by Cynthia Eden
Cops were…they were safe. They were the ones you were supposed to turn to when things got crazy. Or when you’d been, you know, kidnapped.
She took a deep breath. Then four more. And tried to think this mess through.
Jett had saved her from those jerks at the old house. He was the good guy, wasn’t he?
He wouldn’t let me call my family.
He never left me alone at the hospital so I couldn’t talk privately with anyone.
And we may be rushing away in a stolen car.
“Why are you afraid?” Jett’s voice filled the interior of the vehicle. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
She swallowed, twice. She was afraid…of him. “I think you should put me out at the nearest police station.”
“Not happening.”
Shit. Not good. “Why not?”
“Because that wouldn’t be safe.”
“The police aren’t safe?”
“You are too damn trusting,” he rasped.
Yes, she’d figured that out when her lover had kidnapped her. And maybe she’d jumped on the Jett bandwagon too fast. “How do I know you’re good?”
Silence.
He turned the vehicle to the left. She could see nothing but darkness. “I saved you,” Jett spoke in a flat, hard voice, “didn’t I?”
Right. Yes. But… “Why won’t you just let me go?”
“Because I can’t.”
That wasn’t a very good answer.
Her fingers slid toward the door handle.
“Baby, if you jump from this car, you will hurt yourself. Then I’ll just have to go back and threaten that doc again so he can patch you up.” His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. “And I’ll get really pissed if you’re hurt. Really, really pissed.”
She was sweating, her heart was racing, and the idea of slamming into the pavement while wearing a paper gown wasn’t exactly high on her list of fun activities, but she wasn’t about to trade one hell for another. “I want to talk to my family. Right now.” She had to get some proof that she could trust Jett. “If you don’t mean me any harm—”
“If I meant you harm, would I have taken you to the hospital?”
Uh—no—
“If I meant you harm, would I have busted you out of that house in the first place?”
“You killed a man. I saw you do it. You killed without any hesitation.” She wasn’t backing down. “I don’t know you. The only thing I know about you—it’s that you can kill really, really well.” Yes, she’d just thrown his really, really back at him.
“I can kill well because I’m a former Navy SEAL. I was trained by the best.” He turned the SUV again, and they headed toward what looked like an old garage. A security gate blocked the garage. He rolled down his window and reached out toward a keypad.
Navy SEAL. Should she buy that? Or should she run? Savannah fumbled with the door handle—
His hand flew out and circled around her wrist. “I know you’ve had one hell of a week.”
Understatement.
“And I’m sorry about killing the guy in front of you. That was probably bad.”
Probably?
“But he would have killed me. It was a survival situation. He was the bad guy.”
The gate was opening.
And Jett was still holding her wrist, above the bandages, being careful not to touch her bruises or to hurt her anymore.
“My mission is to protect you. I don’t know who all is involved in the kidnapping ring. I don’t know who I can trust. It’s suspected that the local authorities may be involved because no one has made any progress catching these assholes. Until I know who I can trust, until I know you’re safe, I have to keep you close.”
He drove forward. The gate closed behind them. A moment later, the garage door was sliding open, and he drove the SUV inside. When the garage door closed behind them, the sound seemed very, very loud.
He was still holding her wrist. Still touching her. Still absolutely unnerving her.
“There’s a phone inside. It’s untraceable. My team set it up—they secured this whole place for us. You can use that phone. You can call your family, but you can’t tell them where we are.”
Easy enough. She wasn’t sure where they were.
“I need you to trust me.”
He didn’t get it. She’d trusted Patrick—then she’d woken up tied to a chair. With her past, it had never been easy to trust anyone.
He flashed her a quick smile. “I know that you’ve been through hell, but I promise you, my only goal is to keep you safe.”
“You’re the good guy, right?”
His smile slid away. “I’m the guy who will destroy anyone who tries to hurt you.”
Did that count as a yes or no?
“Fresh clothes are waiting for you inside.”
She opened her door and felt a distinct breeze against her ass. Wonderful. Now she was probably giving Jett a show, on top of everything else. Savannah threw a desperate glance over her shoulder.
Jett wasn’t staring at her bare ass. He exited the SUV. A moment later, he hurried around the front of the SUV, and he took her arm, helping to steady her. She’d been plenty steady, but she didn’t protest. Just, well—because.
They walked toward a set of stairs. The place was one hell of a lot bigger on the inside than the exterior had led her to believe. After biting her lower lip as she thought for a moment, Savannah asked, “Is this a safe house?”
“Of sorts.” He didn’t let go of her on the stairs. Her feet were covered in socks that they’d given her at the hospital, and she could feel the cold metal of the steps through the thin material. “We’re off-grid here. Maddox and Andreas will be rendezvousing with us soon.”
Andreas. “I don’t remember seeing Andreas.” He must have been the team member that Maddox had gone back to get.
“That’s because he was working outside the house when I went to secure you. Don’t worry, he’ll be here soon enough.” The door in front of them had a keypad instead of a lock, and Jett typed in a quick code. There was a soft click, and then the door opened. He ushered her inside. “The bedroom is to the right. There are clothes in there. Or, if you want, you can just put on a robe and ditch the hospital gown.”
