Shattered

by Cynthia Eden

  He was still leaning in close. He didn’t have his seat belt on, and Sarah thought about wrecking the car. Just driving it straight into the nearest pole. He’d fly forward. Probably slam his head into the windshield. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about him but . . .

  Emma could be hurt even worse. Dean loved Emma. So Sarah had to protect her. She kept driving.

  “He went soft for you. Forgetting everything else, everything but you. I knew it was time then. Time to make my move. I’d held back, looking for this moment. Then when Mitch approached me, offering me cash if I just kept him in the loop about Jax’s comings and goings . . . how could I pass up that chance? I knew he wanted to take out Jax, and I thought, hell, yeah, and this way—”

  “You thought you wouldn’t have to get your hands dirty.”

  “If he hadn’t gone soft,” Carlos said, “then he would have seen the threat coming.”

  “No, he just trusted you, and that’s why he never realized the danger was closing in.” But the danger had been there all along, and Carlos had set them up so perfectly—getting Sarah and Emma in the car with him. Insisting that he had to go along with them . . .

  “You saved me before . . .” Sarah reminded him. “At the first fire, you saved me and Wade.” Now he was turning on them?

  Carlos gave a bitter laugh. “Had to do it. Others were with me. Nate and George. They always looked out for Jax. Couldn’t turn with them there.”

  So he’d played the hero? The friend?

  “Not that they matter now, especially Nate.” His voice sharpened. “The dead don’t matter.”

  “Were you ever his friend?” Sarah asked, needing desperately to break through to him.

  “Just drive the damn car.”

  “SARAH’S COMING. LOOKS like she found you, with a little help.” Mitch had left the knife sticking out of Jax’s arm. “Want to know who’s bringing her in to me? You’ll like this part. Ready? Carlos.”

  The guy was lying. Carlos was as close to a brother as he’d ever had.

  “Did you ever wonder why those men were beating the hell out of him in that alley? I did some checking. Turns out Carlos was in their gang. They’d made a heist and, during the middle of that robbery, Carlos had left two guys behind. He wasn’t exactly the kind of guy that could be trusted.”

  But Jax had trusted him. Carlos had been at his side for years—

  “All it took was a little cash, and he told me everything he could about you.” Mitch sighed. “Of course, I did also have to promise to kill you so that Carlos could step out of your shadow. But I’d planned to do that anyway so it was all good for me.” Mitch yanked the knife out. Blood poured down Jax’s arm. He ignored the pain and kept pulling his wrists againsts the rope. All the blood had really slickened his hands.

  He was almost free.

  “He’s bringing Sarah to me, and I’ll start using my knife on her. How long do you think it will be before she starts to beg?”

  SARAH BRAKED IN front of the house on Tibideaux Street. Emma was still out cold. “She needs a doctor,” Sarah said. She unhooked her seat belt, ignoring the sting of that blade, and she leaned over Emma as if she were reaching out to help her. But Sarah’s fingers slid toward the glove compartment. I’ve got to grab the gun—

  Carlos rammed her head into the steering wheel. The horn sounded, a long, desperate cry.

  “Crazy bitch. I saw you put the gun in there.” Then he was climbing out of the car and dragging Sarah with him. Blood trickled from her lip. “Now I need to drop your ass off and get the hell out of here.” He headed for the door. Kept his grip on her. His hand lifted, and he pounded, hard.

  “He’ll kill you,” Sarah said. “Don’t you see? Mitch will . . . turn on you . . .”

  “Nah. I’ve never done anything to him. I’m the one who helped him.” His head lowered toward her ear. “You’re the one he wants to cut into pieces. Turns out, your old man really screwed him over.”

  The door opened. A tall, blond man was there. Had to be Mitch Fontaine. He was grinning at her. He yanked her from Carlos’s arms and—

  Mitch drove his knife right into Carlos’s throat.

  Carlos tried to cry out, but only a gurgle escaped him as he sagged to his knees, with the knife still lodged in him.

  “Keep that one,” Mitch told him with a sneer. “I’ve got another knife. By the way, you aren’t getting paid.” He dragged Sarah fully into the house and slammed the old door shut behind him.

