Skin Tight

by Ava Gray

  He rarely spoke to her like this, instead preferring to pretend she could hear him—that she might answer. Usually, he told her about the newest Disney movies and Miley Cyrus, things he imagined she’d care about if she still lived in his world instead of one made of moonlight and dreams.

  “Not for you being born. I’ll never be sorry for that. You were—are—the best and brightest part of me. But for what I permitted to happen to you? Oh, Lexie-love, I’ll never stop suffering for that.”

  Søren kissed her cheek and pushed to his feet. The beep of the machines gave the only reply. Aching as if he’d been beaten, he opened the door and stepped into the hall. Quick strides carried him past the front desk. Debbie didn’t think he noticed the way she watched him, but it would be impossible not to. He paid her no more attention this time as he departed. He knew she thought him a tragic, romantic figure, but there was nothing romantic about loss.

  Grief broke some people. Some, it forged into a glittering weapon. He’d never dreamt the depth of his own determination, until they took everything he had away. And now he lived to make the guilty pay.

  If Mia Sauter thought to stand in his way, well. Right now, he wanted to choke her with his bare hands. He slammed into the G37 and drove with a lead foot to the café. He’d eaten there often. Before he saw his daughter, he couldn’t stomach the thought of food, so most Saturdays he grabbed brunch at Nina’s. It was warm and inviting, done in country blue, and nobody bothered him, either.

  She was waiting for him at a booth near the back, by the restrooms. From the remains on the table, it seemed she’d already eaten and was nursing her coffee. Søren blew past the hostess and sat down across from Mia, with fury streaming in his veins like raw lightning.

  Her hands curled around the pale ceramic of her cup, as if in response to his expression, but she wasn’t a coward. She squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze. “What I’ve done is indefensible. If you’d wanted me to know, you would’ve told me.”

  Took the words right out of my mouth, lady. Damn her for leaving him unable to rail at her. The waitress bustled up. She’d served him before, and she seemed delighted to see he had company.

  “The usual, hon?”

  Surprise flashed across Mia’s face and that irritated him, too. Did she think he never ate? That he lived on fire and vengeance? Righteous fury could only take a man so far.

  “That would be great. Thanks.”

  In answer, the waitress produced a mug and filled it with coffee. Soon, he’d receive a heaping plate from the kitchen, covered in eggs, hash browns, pancakes, bacon, and sausage. And he’d need a snack in a few hours. If she spent any time with him, Mia would soon learn he ate enough for four linebackers.

  By the time Gladys cleared off, the flames had settled in his head somewhat. At least, he no longer wanted to drag Mia out by her hair and strangle her. Honesty prompted him to admit, silently anyway, that part of his rage came from feeling bested. He’d let his guard down, and the results could’ve been disastrous. What if it hadn’t been Mia? What if it had been the Foundation goons? Horror spiked through him. He couldn’t afford to relax.

  “So now you know,” he said tonelessly. “What are you going to do about it?”

  She was too clever; he’d said that all along. But he’d give her a chance to do the right thing; her answer would decide her fate. God knew, he didn’t want to kill her, but if he had to choose between justice for Lexie and Mia Sauter, there was no choice at all.

  “I’m going to help you, of course. I understand everything now.”

  He froze. That wasn’t possible . . . was it?

  “Oh?”

  “I’ve got the big picture. Serrano invested in Micor. Using him as my common link, I did some checking, using my trusty iPhone . . . and everyone who initially invested in that consortium is now deceased.” Her eyes were bright and hard as obsidian. “In some cases, they were unusual and painful deaths. That’s what you’ve been doing. Going Punisher on their asses.”

  Søren neither confirmed nor denied. He raised a brow. “An interesting theory.”

  The waitress brought his food, so he began to eat. If he put it off any longer, he’d get the shakes. He kept his gaze on Mia, who looked gorgeous, tousled, and thoughtful. She took a sip of her coffee, and despite his lingering anger, he found himself watching her lips on the rim of the mug.

