A Dead Man's Pulse

by Samantha A. Cole

  A short time later, he had her cleaned and sated, cuddling against his side as he pulled the covers over them. Swirling her fingertips across his chest, she tilted her head up. “Stay with me tonight. Please. I don’t want to wake up alone in the morning. I want to wake up with you inside me, making love to me.”

  He wanted that too, but his heart twisted. “I’m afraid to. What if I have another episode?”

  “I can handle it, Logan. You won’t hurt me. Do you think we can try it?”

  Her eyes begged him to stay as much as her words did. He didn’t want to risk hurting her, but she was experienced in dealing with EDPs—emotionally disturbed persons from being on the job for many years. It wasn’t as if she wouldn’t know how to respond if he had another nightmare, and she’d already seen him have one. He tightened his arm around her. “Yeah, we can try.”

  She was about to say something else when his stomach growled, and she giggled. “Someone’s hungry.”

  Her stomach picked that moment to make itself known too. Logan tickled her navel. “Sounds like we’re both hungry.”

  “Well, we’re sort of out of luck. There’s really nothing to eat in the house except those defrosted peas.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll pass on the peas—I had enough of them tonight—but I can run out to Pop & Sons and grab us something to eat really quick.”

  Frowning, Dakota checked the bedside clock. “It’s after two in the morning.”

  “So? The diner’s open twenty-four hours and I need calories if I’m going to be waking you up with my cock deep in your sweet pussy in a few hours.”

  The corners of her mouth swung upward. “Hmmm . . . you might be right.”

  “Of course I am.” Climbing out of the bed, he stood and grabbed his cargo pants from the floor. Thankfully, he’d changed into them from his leathers before leaving the club. It felt weird wearing them outside a lifestyle setting. “What do you want to eat?”

  She stretched under the covers like a satisfied kitten. “A bacon cheeseburger deluxe with fried onions and a side of cheese fries. Yes, it’s a heart attack on a plate but I allow myself one every once in a while.”

  “A girl after my own heart,” he said while pulling on his T-shirt.

  “Damn straight. Oh, grab me a sweet iced tea, too, please?”

  After snatching his holstered gun, wallet, phone, and keys from where they were scattered on the floor, he leaned down and kissed her lips. “You got it, baby. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

  “Grab my keys from the living room so you can get back in. Gina should be home soon,” she added before yawning and settling further into the bed, her eyes already closing. He shut the bedroom door so she wouldn’t be disturbed when her roommate arrived.

  As he locked the front door, Logan found himself whistling as he strode to his car. While he was nervous about staying the night, and possibly having another episode in his sleep, his mind kept flashing back to the moment they’d both said “I love you” for the first time and his heart soared. Once they caught the killer, he was going to request a few days off and take Dakota up to Virginia to meet his family. His mother would be tickled pink to meet her and would probably start planning their wedding. Someday . . . maybe not right away, but someday he’d love to put a ring on Dakota’s hand. But for now, he’d settle for a collar that would show the BDSM community she was claimed by her Dom.

  As he stopped at the end of the parking lot, leading to the street, Gina Harvey pulled in, driving her Mustang. She recognized his SUV because she waved at him. Flashing a hand back, he turned right and accelerated into the light traffic. He wanted to get the food and back into Dakota’s bed as fast as he could. Maybe he wouldn’t let her wait until morning to wake her up the way she’d asked him to.

  C

  HAPTER 20

  Having ditched the old sedan he’d been driving when that bitch escaped, the Dom sat in his truck at the other end of the lot from where that asshole from Trident had parked his SUV. He’d seen them walking into Heat earlier and knew they’d be there to closing—undercover, trying to figure out who he was. Since he’d already learned where the submissive cop was staying after following her home from the Trident compound one day, it had been simple enough to wait for her to return after her shift was over. But then her partner had to stay and get laid. If the guy hadn’t been a trained operative, the Dom would have taken him out of the equation, instead of waiting for an opportunity to get by him. Now it seemed like the wait had been worth it as Reese headed to his vehicle. The love ‘em and leave ‘em types never stuck around after getting some tail.