  HE DIDN’T SEE Sarah. Murphy parked the car well down the overgrown road, not wanting the sound of his engine to alert the people who were waiting in the old house. He walked down that lane, keeping to the shadows.

  Sarah’s car was parked near the house. Someone was in that car. A woman, slumped over. He opened the passenger side door, and she fell into his arms. Her black hair was matted with blood. A pretty woman. His hand touched her throat. Her pulse was strong, but the wound on her head was bleeding a little too heavily.

  He eased her back into her seat. That woman’s phone was ringing, again and again. He turned the phone off. Then he searched the car’s interior. When he opened the glove box, Murphy smiled. Ah, Sarah had come ready for battle.

  But what good would the gun do if it was still in the car? He tucked it into his waistband. Then he made his way to the house’s front door. The body was there. A man with a slashing scar. The man who’d gotten into the car with Sarah. That guy had been in the backseat. Murphy frowned and looked back at the vehicle.

  The attractive but unconscious woman was in the front passenger side, and based on the location of her injury . . . He knelt down next to the man. Saw the faint rise and fall of his chest. He wasn’t dead yet, either.

  Murphy’s fingers closed around the knife. The guy’s eyes flew open.

  “You’ll stay alive,” Murphy said, keeping his voice whisper soft, “unless the knife gets pulled out. When it comes out, you’ll die.”

  He could just make out the man’s face in that darkness. Light spilled from inside the house, maybe from candles? Lanterns?

  “You hurt the woman. And don’t lie, because lies just piss me off.”

  The man nodded.

  “Did you hurt Sarah?”

  Again . . . a nod.

  He yanked out the knife. Then Murphy rose and pushed open the door of that house.

  JAX HAD ONE hand free. He just had to get the other out of the ropes, then he could untie his legs—

  “There he is, Sarah, all tied up and waiting.”

  Jax stopped struggling. He looked up and his gaze locked on Sarah. Her eyes had never looked darker. She was afraid, he could see it on her face. He didn’t want Sarah to be afraid.

  “I found you,” Sarah whispered.

  Mitch had the knife at her throat. “Where should we start first?” He yanked up her arm. Shoved the sleeve away from her wrist. “How about right here, a nice long swipe across your— Oh, Sarah . . . someone’s already cut this vein once.”

  Sarah was still staring at Jax. She smiled. “Help’s coming.”

  Jax slammed back against the chair, trying to break those chair legs. Once. Twice. Three times. Again and again.

  “Help won’t arrive in time.” Mitch seemed so certain of that. “I’ve got this place wired. If anyone gets too close . . . boom!”

  Jax felt the give of the rope around his legs.

  “I always loved the fire,” Mitch said. “Your father used to let me set some fires for him, Jax. When he needed to make evidence disappear. That’s why when his place burned, I was more than ready to clear out with Charlene. Figured the cops would try to pin that fire on me.” He yanked on Sarah’s hair, tipping her head back. “ ’Cause no one knew about her freak of a father back then.”

  “Let her go,” Jax shouted.

  “I want to hear her scream.” Then Mitch grabbed for Sarah’s right wrist. “No mark here . . . let’s give you a matched set.”

  Sarah shoved against him, but he sliced open her wr
ist. Her blood dripped down her fingers, coming in a long stream.

  “No!” Jax bellowed. “Fuck it, stop!! Don’t hurt her! You want some payback, then hurt me!”

  Mitch shrugged. “But it does hurt you when I hurt her.”

  He put the bloody knife back against Sarah’s throat.

  “Sarah,” Jax whispered. “I’m sorry.” Sorry for everything. Sorry for being a fool when they’d been at the prison. Sorry for scaring her. Sorry for not telling her how much he loved her until it had been too late.

  Because he’d loved her from nearly the beginning. When he’d looked into a pair of dark eyes and actually seen . . . hope. Something more. A future that he’d never thought to have. He’d loved her, and he would do anything for Sarah.

  Mitch let the edge of the blade trail over Sarah’s collarbone, then down to her chest, resting that tip right between her breasts. “Are you scared, Sarah?” Mitch asked her.

  Sarah didn’t answer.

  He sliced through her shirt. “Are you going to beg?” Mitch demanded. “Beg me to let you live?”

  She shook her head.

