Hold On Tight

by Cynthia Eden

  He’d read the newspaper accounts. He’d been fucking obsessed with her over the last few months, so, of course, he’d wanted to check up on her. And he knew that her father had died. The guy had been killed by a thief right after—

  “You killed my dad. And I hope you rot in jail.”

  The sirens were way too loud now. That meant the cops were far too close.

  He reached out and locked his fingers around Savannah’s wrist.

  “Let me go!”

  “I didn’t kill your father, sweetheart. If that’s what you think, there’s some mistake here.” He tried to keep his voice devoid of emotion. “The guy was alive and well when I left town.”

  A tear leaked down her cheek.

  “And I don’t know who this Agent McNeely is, but I read in the newspaper—I read that your father was killed by a burglar who broke into his house. That’s why your cousin Sam is launching that whole tough-on-crime initiative.” Because Sam had taken her father’s senate seat.

  “Bullshit story. That was just a cover so that you wouldn’t know what was happening.” Her breath heaved out. “McNeely set it up. He set up everything. And he said you’d be back. We just had to wait.”

  Of course, I’m back. Like I could stay away from you. It was impossible to stay away from the woman who haunted his dreams.

  “I waited.” She swallowed. “Get your hand off me.”

  His hold tightened on her. “I didn’t kill your father. I wouldn’t. But don’t think I wasn’t fucking tempted.”

  She gave a quick gasp.

  Fuck me. Wrong thing to say.

  “I wouldn’t hurt him because hurting him would hurt you.” There. That was true. “And I came back because I know you’re in danger. I’m here to protect you.”

  When he’d learned of her father’s death—shit, it had been long after the guy had been buried. Jett had still wanted to immediately run to Savannah, but he’d stayed away. Because I didn’t want to bring danger to her.

  Too late, he’d learned the danger had always been there.

  Surprisingly, she stepped closer to him. So close that their bodies brushed. She tipped back her head, and then Savannah whispered, “Liar, Liar.”

  “Savannah…”

  “You used me. You were behind the kidnapping. McNeely gave me all the details. His team uncovered so much.”

  The McNeely joker was going to be a problem.

  “Patrick was a hitman. An assassin. He sold his services to the highest bidder.”

  Do what?

  “The women he took? He’d been paid to kill them. But Patrick decided to double his earnings by pretending that he’d give his victims back to their families. He didn’t, of course. But he kept both the ransom money and the money he’d earned for the contract kills.”

  “That’s…” Okay, he didn’t know what to say.

  “You didn’t save me. You’re the whole reason I was taken.”

  “No—”

  “You were working with Patrick. All along. McNeely told me.”

  He was going to kick that guy’s lying ass.

  “You wormed your way into my life. My father’s life. You destroyed us both.” She smiled at him. “It’s your turn to be destroyed.”

  Okay, this was going way differently than it had in his mental rehearsals. “You’re wrong. There were things I was keeping from you, things I couldn’t tell you back then—”

  The sirens screamed.

  The cops would be there any moment. He couldn’t let them arrest him. What in the hell would happen if they ran a fingerprint check on him? Hello, dead man standing in front of you. Because of his military history, his records would be in the system.

  Of course, there was also the added problem of this Agent Dickface guy—someone who was going to be a serious problem. I think I’ll have to kill him.

  But one thing at a time. First, hell, first he had to leave her—again. “I’m going to tell you everything this time.”

  “You’re going to—”

  “I’m not going to rot in jail.” He smiled at her. She would probably hate that he thought she was sexy when she was angry. So he didn’t mention that. He did say, “Baby, there’s no cell that can ever hold me.” Not one outside of Lazarus. Normal humans just didn’t have the tech savvy to keep him caged. The cops in Biloxi would not know what they were dealing with—not when he started breaking the cell bars with his bare hands. “I’m going to leave now, but I’ll find you again. And the next time I see you, we’re talking about everything.”

  She shook her head.