  “Micor conducts illegal experiments on human beings,” she went on. “And you’re determined to stop them. I’m speculating now, but I believe they took your daughter. Maybe they took you as well. It would explain your weird . . . ability. Whatever they did to her, it broke something in her, and—”

  “You’re dangerous.” He wanted her to believe she was right.

  But she was uncomfortably close now. For God’s sake, Mia, dig no more. Be satisfied with what you know. It would kill him if she found out the truth—that he was to blame for what had happened to Lexie. Punishing those indirectly responsible had become his sole purpose for living, an obsession that permitted him to retain a sliver of sanity.

  “I won’t ask how you got away . . . or why you didn’t destroy the facility before you ran.” She studied him too closely for comfort. “You were probably weak. Frightened. You just wanted to save your little girl. You weren’t thinking of revenge until you realized . . .”

  Søren permitted himself a cold smile. “That she would never awaken?”

  The compassion in her dark eyes was going to kill him. “Yes. Anyway, I’m so sorry. For everything. But you must know—I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you get the evidence you need to stop them.” She hesitated, laying her hand over his. “I’m glad you’ve realized you can’t just execute everyone involved.”

  She was so close to the truth—and yet so far from the reality of him. His intentions would horrify her; she wouldn’t touch him if she knew. “I appreciate that.”

  In the end, compassion would be her undoing.

  CHAPTER 15

  “So, when are you going to kill me?” Mia asked, as he took a bite of pasta.

  It was Sunday night, and she was surprised he’d returned to the condo. He’d taken off from the diner on Saturday morning after saying he’d be in touch, but she hadn’t expected to see him this soon. Jesus, but she had a lot to think about. Being with him was more complex than she’d ever imagined, probably more complicated than she wanted.

  And yet she’d let him in tonight.

  To his credit, he didn’t choke at the question. He chewed and swallowed before answering, “What makes you think I will?”

  “Don’t I know too much?”

  “And who would you tell?”

  “I could tell Micor you’re not who you say you are.” She studied him for a few seconds, calculating his reaction. “But you already knew that.”

  “That isn’t new. You could’ve done that since day one and you’re still walking, aren’t you?”

  “But now I know the extent of your plans. What makes you sure I won’t turn you in for money? I bet there would be a finder’s fee for you.”

  “More likely they would have you killed for—as you put it—knowing too much.”

  Mia conceded that point, pushing the spaghetti around on her plate as he went on, “And you won’t betray me because you’re a loyal person who believes in justice. You can’t countenance Micor’s continued research any more than I can.”

  “So, you’re saying you trust me.”

  That question stopped him cold.

  “As much as I am capable of trusting anyone,” he said at length.

  “Talk about damning me with faint praise.”

  He finished his food and carried the plate to the sink. “I didn’t mean it that way. Actually, Mia, I didn’t come here tonight to talk about any of this.”

  “No?” Her tone invited elaboration.

  “It’s been a long time since anyone knew me,” he said quietly. “And now . . . you know about Lexie, too. That renders you extraordinary.” />
  She tried—oh, how she tried—not to let his rare gentleness go straight to the heart of her. “You’re saying you came because you couldn’t stay away.”

  Not to lay plans. Not to discuss their next move. Not to fulfill his promise to help her ferret out the embezzler. She could’ve withstood anything but this.

  Not your typical Sunday night.

  “Yes,” he said quietly. “I should be out looking for leads. But this evening, I could only think about how you opened the door Friday night and stood in a circle of light when there was nothing for me but darkness and rain. I wanted that feeling again.”

  Home. Though he hadn’t put it that way, she recognized the yearning for a place where he’d always be welcome. Mia wanted to make all kinds of promises to wipe the blasted look from his eyes, but she couldn’t. So she did the next best thing.

  She hugged him.