  “You will!” Mitch swore. “You will—”

  Her head turned toward him. “You’re going to die soon.” Her voice was cold and flat. “You won’t get out of this house.”

  Mitch hesitated.

  “You should have never come after me or Jax. It’ll be your own fault when you die.”

  “I’m not dying!” Mitch yelled. “You are!” And he drove his fist into Sarah’s jaw.

  “No!” Jax roared. He yanked at the last of those ropes. They tore free and he kicked out of the chair, fighting to untie his legs. Fighting to get to Sarah. But Mitch was over her with that knife. Right over her heart. “Stop! You want someone to beg, then I’ll beg! Don’t kill Sarah! Please, don’t!”

  Mitch kept that knife right at her heart. His head turned and he smiled at Jax. “Beg again . . .”

  Jax was on his feet now. He wanted to run at the bastard, but he needed the man to get away from Sarah. “Mitch, don’t—”

  The blade sank into Sarah’s chest.

  “No! Please, fucking no!” And Jax launched his body at the other man. He slammed into him because if he didn’t do something, Sarah was dead. Jax knew it. She was dead.

  He couldn’t let that happen. No matter what else happened, he needed Sarah to live.

  He grabbed for the knife. There was so much blood on Sarah. And she hadn’t made a sound. No screams. No cries of pain. Not even when the knife had gone into her.

  “She’s gonna die, and so are you!” Mitch swung that knife at Jax.

  Jax caught his wrist, stopping the knife inches from his throat.

  Mitch snarled.

  Jax tightened his grip. He kept tightening it and tightening it until . . .

  Snap.

  The knife hit the floor.

  “Not your neck this time,” Jax said, “but I’ll work my way up there.”

  Mitch head-butted him. Jax fell back, but then he launched forward again, adrenaline and fury giving him strength. He had to get Mitch away from Sarah. Had to take him out. He drove his fist into the man’s face. Again and again and again.

  Mitch just . . . laughed. “Bitch is . . . dying.”

  Jax stopped, his hand poised to slam into Mitch again. “Sarah!” Jax shouted.

  She didn’t answer.

  Mitch was sprawled beneath him, not fighting. Jax glanced over at Sarah. She wasn’t moving. So much blood. “Sarah?” Jax called once more, fear breaking in her name. “Sarah, no!”

  He jumped off Mitch.

  And Mitch surged forward, grabbing for the knife. Swearing, Jax dove for it, too. He caught it right before Mitch could get it. Then Jax drove his foot into Mitch’s side, sending the man rolling back.

  Jax ran to Sarah. The knife was still in his right hand. His left reached down and touched her cheek. “Sarah . . . princess, look at me.”

  Her head turned. Sarah smiled at him. “I would . . . always . . . find you.”

  Fear clawed in his chest. “I’m going to get you out of here.” He leaned over her. “Sarah, I’m going to—”

  Gunfire blasted. At first, Jax didn’t even realize that he’d been hit. He didn’t feel the pain because he was staring into Sarah’s eyes. Sarah’s beautiful eyes. But then he heard her screaming.

  She hadn’t made a sound before, but she was screaming as if in agony now. Over and over and she was screaming—

  His name.

  Jax looked down at his chest. Blood. But I still don’t feel the pain.

  “No one hurts Sarah!” It was a roar that came from just a few feet away. A roar that had come from Murphy Jacobs. “I told you to stay away from her!”

  Sarah was trying to reach out to Jax. Her fingers were nearly touching him. She was crying. He hated for Sarah to be in pain.

  “I . . . love you,” Sarah whispered.

  He wanted to tell her that he loved her, too. He wanted to say that everything was going to be all right. But his body was slumping, and even though he tried to touch Sarah, he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything . . . but fall.

  I love you, Sarah.

  DEAN SLAMMED ON his brakes when he reached the house at the end of Tibideaux Street. He jumped out of his car, checked his weapon, and ran forward. Another vehicle had been parked a few yards back, but it had been empty. Now he could see Sarah’s rental car up ahead and—

  It wasn’t empty.

  Dean staggered to a stop. Right then, his whole life seemed to stop. He hurried to the car and yanked open the passenger door. He’d been calling Emma, over and over, but she hadn’t answered. Now he knew why.