  “I’m going to explain who I am.”

  A bitter laugh. “That would be helpful because I know you’re not Jett Bianchi. He died a while back.” Her lips pressed together. Then… “I saw his grave. I took flowers to his grave.”

  Aw, man, that was…thoughtful. Kind. And it made him feel like extra shit. “Thank you.”

  “What?”

  The sirens were too close. “Don’t trust anyone. You understand? You’re being fed lies. And you are in serious danger.” God, he had to do it—

  Jett kissed her.

  She kneed him in the groin.

  He let her go, and Savannah stumbled back. More sand went flying as she turned and ran toward her home—and toward the approaching police cars.

  He started to follow her—

  The damn cops. No, if he followed her, he’d fight with the cops. He’d wind up hurting the cops. And if Savannah saw him hurting the folks in blue, she wouldn’t exactly feel like he was the hero of the story.

  Instead of chasing her, he turned and headed toward the motorcycle that waited on the main road. He’d stashed the bike close by when he’d first sought her out. He rushed toward it, moving fast, so fast. But he glanced back because he had to see her.

  His Savannah. The woman who’d gotten into a killer’s heart.

  She’d turned back, too. Stopped running. For a moment, they just stared at each other.

  Then, testing, he sent a message to her…I will be back for you.

  She stared straight at him. And he heard her voice in his head.

  You come near me again, and I’ll kill you.

  Well, if that was the case, it was probably a very good thing that he could rise from the dead.

  Chapter Eleven

  “He got away.” Jennifer Adams stood just inside of Savannah’s home, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Her holster rested near her hip. “We found motorcycle tracks near the beach, and we’ve got an APB out with the guy’s description. Don’t worry, we are going to catch him.”

  Savannah wrapped her fingers around the mug she held. “He’s pretty hard to catch. Isn’t that the whole reason for this set-up?” The set-up. Her, playing her magic X texting game with Agent McNeely. Cops regularly patrolled on her street, keeping an eye out for the man using Jett’s name. They were always watching, always hunting. Always being vigilant.

  And then their prey had just casually walked down the beach.

  I’ve missed you.

  She turned away from Jennifer and hurried back into the kitchen. She put the mug on the counter-top.

  “A team is going to stay outside,” Jennifer assured her. “Eyes will be on your home all night long.”

  Jennifer wasn’t offering to move her to a safe house. Keeping her hidden wasn’t the objective. No, Agent McNeely and the cops wanted to use her as bait. All along, McNeely had thought Jett would come back for her.

  She still didn’t quite understand why Agent McNeely had been so certain of that fact. But, well, he’d been right.

  Meanwhile, Savannah had been wrong, about so many things.

  “If he makes a move on the house, we’ve got him.”

  Savannah turned toward Jennifer. The two women had become friends over the last few months. When she’d buried her father, Jennifer had been there. Tall, curved, with beautiful ebony skin, Jennifer was one fierce cop. She’d told Savannah stories about taking down men twice her size. Jennifer al
ways told those stories with a certain amount of relish.

  But…

  I don’t think she can take down Jett. And the last thing she wanted was for Jennifer to get hurt. She didn’t want anyone hurt.

  “Do you have the gun I gave you?” Jennifer demanded when the silence stretched a little too long.

  “Yes.” But she didn’t like it. Every time that Savannah looked at the gun, she saw her father.

  Or rather, her father’s head. The same way she’d seen him when she’d finally been taken to view the body. Now she knew exactly why the cops had called it a professional hit.

  Bam. One to the head.

  Nausea rose within her. She grabbed for her crackers. Crackers and chocolate milk. The dinner of champions.

  “We went to the shooting range. You learned how to use that gun. You’re a good shot.” Jennifer’s voice turned harder as she added, “But the gun won’t do you any good if you don’t take it out of the drawer when you’re threatened.”

  Savannah forced herself to choke down a cracker. “I don’t think I can shoot him.”

