Deadly Lies

by Cynthia Eden

  The knife swung again and sliced across Max’s arm as he tried to hold off his brother.

  Bile rose in his throat but Max managed to dodge the next blow. He grabbed Quinlan’s wrist, holding tight, keeping the blade up and away from his face. “You need help! Don’t you see that?”

  Samantha rose to her feet behind Quinlan. She dove into the car, and Max knew that she was going for the other gun.

  “You weren’t always like this,” Max whispered, wishing it had been different, wishing everything had just been different. “You weren’t a killer—”

  “But you were.” The knife glinted. “And Frank thought you were perfect.” The blade was inches from Max’s face.

  Max shoved up and managed to heave his brother back.

  “You won’t be perfect when I’m finished,” Quinlan promised as he launched himself at Max. They slammed onto the earth.

  Max tried to hold his brother tight but his hands were slick with blood, and Quinlan was twisting and fighting beneath him. Rolling, Quinlan rose with the blade.

  Quinlan’s gaze met Max’s. Then his stepbrother smiled and thrust the knife into Max’s stomach.

  “No!” Samantha screamed.

  Max slumped back on the ground, and a cold wind touched his skin.

  “Max!” Samantha’s desperate voice rose above Quinlan’s laughter.

  Max could have sworn that he heard the wail of sirens in the distance.

  Quinlan licked his lips. “It’s mine—every bit was mine… and I was sick of waiting for that bastard to die.”

  Max shook his head and gathered his strength. The blade would be coming at him again, and he had to be ready.

  “Drop it,” came Samantha’s furious, shaking voice. “Drop it, Quinlan, or I swear I’ll put a bullet through your heart.”

  CHAPTER Eighteen

  Fear shook her body, but Sam held the gun rock steady. Max was barely moving. So much blood. And that prick with the knife wasn’t going to hurt him again. He wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

  “It’s over,” Sam said, creeping closer.

  “No…” Quinlan’s voice was soft. “It’s just beginning.”

  Not for you. Because this gun wouldn’t jam. Sam took another cautious step forward. “You hear those sirens?”

  And his head snapped up as he actually seemed to hear their wails for the first time.

  “It’s the SSD. They’re coming for you.”

  Quinlan rose and faced her head on. That’s right. Step away from Max. The sirens were so close. Hurry.

  Max pushed up to his knees. She didn’t let her gaze dart to him because Quinlan still had a knife, and he was edging closer to her. “It’s over,” Sam said again.

  “Bitch!” Then Quinlan seemed to crack right before her eyes. He screamed and lunged at her with fingers tight around the knife.

  “Samantha!” Max’s shout. Her gaze flew to him. His eyes were full of terror and fury. As he struggled to his feet, Sam saw that his lips were moving but she couldn’t clearly hear what he was yelling because the sirens were screeching so loudly now and Quinlan was screaming as he—

  “It’s over,” she whispered and pulled the trigger. The bullet slammed into Quinlan—not his heart but his arm, the arm that held the knife. He howled in pain as the knife flew from his fingers and slid down the embankment.

  “No!” he bellowed.

  Sam watched as he wrapped his fingers around the wound.

  Brakes squealed as the squad cars and unmarked SSD vehicles swarmed into the area. Backup had arrived.

  She didn’t lower her gun, though. She kept it aimed right at Quinlan. “It’s not going to be that easy,” she told him, her voice soft. No death by cop for him. He’d pay for his crimes.

  “Sam!” Hyde’s yell, and she’d never been so happy to hear that man’s voice in her whole life.

  “Get an ambulance,” she called, trembling. The icy water had robbed her of every last bit of warmth, and each time she spoke, puffs of white appeared before her mouth.

  Quinlan’s head dropped. “Not ending like this! Not ending like—”

  The agents closed in on him. “Quinlan Malone,” Luke Dante’s voice snapped out, “you’re under arrest.”