  The Dom watched as the SUV left the lot at the same time another vehicle entered. He recognized this one too. It was perfect timing. Climbing out of his truck, he strode across the lot like he belonged there, carrying his duffel bag. He had a talent for blending in and usually never drew a second glance from people. He crossed in front of FBI Special Agent Harvey’s path to her condo and gave her a friendly nod as she eyed him. The blonde wasn’t bad looking, but she hadn’t drawn his interest like the dark-haired cop had. Officer Swift would be a perfect addition to his collection of masterpieces.

  Without saying a word, he continued past the fed. As she neared her ground-floor unit, he silently changed direction on his sneakered feet. Her keys were in her hand as she prepared to unlock the door. Reaching into the open zipper of his duffel, he pulled out the silenced handgun. Without the tiniest pang of regret, he put two bullets in the back of her head and grabbed the keys from where they fell beside her. Within seconds, he had the door unlocked. Turning, he hooked his hands under her armpits and dragged the body into the foyer as quietly as he could, leaving it to bleed out on the wall-to-wall carpet. Reaching over the lifeless form, he locked the door again.

  After listening for any signs the cop had heard him, he stepped over to the couch in the living room and set his duffel bag down before pulling out the items he’d need. Since he hadn’t had a chance to find a new dungeon, he would do everything here. Instead of posing her body in a public spot, he’d leave her here. He couldn’t risk being seen carrying her body out to the car in a few hours. He also couldn’t risk her screaming, which disappointed him, but he’d still use a ball gag to muffle her screams. He tucked one in the waistband on his left side, then hung a coiled bull whip from the ball. The gun and a pair of handcuffs went to the small of his back; he’d need both gloved hands to subdue her. The last thing he grabbed was a washcloth which he soaked with liquid from a small bottle. He wouldn’t need the syringe this time as he’d be playing with her here.

  Once he was certain he had everything he needed, he inched down the carpeted hallway. The bathroom door and one bedroom door were ajar, so his focus was on the closed bedroom. Was his canvas asleep? Was she naked after fucking her lover?

  Grasping the knob, he turned it slowly, then pushed the door open a crack. There was just enough moonlight breaching the edges of the blinds to allow him to see into the dark room. A lone figure was under the covers, her back to the door as she snored softly. The Dom eased into the room, his heart rate spiking in anticipation of the struggle she was sure to put forth. Step by step, he drew closer; her fate was sealed.

  Dakota woke with a start, the odor of a chemical reaching her nose a second before a damp cloth was slapped over her mouth and nose. Her instinct and training kicked in immediately. Her limbs thrashed as she tried to kick and punch her male assailant, but she was wrapped up in the blankets and couldn’t do any damage. With a sudden yank of her body, she rolled onto her stomach and continued until she trapped his arm beneath her, forcing his hand to pull free from her mouth. The move also sent the covers to slide partially off her nude body. She brought her knees up as far as she could then kicked out, flipping him onto the other side of the bed.

  Scrambling, she reached for her weapon but found it wasn’t on the night stand as it should have been. Damn it! It was on the floor with her clothes. She tried to roll off the bed but the bastard was o
n her again, trying to get the cloth back over her face. Dakota forced her elbow backward with all her might and was rewarded with a satisfying crack and an oomph as she connected with his face, followed by cursing. “Fucking bitch!”

  She was almost to her feet when his arms wrapped around her and yanked her back. The next thing she knew, she was flying before her body slammed against the dresser on the side of the bed. The impact sent a few items that had been on top of the dresser tumbling to the floor. Agony shot through her ribs and right arm as she dropped to the floor. From there, she got her first look at her attacker and her eyes widened in recognition. “You?”

  “Yes, me,” he snarled as he stood on the bed above her and grasped the handle of a bull whip that was lying atop the messed up covers along with a ball gag and handcuffs. “It’s always the quiet ones, standing in the background, you have to fear most.”