  Despite their prior intimacy, he still tensed; she pretended she didn’t notice. Resting her cheek against his chest, she listened to his heart and counted the beats. It took almost thirty before his arms came around her in turn. His heat came as a profound shock in contrast to his untouchable air and mental distance. Sometimes it was easy to forget he was a flesh-and-blood man, not some chimera born of vengeance. Mia half suspected he’d forgotten that fact himself. She wished she didn’t want to reach him so badly; self-preservation told her it would be foolhardy even to try.

  But if she’d made a habit of accepting things instead of fighting for what she wanted, she’d be working as a clerk in a small town in Minnesota. As his hands slid up her back, almost as if he couldn’t stop himself from caressing her, she realized—

  Oh, God, no. Not him.

  Better if she loved unattainable Mark for the rest of her life. She had as much of a chance of making a life with him as with this man. But her heart insisted on Søren. On the surface, it made no sense. She had never collected stray animals or gone looking to heal the wounded. Of all the nice, normal men she’d encountered in her life, why not one of them? Why, why, why?

  For long moments they stood like that while she breathed him in. Cedar and citrus. Doomed this affair might be, but she wasn’t going to pretend any longer. She’d felt something for him a year ago, something real, which was why she’d been so shaken when he betrayed her. Now she understood the reasons behind his decision—the little girl in the hospital bed offered a powerful incentive.

  “There must be rules,” she whispered then. “Can you put work aside when you’re with me? I don’t want to wonder if you’re using me or if you have some hidden agenda.”

  He offered a wry smile. “Like any other couple, you mean?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Very well. I promise.”

  “Then you’re welcome to turn up at my place anytime you like. I’ll always get enough takeout for two.”

  “God,” he breathed. “You have no idea how that makes me feel.”

  In fact, she did. The comforting hug had shifted, and his erection pressed into her belly. Mia restrained the urge to touch him more intimately. There was no question they had great sex, but she was starting to want more. Once he settled the vendetta with Micor—and maybe she could help him do that—he might see he couldn’t spend the rest of his life alone. He wasn’t meant to. She’d never been more certain of anything.

  This man ached to be needed, ached to be part of a whole. He wasn’t a lone wolf, regardless of what life had made of him.

  “The idea someone’s waiting for you?”

  “Not somebody. You.”

  Oh, but he had a way about him. Mia took a deep breath and stepped away. “Let’s see what’s on TV.”

  His expression was comical. “TV. Really?”

  “What did you have in mind? Naked Twister?” She grinned over her shoulder as she headed for the living room.

  “If only,” he said mournfully. “But I forgot the oil.”

  Mia froze, hand on the remote, eyes wide. “Was that . . . a joke?”

  “I’m rusty . . . and I might need to check Merriam-Webster to confirm, but . . . yes. I think it might’ve been.” He followed her, settling on the middle of the couch.

  She dropped down on his right, turning on the TV with a flick of her thumb. “So Lifetime or Hallmark?”

  “You’re a vicious, vicious woman.”

  “You have no idea.”

  That was true. It was funny how much she’d confided while still maintaining most of her secrets. He probably didn’t even think she had any.

  While she was thinking, he plucked the remote away and wrapped an arm around her, tugging her close. “News first?”

  The possessive move pleased her so much she’d have agreed to watch The Three Stooges. And she really hated the Stooges.

  The local news had a perky blonde and a serious middle-aged man as anchors, giving out the bad tidings in digestible tidbits. Mia zoned through most of the gloom and doom. She had a pretty low tolerance for depressing information. Since she had family there—family who hated her, but family nonetheless—it was especially hard to hear about the Middle East. She was sorry the world was such a hellhole, but she didn’t see how becoming suicidal over it would help anyone.

  So it was Søren’s tension that signaled her to pay attention more than the newscaster’s remarks. As if Mia had been chattering, he turned the TV up, his knuckles white on the remote.