  Sam’s breath expelled in a hard rush. Max. She lowered the gun and tried to force her fingers to ease their too-tight grip on the weapon. They hurt. Every part of her hurt. And Max, oh, God, Max, all that blood—

  “Easy.” Hyde was there, standing right in front of her. He pried the gun from her fingers. “Agent Kennedy… Sam, are you all right?”

  Her teeth were chattering. The bone-deep cold shook every part of her body. “M-Max…” He was the only thing that mattered to her right then. He’d gone into the water for her. He’d actually used his own body as a shield to protect her.

  Been willing to die, for me.

  And she’d been more than willing to kill for him.

  She hurried over and fell to her knees beside him. His eyes were open. So blue.

  She touched his cheek.

  “Get the EMTs over here now!” Hyde barked.

  “You can’t do this!” Quinlan yelled. “I’m the victim, I’m—”

  “You’re a killer,” Dante said, the words drifting to her.

  Sam leaned in close to Max. His skin was so pale, and the same shudders that shook her body were shaking his. Too cold. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “We’re safe now.”

  Safe. But death had come so close.

  Hands pulled at her, trying to tug her away from Max. The EMTs. She let him go even as tears tracked down her cheeks.

  Then she was being guided to a stretcher. One of the EMTs started probing her wounds, and lights flashed in a red-and-blue whirl around her.

  Voices droned on, but she could only clearly hear the chatter of her teeth and the fast beat of her heart.

  They loaded her into the ambulance, covered her in blankets and secured her in the back. The EMTs pushed Max in next to her. Max’s head turned, and his gaze met hers.

  Someone slammed the back doors.

  Max’s hand lifted and reached for her. She caught his fingers, held tight. When the ambulance lurched forward, she didn’t let go.

  She never wanted to let go.

  “M-Max, I love you,” she whispered, needing to say the words, desperate to say them. But his lashes had fallen shut, and she knew he hadn’t heard her.

  Patching Sam up was easy. The cuts on her face just needed cleaning and bandages. Her right wrist was set and put in a splint, and the docs put fifteen stitches in her left arm. They bundled her up, got her body temperature back on track, and she finally managed to stop shaking.

  And started demanding to see Max.

  But it wasn’t as easy to patch him back up. Two hours later, Sam was still waiting to see him. Fear tightened her insides. Be all right. You have to be—

  A knock rapped at her door.

  “Come in!” If her visitor was a nurse then she could grill her for information about Max.

  Special Agent Kenton Lake popped his dark head in the room. “Kenton?” she whispered. “What are you doing here?” Shouldn’t he be off doing a news interview? Wrapping up this mess and making the SSD look good?

  He flashed her a wide smile. It was the same smile that had—once upon a time—made her heart flutter.

  “Couldn’t leave without seeing you.” Kenton ambled inside and pushed the door closed behind him. “Damn, woman, when I heard about the scene with Malone…” Running a quick hand through his hair, he approached the bed.

  When the Watchman had taken her and played his twisted game, Kenton had been there. When she’d opened her eyes, choking on water and struggling for breath, he’d been the first person she’d seen.

  He’d also seen her, later, in the hospital. He’d seen her when she broke down, sobbing until the doctors had to drug her. He hadn’t told anyone about that. Kenton was a man who knew how to keep secrets.

  But he hadn’t been the
man to keep her heart. They’d dated, just casually, but he’d never made her need, never made her feel, like Max did.

  His gaze raked her. “You look like hell.”

  Ah, Kenton, always the sweet talker. Actually, he usually was a sweet talker. “I feel like it.” She tried to push up in the bed. Her wrist immediately protested, and a gasp broke from her lips. “They won’t tell me anything.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “Max,” she sighed his name. “I need to know how he is.”

  Kenton’s gaze was too watchful. “Malone’s brother?”

  She nodded.

  “You care about him, don’t you?”

  Stop being afraid. “I’m in love with him.” And she’d tell him as soon as he could hear her.

  Kenton sucked in a deep breath. “They brought Quinlan down to the office. I, uh, think there’s something you should know.”

  A nurse bustled in without knocking. “Ms. Kennedy? Max Ridgeway’s out of surgery. Dr. Gretchen said I could take you to see him—just for a few minutes—if you felt up to it.” She pulled a wheelchair into the room behind her.