  Jennifer patted her hand. “It shouldn’t come to that. Like I said, cops are going to be watching. I’ll be on the first shift with my partner. If anything goes so much as bump in here, I’ll be at your door.”

  Savannah knew she was supposed to smile or nod or do something.

  “But you have to be ready to protect yourself.” Jennifer’s face showed her concern. “Just in case. Always remember that your life is more important than anything else, and a woman should never be afraid to fight for herself. You matter. You fight, got it?”

  God, she loved Jennifer. “Thanks. And, yes, I got it.”

  “Good.” Her radio crackled. “I have to get back downstairs, but if you need me, I’m right outside. The bastard is in town. We’ve got every cop in the area searching for him. He will not be escaping again.” Jennifer gave a very hard nod. “I’ll make him pay for what he did to you and your family.”

  Jennifer had lost her father, too. Years ago, in a robbery gone wrong. Her father had run a restaurant on the water. He’d been the only one closing up one night when two teenage boys came in, demanding money. He’d given them everything he had, but one of the boys had still fired his gun before running out.

  Jennifer’s father had died on the way to the hospital.

  Jennifer had finished her last year at Tulane before she’d come home. And entered the police academy.

  Jennifer gave her a hug, and Savannah walked her out. She triple-checked her locks. Made sure her alarm was set. And then Savannah turned to face the house that felt far too empty. Empty and cold. Rubbing her arms, she headed for her bedroom. When Jett had first left, she’d felt him in the bedroom. Smelled him. He’d seemed to surround her. And she’d nearly broken apart.

  She had gotten rid of that bed. Gotten new sheets and covers, too. She’d wanted no memories of him.

  She pushed open her bedroom door. Darkness waited inside, the only illumination coming from the moonlight that spilled in through her glass balcony doors. The doors were shut, locked, but the curtains didn’t cover them, and the faint glow from the moon drifted into her bedroom. A slow sigh escaped Savannah as she stepped into the room. Her gaze slid around her. Everything was just as she’d left it. Everything—

  A hand closed around her mouth. She was grabbed from behind, pulled up against a hard, muscled body. Fear built, surging through her, and Savannah reacted instinctively. Her elbow drove back into her attacker’s stomach. Her right foot slammed down on his.

  Not again. Not again. She couldn’t be taken by someone again. Couldn’t become someone’s prisoner.

  Her hand flew up as she went to grab her assailant’s pinky. She’d snap it. That was what her women’s self-defense coach had taught her—

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” Jett’s voice whispered in her ear.

  Like she was going to believe his lies again? Damn him, damn him.

  But…he let her go.

  She spun to face him. He stood there, the shadows seeming to somehow be extra thick around him. Had he been in her home the whole time that the cops had been searching the beach for him? Had he been in her bedroom while Jennifer had just been steps away?

  Jett held up his hands. “I came here to talk with you. You’re in danger. Serious danger.”

  Was there any other kind? “I’m looking at the danger.” She took three quick steps away from him. He was between her and the bedroom door. But if she ran out onto her balcony—

  “I came to protect you. Not to hurt you. Hurting you has never been part of my agenda.”

  Bull. “You killed my father. You—”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You were working with Patrick all along!”

  A furrow appeared between his brows. “Hell, no. I saved you from him!”

  “Agent McNeely said—”

  His hands dropped. “I don’t know who this Agent Asshole is, but he’s feeding you lies.” A rough exhale. “Probably because he’s either in bed with Project Lazarus or he’s working for someone who wants the secrets that the group holds. Either way, he can’t be trusted.”

  Savannah risked another step away from him. Lazarus. Hadn’t he once said that was the name of his team?

  “I need to tell you some things about myself.” He exhaled again on a long sigh. Seemed to gather his thoughts. “It’s going to sound crazy, but there are things you have to know—”

  “Like your name?” Savannah cut in.

  He blinked. “You know my name.”