“You bought clothes for me.” Before he’d rescued her? Something else odd. Something else that unnerved her.
“No, we picked up clothes from your place for you. We thought you’d prefer your stuff.”
She did. Her gaze cut toward him. “What about the stuff at the hospital?” Her bloody, dirty clothes. “They’ll probably turn all of that over to the police, won’t they? They’ll—”
“They can’t turn over something they don’t have. Don’t worry. I took care of things there.”
She was worrying, a lot. But she was tired of wearing paper so she headed for the bedroom he’d indicated. She walked through what looked like a small den. Saw a kitchenette to the side. A bathroom.
“Do you need help dressing?” His voice stopped her when she was at the bedroom door.
Her hand rose and gripped the door frame. “I’m good.” Even if she wasn’t, Savannah wouldn’t be getting naked in front of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerous. She looked back over her shoulder at him. “When I’m dressed, I will be calling my family.”
“Absolutely.”
Right. She stepped forward—
And felt another draft.
“Baby, you have got one killer ass.”
She slammed the door shut behind her.
***
He probably should have kept that last comment to himself. But her ass truly was stellar.
And this isn’t the time to go lusting after the mission target.
Jett raked his hand through his hair. There was just something about her. He’d felt a connection from the moment he saw her photograph. And when he’d actually gotten close to her, when he’d touched her…
Desire had ignited. A consuming, white-hot lust th
at he’d never expected. One he sure as hell shouldn’t be feeling when he was in the middle of a mission. She had a concussion, for shit’s sake.
She didn’t need him lusting after her on top of everything else.
He could hear the faint rustles of sound from the bedroom. She was changing. Sliding out of the hospital gown that had revealed far too much, and, God willing, covering way, way up.
He hadn’t heard from Maddox or Andreas yet. And that wasn’t a good sign. They should have checked in by now. With every moment that passed, more tension slid down his spine.
He tried reaching out on the psychic link he shared with Maddox. Can you hear me, buddy? What in the hell is happening?
Silence. Emptiness. No response at all. Just—
The bedroom door flew open. “What do you mean, what in the hell is happening? I’m changing, you knew that.” Savannah frowned at him. “Why were you yelling at me?”
She’d put on jeans and a white t-shirt. Her feet were bare, her toes curling against the floor. Her hair was loose over her shoulders, her eyes wide and deep, and—
Problem. Serious fucking problem. No one had bothered to brief him on the fact that Savannah Jacobs was psychic. And since she’d just somehow picked up on the link he’d formed with Maddox—shit, she might be able to hear all of the team’s psychic communication.
Going dark. He shot out that psychic message hard and fast. Line is not secure.
She rubbed her temple. “What line isn’t secure? What are you even talking about?”
She thought he was talking. Did she not understand her own powers? Or was something else at play? He’d never met anyone with psychic skills, not outside of Lazarus. Suddenly, this mission was looking a whole lot darker. He stalked toward her, caught her hand, and pulled it away from her temple.
“We’re not as secure as we thought,” Jett murmured. His fingers stroked along her wrist, just above her bandages.
“What?” Her gaze darted around him. “Is someone else here? Are we in danger?”
He didn’t know what was happening, not just yet. But his inner alarms were blaring, and he realized that Savannah’s wide, innocent gaze might actually be hiding plenty of secrets. “I will protect you,” he promised, “but you have to be honest with me. Understand?”
She gave a quick nod.
“No secrets.”
Her gaze slid away from his. And his suspicions deepened.
“I, um, I really need to call my family,” Savannah told him. “I need to make that call now.”
He let go of her hand. Backed away. In silence, he took a secure, burner phone from the nearby desk. As he handed it to her, Jett said, “Call them. But don’t tell them where we are. Don’t tell them anything about me.”
Her fingers trembled a little as she took the phone. She dialed quickly and put the phone to her ear.
“No, baby.” The endearment slipped out. “On speaker.”
She lowered the phone. Her finger swept over the screen, and a ringing filled the room.
One ring.
Two.
Thr—
“Hello?”
“Dad?” Savannah’s voice broke, her happiness apparent.
Jett rubbed his chest.
“Savannah? Baby, Christ, you’re okay? Tell me that you’re—”
“I’m okay.” Her gaze was on Jett. “I’m safe.”
For the moment.
“Where are you? What happened? What—”
“It was Patrick. He took me. I-I woke up in some room, tied to a chair.”
A low, vicious curse came from her father. Then… “He’s dead.” There was absolute, cold determination in that one word. “I swear to you, he’ll be a dead man.” A stark pause. “Where are you?” he asked again, voice roughening. “I’ll come for you. Right the hell now.”
Jett shook his head.
“I’m—I think I’m in a safe house. A…a team got me out.” She gave a nervous laugh. “They seem all Black Ops, very fancy. Did you use some government pull to get them?”
Jett reached for the phone. She’d said too much—
“I haven’t contacted anyone about your abduction. I was told that if I did, you’d die.” Her father’s voice had turned ice cold. “No one was sent by me, baby. Get the fuck away from—”
Jett snatched the phone from her. Horror had flashed on her face. She backed away, putting space between her and Jett even as he crushed the phone in his hand. Pulverized it with a strength that a normal man wouldn’t possess.