  She sagged against her seat belt, slumping toward him.

  “Baby?” he whispered. She had a huge knot on her head and blood had streamed over the right side of her face. She was breathing—thank Christ. “Baby, please, look at me.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered.

  His heart started beating again.

  “Th-Thought you were . . . the other one . . .” Emma whispered.

  The light from the interior of the car was making them a target. He lifted her into his arms. Shut that door. Plunged them back into darkness.

  “Man . . . came before . . . went after Carlos and Sarah . . .”

  He carried her back to his car. He needed to find Sarah. She was his teammate, but Emma—Emma was his whole fucking life. He had to make sure she was all right. He eased her down behind his car. Dean pulled out his phone. Dialed Gabe as fast as he could. “Screw the house in the bayou, get to Tibideaux Street. Now.” Then he put his gun in Emma’s hands. “I have to check on Sarah.” He tightened his grip around her. “You keep this, and if anyone comes at you . . . baby, you shoot, do you understand?”

  Emma gave a faint nod.

  He leaned forward and kissed her.

  Then he heard the screams.

  SARAH COULDN’T STOP screaming. Jax had been there, reaching for her one moment, then he’d been shot the next. She rolled, crawled to him. Her chest hurt. She hurt, and Jax was too still.

  “He won’t hurt you again.”

  She knew that voice. It was her father’s voice.

  Sarah touched Jax’s chest. The bullet had gone in, blasting fast and deep. “What did you do?”

  “He won’t hurt you.” The wood creaked beneath his footsteps. “Not ever again.”

  Sarah’s shaking fingers touched Jax’s face. “I love him.”

  “Wh-What?”

  “He never hurt me.” Jax’s eyes were open and on hers. “He was protecting me.”

  “Sarah . . .” Jax whispered. “Please, go . . .”

  “Not without you.” Her fingers squeezed his. “I came for you and I won’t leave without you.”

  “Fucking bastard!”

  That yell had Sarah’s head whipping up and she saw Mitch pushing to his feet. He was glaring at Murphy, hate twisting his face. “You’re not getting out . . . you’re not!” Then he pulled a
phone from his pocket. No, not a phone exactly . . . “No one is getting out!”

  Mitch smiled and pressed a button.

  Sarah felt the whole house shake when the bomb went off. She threw her body over Jax’s, trying to protect him as best she could. Then she felt the rush of fire . . . all around her. “I love you,” she whispered.

  DEAN WAS RUNNING toward the house—and it exploded. Fire burst from the front door, sending that wood flying back and into him. Dean was thrown to the ground. He shoved the door off him, stared at the fire, and bellowed, “Sarah!”

  Chapter 18

  SOMEONE WAS HUMMING. SARAH OPENED HER eyes, coughed, choked, and tasted . . . smoke?

  And someone was humming . . . she could hear the tune even above the crackle of the flames. Sarah sat up, shoving aside a chunk of wood that had fallen on her. Fire was streaking up the wall, but she wasn’t burned. She wasn’t, and—

  “Jax!” He was beside her, his hand reaching out, as if he’d touch her. She grabbed his hand, holding tightly to him. “Jax, please!”

  His eyes opened. “Sarah . . .”

  Her breath heaved out. He’s still alive!

  “Was dreaming of you . . .” Jax said. “We were on an island . . . the beach was so hot, it burned you when we walked . . . I picked you up . . .” His fingers tightened on hers. “I took you away . . .”

  “Jax, we have to get out of here.” The smoke was so thick and—where was her father? Was he the one humming?

  Or was that Mitch?

  Didn’t matter. Jax was the reason she was there.

  “My heart’s . . . still beating . . .”

  Her father hadn’t shot him in the heart. She’d realized that. The entry wound was too low, but it could still be a shot that would kill him, if Jax didn’t get help soon.

  “We’re going to stand up, and we’re getting out of here.” Even if they had to walk through the fire. “Do this for me, Jax. For me.”

  His gaze held hers. “I’d do anything . . . for you, Sarah.” Then he pushed up. He moved slowly, and she knew every moment was agony for him. But he rose, and she slid her shoulder under his arm. They started heading for the door. For the flames.