  Okay, it took all of her strength not to launch herself at him. You can’t do that. You have other priorities. Like escaping. “Thought we covered this already. The real Jett Bianchi is dead. Agent McNeely told me that. He showed me the death certificate. Showed me photos…” She swallowed. “And, yeah, like I said before, I visited his grave. I put flowers there. I don’t know who you are. I don’t know why you stole his identity, but you belong in jail.”

  And it hurt. So much pain. Because she’d wanted him to be different. She’d needed him to be different. He’d seemed like a hero before.

  Not the villain.

  “I am Jett.” His hands flexed at his sides. “And, yes, Jett Bianchi is dead.”

  Oh, sweet baby Jesus. He was insane. Something she hadn’t factored into the equation. Her hand rose to press over her stomach.

  “I was involved in a secret government testing unit called Project Lazarus. Certain individuals—most with military backgrounds—were brought into the program because Uncle Sam wanted to create perfect weapons. When we died, we were given the Lazarus formula.”

  He was talking crazy. And she knew crazy. After all, she’d once spent months locked in a mental ward.

  “The formula brought us back from death.”

  She laughed. A high-pitched, desperate sound. How can I attract the attention of the cops? Her phone was in the kitchen. Dammit.

  “It’s not a joke, baby. Not even a bad one. It’s the truth. It’s my life.” Once more, his fingers flexed. “I was shot on my final mission with my SEAL team, and when I woke up, I was in a lab. Other Lazarus subjects were there, too—Maddox and Luna.”

  Like she could forget those two.

  “I’ve been with them since the beginning.”

  She bumped into her nightstand. Could she use the lamp as a weapon?

  No, not the lamp. The gun Jennifer had given her was in the nightstand drawer. The gun she hadn’t wanted to use. But this was her life. More than just my life. And she had to do anything to protect what mattered most. Her hands slid behind her back as she positioned her body in front of the drawer. She didn’t want him to notice what she was doing.

  “I’m not like a normal man. That’s how I can communicate psychically with you. I wasn’t in a car accident. Wasn’t born with any sort of special powers. When I was pulled into the Lazarus group, they injected me with a serum that changed me. I can communicate psychically with all of the m
embers of my team. And with you.”

  The gun wasn’t loaded. He wouldn’t know that. The bullets were in the drawer, though. Should she try to load the weapon? Or just bluff her way through and hope she scared him away with an empty gun?

  “I have other powers.”

  Her racing heartbeat seemed to shake her chest.

  “I’m faster than a normal man. That’s how I kept getting in front of you on the beach.”

  She bit her lower lip.

  “I’m stronger. Far stronger. My reflexes are faster. And there are other…bonuses.”

  “Like what?” Her fingers fumbled with the drawer. She was trying to distract him so that he wouldn’t see—

  Shadows swept around him. One minute, he was in front of her bedroom door, and the next, he’d just seemed to vanish. Her gaze slid to the left, to the right, but he wasn’t there. She grabbed the gun and rushed forward. This was her chance to get away.

  His hands closed around her shoulders, stopping her.

  The shadows vanished. The moonlight returned in full force.

  “Powers like that,” he whispered. “I can bend darkness. Use it for concealment. I’m also an amplifier, but that power works best with other Lazarus members. I can make their powers stronger. I can—”

  He looked down.

  She’d pressed the gun to his chest. “Let me go.”

  His hands immediately fell away from her.

  “I’m not going to listen to your lies.”

  “Don’t listen. Watch. Because I don’t think you saw it all before.” And the shadows deepened around him. She was staring straight at him, but the shadows just appeared. Darkness covered him, and he vanished again. Her head whipped to the right and the left. He wasn’t there. She only saw the dark. The moonlight had dimmed. There was nothing. No sign of him.

  “I’ll take that.” His breath blew over her cheek. His hands reached around her and, in a lightning fast move, he took the gun from her hand. He’d somehow gotten behind her, moved without making a sound.