  With a flick of his wrist, he snapped the length at her. Dakota was wedged between the bed and dresser and there was no way to avoid being struck so she threw up her hands in a natural instinct to protect her face. With a crack, the tip of the whip sliced her forearm, burning her skin, and she couldn’t hold back the cry of pain. She struggled to get to her knees, but this time the whip lit up her back. “Shit!”

  The bastard kept swinging from above, and Dakota’s body felt like it was on fire every place he hit. She had to get out of the corner he’d backed her into before he whipped her to death. Another strike landed on her upper arm and as soon as she felt her skin break, she twisted so she was staring up at him. His mouth was turned up in a cruel smile while insanity raged in his eyes. When he swung again, instead of using her hands to protect herself, she went on the offense, snapping her arms out and letting the thin strip of leather wrap around them. Her hands closed around the whip and she yanked hard, pulling him off balance. Unfortunately, the momentum brought him down on top of her.

  They struggled, each trying to gain the advantage. Dakota fought for her life, using her hands, elbows, knees, feet, and even her head to attack him. Grunts and heavy breathing filled the room. Her skin was slick with blood and sweat, and the pain was overwhelming. Her head buzzed with a combination of adrenaline and whatever chemical she’d breathed in when he’d first attacked. That, combined with the fact the killer had a good sixty pounds on her and wasn’t wounded, put her at a disadvantage as he grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the wall with one hand. Making a fist with the other, he punched her in the face. She saw stars as her cheek and jaw exploded, and she tried to hang onto consciousness. She was dead if she didn’t.

  Her vision was blurred as he got to his feet, the bull whip in his hand once again. This time he was too close to her to let the leather fly, but that didn’t stop him from aiming the thick handle at her head. Weakening, all Dakota could do was try to protect her head from taking a beating that would knock her out. The killer stepped back, giving himself more room, and let the tip of the whip sail through the air at her again. Crack! It licked her side, and she bit back a shriek. No way was she going to give this bastard the satisfaction.

  Where was Logan? How long had it been since he’d left? Would he return in time to save her or would he find her dead body? No! She refused to let that happen. But her time was running out as the assault continued. Her gaze scanned what was in reach that she could use as a weapon and spotted a can of aerosol hair spray. Snatching it, she knocked it against the side of the dresser, popping the top off it. Praying the tiny hole was pointed in the right direction, she pushed onto her knees, extended her arm as far as it would go, and pressed the nozzle, sending a spray into the killer’s face. He screamed as his eyes slammed shut, and twisted his head to avoid getting hit with more.

  As Dakota struggled to her feet, the bedroom door crashed open. She watched in horror as the killer, still partially blinded, spun toward the sound, pulling a gun from his lower back and aiming it at Logan. She lunged at the killer as gunfire filled the room.

  Logan parked in a space close to Dakota’s unit and grabbed the sack of food and two fountain sodas before exiting his SUV. The food run had taken a little longer than expected because he’d stopped at a fender-bender to make sure everyone was okay after seeing a young woman holding an infant. The cops hadn’t been on scene yet, so he stayed with her and the idiot driving the car that rear-ended her until they arrived. The poor woman had been driving around, trying to get the baby asleep—ironically, the kid slept through all the excitement.

  He hoped Dakota’s roommate had gone to bed because he hadn’t thought to stop and ask if she wanted anything from the diner. As far as Doms went, he was a work in progress. His mind had been elsewhere, otherwise he would’ve offered to treat the other woman to a late night meal as well. He blamed it on the fact he was still trying to wrap his head around being in love with an amazing woman who loved him back. If Dakota was asleep, he was looking forward to waking her up, one kiss at a time. He’d start with her toes and work his way up her luscious body.