  Up to it? Nothing would keep her out of his room. Sam’s left hand shoved back the covers, and she ignored the pain as she tried to get up.

  Kenton leaned over her. “Wait.”

  No, there was no waiting. “I need to see him.”

  But he didn’t move. “It’s hard when you care, isn’t it? When someone else’s life matters more than your own.”

  No, it wasn’t hard. It was freaking terrifying.

  “But you have to be careful, Sam. Just because you love someone, it doesn’t mean they’re perfect.”

  What was he talking about? She knew Max wasn’t perfect. She loved him because he wasn’t. He was real, solid, strong, and ready to take on hell for her. A woman couldn’t ask for more. Perfection could wait.

  “Quinlan says…” Kenton leaned in even closer to her and dropped his voice so that the nurse couldn’t overhear his words. “Quinlan is saying that Ridgeway was in on the kidnappings from the very beginning. He says they planned everything together and that Max only changed the plan because he fell for you.”

  She shook her head. “No, no, Max wouldn’t do that—”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” She wasn’t going to listen to any more. I need Max.

  Kenton inclined his head in a grim nod. “You trust him that much?”

  “I do.” She’d seen the sick horror on Max’s face. The fury when he realized just what his brother had done. No, Max hadn’t been in on the crimes, no matter what crap his brother was spewing. Max wasn’t like Quinlan.

  Not evil.

  She climbed carefully from the bed, but shook her head at the nurse. “I don’t need that chair. Just tell me where he is.” I’m coming, Max.

  The nurse blinked. “Room… ah… 212, just down the hallway.”

  Sam kept her head up and her spine straight as she walked.

  “Sam!”

  She glanced back at Kenton’s cry.

  “You did good on this one. Damn good.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I always knew you had a core of steel. You walked through hell, and it just made you stronger.” His lips lifted the faintest bit. “You didn’t break.”

  She knew he’d been through his own nightmare. The man had walked through fire on his last case with the SSD. She forced a smile to her lips. “Neither did you.”

  “And we’re stronger for it. Remember that. You’re not weak, Sam, and you never have been.” Because he knew her well. “You beat that bastard before, and you beat this one, too.”

  Yes, she had. But she’d had help. A man who’d willingly stepped between her and a killer.

  How was a woman supposed to walk away from a guy like that?

  She wasn’t. She was supposed to stay with him, screw what came, and fight like crazy for a future.

  The machines surrounding Max beeped and whirred. His face was pale, and his lips were still tinged a bit blue. Bandages covered most of his upper body and mid-section.

  “It took a long time to close those wounds,” the young doctor beside her murmured. “Someone sure did a number on him.”

  Sam’s hand reached for Max’s. “How long until he’s awake?”

  “He’ll drift in and out for a while, but he needs to sleep. After all that blood loss, he needs to rest.” The doctor slanted her an assessing glance. “So do you.”

  She saw the redness in his eyes. Another long night for the doc. “There’s a chair right here. I’ll be fine.”

  His lips tightened but he gave a curt nod. “Anyone we need to notify? Family?”

  Someone sure did a number on him. “His family knows.”

  He closed his clipboard. “All right then, when your boyfriend opens his eyes, let him know that he’s lucky. Very lucky. The shot in his thigh nicked an artery but the cold water slowed down the bleeding. If the vessels hadn’t constricted…” He trailed off and shook his head. “Going into the water saved his life.”

  “No.” Her fingers tightened around Max’s. “When he went into the water, he saved my life.”

  The door clicked shut behind the doctor. Sam used her foot to pull the chair closer to the bed, and then she sat, holding tight to Max’s hand. The night stretched before her, long and dark.

  The darkness didn’t scare her. Never had. And even the cold embrace of the water hadn’t stirred the terror. But the moment when she’d thought Max was lost to her, when Quinlan had closed in with that knife…

  Fear choked me.

