you seeing Molly to clear up suspicion, but . . .” He grabbed Jax’s hand. “How do you know that girl won’t start screaming as soon as you walk into the room?”
“I know because I’ve never done anything to hurt her.” And Sarah wanted him to go out of town with her. He couldn’t fly out until the cops cleared him. So . . . time to check in with Molly Guthrie.
“I don’t like this,” Brent said. “I really freaking don’t.”
There were plenty of things that Jax didn’t like right then. The big thing on his list? The crazy SOB who was trying to play games with his life.
Sarah pushed open the door to Molly’s room. Jax squared his shoulders, and then he went inside. Molly was lying down, so still at first that he actually thought she was dead. But then he heard the beep of her machines and she slowly turned her head to look at him.
Her eyes widened. “I . . . remember you.”
“Shit,” Brent muttered. “Here we go . . .”
“You carried . . . me out.” Her lips trembled. “You carried . . . me . . . thank you.”
Jax didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Helpless, he looked Sarah. She mouthed, Go take her hand.
He crossed the room. Touched the slender fingers that had been reaching out to him.
“Th-Thank you . . .” Molly whispered.
He squeezed her hand. “You’re the one who survived that bastard. All I did was run down some stairs.”
Her lips lifted. The smile was weak, but it was there.
When he looked up a few moments later, Sarah had slipped from the room.
“YOU CAN’T BE serious,” Gabe said, glaring at Sarah. “This is the worst idea I’ve ever heard. Don’t do it.”
“Damn bad, Sarah,” Wade echoed. “You don’t need to talk with him. We can figure this out on our own. We always do.”
She’d known they wouldn’t exactly be game-on about her plan to travel to her father’s prison. “I think my dad knows him. He knows who this guy is.”
Gabe’s eyes briefly closed. He’d been stitched up, bandaged up, and then—according to Eve—he’d jumped out of the ER while the docs had their backs turned. Eve had told Sarah that was SEAL mentality. If Gabe wasn’t shot in the heart or head, he wasn’t staying down.
“Knows him?” Wade said. “What . . . you think they killed together?”
“No.” She glanced back over her shoulder. Molly’s door was still shut. She couldn’t be in there with Molly without guilt eating her alive. “I think that he wants revenge on my dad. The same way that Eddie did.” That was actually why she thought the perp had used Eddie. “All of my father’s victims weren’t found.” A stark and sad truth. “I have to get him to tell me about the others because one of those victims . . . our perp is tied to one of them.”
“And you think your dad is just going to offer up this information? Sarah, I know how he got arrested,” Gabe said. His expression held sympathy, a sympathy that just made her feel even more uncomfortable right then. “I know what happened between you. I know—”
“I’ve visited him since then.”
Gabe’s lips parted, but he didn’t speak.
“There is more that you don’t know.” She straightened her spine. “Jax is coming with me.”
“Sarah . . .”
“I think the rest of the team should go back to Atlanta. We found Molly. Your job is done here.”
Wade growled, a low sound of frustration. “And will you be coming back to Atlanta?”
“After I find the man who took Molly.” Once he wasn’t a threat to anyone else, then, yes, she’d be heading home, too.
Wade stepped toward her. “Sarah, we’re not leaving you alone!”
“She’s not alone.”
Sarah glanced back. She hadn’t even heard that door open, but Jax was there.
“She’ll be with me,” Jax said.
“That is not the reassurance I wanted,” Wade muttered.
“Too bad,” Jax threw back. “It’s what you’re getting.” His hand curled around Sarah’s hip.
Wade’s stare dropped to that hand. “Like that, huh?” He shook his head. “Sarah, do you know what you’re doing?” Worry was there. Concern.
I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m protecting my team. “Go back to Atlanta,” she told him and Gabe. “Take the rest of the team and just go back.”
Gabe whistled. “You think he’s coming after us.”
&n
bsp; He’d always been sharp. That was why she’d agreed to work for LOST.
“I think that he’ll do anything to get to me. I think you’ve been shot and Wade nearly wound up dead.” Her chin lifted. “We don’t need to take any more chances. This guy—he’s got a vendetta against me. I won’t let you be risked.”
“But—what? Jax over there can handle the risk?” Wade’s face tightened. “Better than an ex-SEAL and an ex-cop? Better than men who’ve been trained for this shit?”
“I tend to handle myself pretty well,” Jax murmured with a casual shrug. “In any situation.”
“Sonofabitch,” Wade snapped.
Gabe smiled. “I’m sure Jax is well accustomed to danger.” His head inclined. “But I’m not accustomed to abandoning my team when the shit hits the fan.”
“Gabe—”
“When you get back, I’ll be eager to learn what your father had to say.”
Wade was pacing now. “This is such a bad idea.” He pointed at Gabe. “You thought it was a bad idea five minutes ago, too. Only now you’re changing your mind. What? Is everyone going crazy? Everyone but me?”
“If her father knows who this man is, then she has to see him.” Gabe closed the distance between them. As he gazed down at Sarah, his expression softened. “But be careful, and whatever you do, don’t let that asshole get into your mind again.”
Sarah nodded. She’d try. The goal, this time, was for her to get into the mind of her dear old, twisted dad.
“Be safe,” Gabe told her.
Wade stopped his pacing. “Jax, you guard her with your life, understand?”
“Wade, he doesn’t—” Sarah began.
“No one will hurt her,” Jax promised. “Not without going through me.” His words were flat and cold and scary. Sarah knew that he believed exactly what he’d just said, and, from the grudging nod that Wade gave, she knew that he believed Jax, too.
Jax Fontaine was a powerful, dangerous man.
He was also an enemy that you didn’t want to have.
THE ONLY MOTEL close to Biton Penitentiary was little more than a truck stop. Small and old, the place was not exactly where Jax would have preferred to spend the night with Sarah.
But their plane had landed so late that they couldn’t get in the prison then. It was nearing midnight, and this no-tell motel was their only option.