  Nearing the condo, the hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he slowed, scanning his surroundings. When he didn’t see anyone else, he took another few steps to the door, his senses on full alert. Something on the concrete in front of the welcome mat caught his eye. The smeared dark substance registered as the acrid aroma of blood reached his nose. It was fresh, leading straight to the door, and hadn’t been there when he left. Placing the food and drinks off to the side, Logan slid his weapon from the holster at the small of his back. He didn’t need to check if it was loaded, but did finger the safety to make sure it was ready to fire as he tried to turn the door knob. It was locked so he retrieved Dakota’s keys from his pocket. Unlocking the door, he tossed the keys to the soft grass next to where the food was, then pulled out his cell phone. When the 9-9-1-1 operator answered, Logan kept his voice low. “This is Logan Reese from Trident Security. Task force officers need assistance . . .” He rattled off the address. “Possible officer down. Contact SOD and the FBI. Tell responding officers not to shoot the guy wearing tan cargo pants and a black T-shirt—that’s me and I’m armed.”

  Through the phone, he heard the information being dispatched. “All units, all units, clear all radio traffic. Possible officer down. Available units respond to . . .”

  Knowing help was on the way, Logan stuck the phone in his pocket without disconnecting the call. This way the dispatcher could monitor what was going on even if it would be muffled. Turning the knob, he eased the door open, but it didn’t get very far; something was blocking it. His gaze fell to the floor of the foyer. Gina Harvey’s lifeless eyes stared back at him, blood soaked into the carpet around her head. She was beyond his help, and he put it out of his mind for the moment, concentrating on getting to Dakota. Pushing harder on the door, he was able to make enough room to squeeze through. He paused long enough to hear the sounds of a struggle coming from one of the bedrooms. It took everything in him to use caution as he approached. Getting himself killed wouldn’t help him save the woman he loved.

  Leading with his weapon, he hurried down the empty hall with a quick check of the dark bathroom and the bedroom Gina had been using. As he reached the door to Dakota’s room, a loud crack sounded from behind it. The blood drained from Logan’s face as he froze. His mind started to leave the here and now, returning to his Afghani prison, but a scream of fury and pain slammed him back to the present. Dakota needed him, and he wasn’t going to fail her. Gripping his weapon in both hands, he lifted his foot and kicked the door in, spinning into the room and finding his target. As a man on the other side of the bed spun toward him, Logan’s brain didn’t even register that he was familiar. All it saw was the bastard’s hand coming up with a black handgun, aiming it in his direction. With muscle memory, Logan’s body reacted, everything appearing to happen in slow motion. A split second was all it took to aim and shoot, but as his weapon fired two shots in rapid succession, horror coursed through him as Dakota lunged for her attacker whose weapon also went off. That bullet went
wide, hitting the wall two feet to Logan’s right, as the killer and Dakota both fell to the floor.

  Fear unlike anything he’d ever experienced, not even in that hellhole on the other side of the world, came over Logan. Rushing forward, he kept his weapon pointed at the killer, but the man didn’t move. One of Logan’s bullets had struck him in the upper arm, however, the other had been straight and true, hitting the bastard between the eyes and killing him instantly. Kicking the gun from the lifeless hand, he turned his attention to Dakota. She was unconscious and his gut roiled as he saw all the blood and damage to her nude body, but the worst was the bullet hole above her left breast.

  Sirens signaled the arrival of emergency vehicles pulling into the condo complex as he dropped to his knees beside her with a kernel of hope as he saw her chest rise with an inhalation. Yanking off his T-shirt, he pressed it into the wound to staunch the flow of blood. “C’mon, baby, stay with me. Don’t let me lose you too.”

  When he heard voices and police radios squawking from the vicinity of the front door, he yelled at the top of his lungs, “Officer down, officer down! Get a damn bus!”

  C

  HAPTER 21

  Surrounded by darkness, Georgia searched for a sliver of light. Why can’t I see anything? And what was that incessant beeping noise tickling the edge of her consciousness? It was driving her nuts.

  Mom? Dad? She thought she’d heard them earlier, their voices wavering as if they’d been crying, but hadn’t been able to find them to comfort them. Her whole body hurt from the tips of her hair to her toenails. She couldn’t remember ever being in so much pain. A constant buzzing sounded in her brain and she wanted to push her way through the fog swirling around her.