  “Wake up,” she whispered to him, leaning closer to the bed. “I need to tell—”

  His lashes fluttered, and Sam stilled. “Max?”

  The beeping grew faster. A groan escaped his lips.

  Max. She squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, you’re safe. Do you hear me, Max? You’re safe. You’re in a hospital, everything’s fine and—”

  His lips moved. A soundless whisper.

  “I couldn’t—Max, I couldn’t hear you.”

  His lashes cracked open. His eyes met hers. “Kill… him…”

  Those words—they were the same words that he’d yelled to her when Quinlan had lunged at her with the knife. Her life versus Quinlan’s. Max had chosen.

  But she hadn’t made the kill. “I didn’t have to,” she said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his face. “The SSD came. They took him into custody.”

  His gaze looked so weak. She wasn’t even sure if he could focus on her.

  “He won’t hurt anyone else,” she promised him. “He’ll be…”

  “Cage…”

  And she remembered the words she’d said to him so long ago. They belong in cages, far away from innocent people. She swallowed to ease the lump in her throat. “He’s going to prison. The SSD will make sure he doesn’t get out any time soon.”

  Max’s eyes fluttered closed. “Over.”

  “For him.” It hurt to see the pain on his face. The only remaining member of his family had been a psychotic bastard who’d tried to kill him. “Not for you though, Max. You’re going to be okay, do you hear me? The doctors patched you up, and you’re going to be fine. For you, everything’s just beginning.”

  Max woke up in a cold sweat, his body shuddering and Samantha’s name on his lips.

  “Shh… it’s okay.” Her whisper came to him in the darkness, and it took him a moment to understand….

  Not in the hospital. After nearly seven days, he’d finally been released. He hadn’t gone back to Frank’s place—he couldn’t stand the thought of that—and Samantha hadn’t wanted him to be alone.

  Her place. Her scent surrounded him, her soft bed cushioned him, and the feather-light weight of her hand pressed against his chest. “It’s just a dream,” she told him. “You’re safe. It’s over.”

  He’d been back at that river. Quinlan had been there, firing his gun, and Max hadn’t been able to get to Samantha. Her body had floated to the surf
ace. And he’d lost her.

  He rolled, wrapping his arms around her and holding tight.

  “Max, no, your stitches!”

  Screw them. The pain just made him realize that he was alive. She was alive. And he’d be damned if he lost his chance with her.

  His lips found hers in the darkness, and he kissed her with a desperate desire that fired his blood. A need only she could satisfy. She’d slipped past his guard, gotten under his skin, and he knew he’d never be the same without her.

  But her hands were pushing against him, not holding him close, and the ache ripped through him.

  “You’ll hurt yourself,” her husky whisper filled his ears.

  “Not having you will hurt a lot more.” Didn’t she understand? Lust tightened his body. His cock was already hard and swollen, but the need for her was so much more. A hollow ache inside his chest.

  Need her. Flesh to flesh. Want her. All that she is. Everything.

  Her hands pushed him, and Max found himself flat on his back.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, the words drifting in the dark, and a rough laugh built in his chest.

  “You won’t.” Unless she left.

  The sheets rustled, the cool air hit his legs, and then warm flesh was above him as she straddled his hips. Samantha was careful not to jostle his healing leg or to touch the wounds on his stomach.

  She stared down at him, and in the faint moonlight, he could see the darkness of her eyes.

  No panties. Her legs were spread, and his cock pushed against the hot core of her body. His hand slipped between them, found the center of her need, and his fingers stroked her. Max wanted her to be as ready, as desperate, as he was.

  She arched against him, and a soft moan slipped past her lips. Not good enough.

  His thumb pressed harder. Her hips pushed back against him. Max found the tight opening of her body and thrust two fingers inside. Proof of her arousal coated his fingers.

  His fingers worked her body. Max touched her the way he knew she liked. Building the arousal. Pushing her to the edge. Her sex clamped around his fingers. The delicate muscles squeezed in a strong grip, and he wanted her around his cock. Wanted to be driving deep into her. So deep that she’d never be free of him. So deep that she’d know, always, that she was…