  “Police are puzzled by the discovery of the body of an unidentified female. Thus far, they have been unable to confirm her identity because of the severe burns, which doctors state are consistent with exposure to radiation.” The report cut smoothly to a canned interview of an elderly doctor, shaking his head in puzzlement. “The only time I’ve ever seen anything comparable was in pictures from Chernobyl.”

  The perky blonde added, “Anyone who may have information regarding our Jane Doe is implored to come forward. Now for sports! Ted?”

  “That means something to you.” She already knew it was true.

  He sloughed relaxation and levity like a skin grown too small. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have to go.”

  “Did you know her?”

  “No, but I’m sure I know who killed her, and this is the first clue I’ve come across in months.” He hesitated as if he’d kiss her good-bye and then added unwillingly, “Fancy a trip to the morgue?”

  Surprise spiked through her, but Mia pushed to her feet. “Oh, undoubtedly. You give great date.”

  While she got ready, Søren borrowed her laptop to devise a plausible cover story.

  Ten minutes later, they were out the door. He let her drive. This was unusual, to say the least, but Mia might come in handy.

  The trip passed in relative silence. He guessed she knew the weight of his choice to take her along and didn’t want to give him second thoughts by chattering. She turned into the hospital lot, parked, and shifted to regard him. “Do you know where we’re going?”

  “Down. The morgue is always in the basement.”

  “Comforting,” she muttered, climbing out of the car.

  “Isn’t it just? Let me do the talking.”

  “Obviously. I’m new to this.”

  Søren led the way to the doors, where he exchanged a few words with the woman at the information desk. She pointed them down a hall, offering directions and her condolences. He nodded and headed off. The corridors were quiet and smelled of antiseptic. Now and then, they passed someone in scrubs.

  As promised, there was a lift nestled back there. They took it down to the lower levels, where the halls seemed darker, despite the fluorescent lights overhead. He sensed Mia staying closer at his back, responding to the chill.

  After passing a set of double doors, they came to a desk, where a slight, blond man worked at a computer. His name tag read “Jeremy.” He glanced up, a little irritated to see them. “Can I help you?”

  Doubtless he thought they were in the wrong department. The guy probably gave directions a lot.

&n
bsp; “We saw on the news that you have a Jane Doe. I came to see if it’s my sister.” He felt no shame in the lie, using false grief as grease to get what he wanted.

  Sympathy softened the impatience in the man’s expression. “Oh, I’m sorry. When did she go missing?”

  “About three months ago.” He hesitated and then added, “Jennifer had a history of mental illness.”

  “I’m afraid you can’t ID her on sight. She’s in pretty bad shape.” The attendant was trying to spare him pain.

  Fortunately, he was prepared for that. “Yes, I gathered as much from the broadcast. Perhaps I could look at her personal effects? She always wore our mother’s ring.”

  “I don’t see why not. I have it bagged up and waiting to be claimed by the next of kin. Come to think of it, she did have a ring . . . and a pendant. I can’t remember what else.”

  Silently, Mia took Søren’s hand, which was a nice touch. They waited at the desk until Jeremy returned, but he was frowning.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s the weirdest thing. Her stuff is gone.”

  “Did the police take it as evidence?” Søren asked.

  The other man shrugged. “Could be, I guess, but there should be a record. Maybe the day guy didn’t log it properly. I’m really sorry you came all this way for nothing. If you leave your name and number, I can have someone call you in the morning.”

  That would be risky. Søren wondered if the payoff would be worth it. Still, it would raise red flags if he declined. “I’m Jason Markham,” he said, deciding swiftly. “I’ll write down my cell number for you. Call me if you find anything out.”

  Before he could say farewell, Mia spoke. “Could we see her? Just for a moment. It would give Jase some comfort that he did everything he could.”

  Jeremy hesitated. “I don’t think it’ll help, but I can give you five minutes. I need you both to sign in and I need to see some ID.”