“You weren’t supposed to mention me.”
She swallowed. Retreated again. Her gaze was on the phone. Or rather, the chunks of the phone he’d just tossed into a trash bin. “I didn’t—just said that you were—”
“Black Ops.” Because he’d told her that he was a SEAL. His mistake.
“My dad didn’t get you to come for me.” Her breath came in and out. Fast, desperate pants.
Hell, was she about to run? It sure looked like she was about to run. He moved, deliberately placing his body between her and the exit.
“I…I would really like to see some ID,” Savannah added, notching her chin up. “Something that says you’re a cop or—”
“I never said I was a cop.” He was trying to keep the lies to a minimum. “Not like I carry some kind of SEAL ID in my wallet.” Despite everything, a smile tugged at his lips. “That’s just not a thing.”
She didn’t smile. Her eyes narrowed. “My dad didn’t arrange for you to rescue me.”
Now that he thought about the instructions they’d gotten from the handler before taking this mission, the guy had never said the senator had requested Lazarus assistance. Interesting.
“So how did you know about me?”
This wasn’t going to be an easy one to explain. “Maybe you should just be happy that you’re free?”
“I’m not free. I’m in a warehouse—or garage or whatever the hell you want to call this place—with a man I saw kill. And I’m trying to hold my shit together.”
He thought she was doing a pretty stellar job of that.
“Give me something.”
Fine. He closed the distance between them and stood right in her path. Staring straight into her gorgeous eyes, he sent her a message. I know what you can do.
“What I can do? What the hell does that mean?”
Look at my mouth, Savannah.
Her gaze dropped and focused on his mouth.
You’re psychic. You’re reading my mind. Because I’m not speaking right now.
“Oh, shit.” She backed up. Hit the wall behind her.
He stalked toward her. What other secrets are you keeping?
Chapter Four
An alarm started beeping, a low warning sound that put Jett on high alert. He whirled, his gaze going to the monitors that sat on the desk. Monitors that clearly showed him the “company” who had just slipped into the garage.
Maddox. Maddox was there, and he had a man slung over his shoulder. Andreas.
Andreas didn’t appear to be moving.
“Go into the bedroom,” Jett ordered Savannah flatly. “Get in there, now.” Because she didn’t need to see this scene.
Seeing a dead man coming back to life would be the kind of thing that freaked out a person.
He stepped forward.
Her fingers slid down his arm. A surge of warmth filled him, like a shot of straight electricity that zipped along his nerve endings. “That’s the guy who helped us escape.” She frowned at the monitors. “Maddox, right?”
“Yeah, but we’ve got an injured man.” Injured, dead. Semantics. “I need to help Maddox with him, so…get some rest, okay? I’ll check them out, and we’ll finish our talk later.”
He hurried away from her.
“Bullshit.”
Jett spun around.
Her eyes gleamed as her chin lifted and she faced off against him. “That guy is hurt because of me. He was part of the rescue op. I want to help him.”
The guy was past the point of helping. “You don’t need to see this.”
Her lips trembled. “What?”
But he could tell by a quick glance at the monitors that Maddox was already at the inner door. “Savannah, please, just wait in your room.”
He hurried to meet Maddox, and, luckily, he heard the bedroom door shut behind him. A swift glance showed him that Savannah had retreated. Just in time. He let Maddox in, immediately understanding by the grim look on his friend’s face that the situation was dire.
He grabbed Andreas. Put him on the couch. Didn’t feel a pulse. Too much blood. “Shit.”
“I tried communicating with you the whole fucking time,” Maddox gritted out. “But it was like some kind of wall was in the way, blocking my message.”
What?
Jett’s gaze whipped to him.
“Someone was blocking me,” Maddox added. His body was tense. “There’s another player in this mess. Someone with psychic power. That would sure as fuck explain why this mission got top priority, and we were yanked off the other jobs. We’ve got a very dangerous perp here, someone that has to be eliminated.”
Jett squared off with Maddox. “We’re not eliminating her.”
Maddox’s eyes widened. “Her?”
“I tried to send you a warning a few minutes ago. Savannah…she’s been picking up on my thoughts.”
“That’s not fucking possible.”
It was more than possible. He tried to figure this shit out. “If she can read my thoughts, then maybe she was blocking our psychic link, too.” He raked a hand over his face. “Because she could sure as hell hear me when I tried to communicate with you on that channel just a few minutes ago.”
“We have to report this. Report her.”
Before Jett could respond, Andreas let out a long, rough groan. Jett’s attention snapped to him just as the guy’s body started to tremble. Andreas shook, moaned, and his eyes flashed open.
“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Maddox drawled. He strode closer to the couch. “Now tell us what in the hell happened back there.”
Andreas’s hand flew to his throat. Blood still covered his neck, but the wound had closed. The wound that had killed him.
Hello, Lazarus. The Lazarus world—the world where no one stayed dead, not unless you took a bullet to the brain.