Sinful Secrets

by Melissa Ohnoutka

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll know soon enough.”

  “Please pull over so I can try and stop the bleeding. He’s in a lot of pain. And I can’t help him while we’re moving.” She watched Ryker’s chest rise and fall heavily. “This is so inhumane.”

  Keith grumbled down his next breath and turned off onto a dark side street. About a mile or so in, he pulled over and stopped. “You have ten minutes,” he said flicking on the interior lights.

  “Thank you.”

  He didn’t acknowledge her. Instead, he opened his door, slammed it, and then stood with his back resting against the front fender. She couldn’t tell what he was doing from her position, but if she didn’t know any better she’d swear he was praying. His head hung low, his hands in front of him.

  Turning her attention to Ryker’s wounds, she tried to figure out what to do first. Cleaning them seemed like the most logical thing. Then she could dress them. She slipped out from under his head to the floorboard and opened the first aid kit, thankful to find wipes, gauze, a pair of scissors, and antiseptic ointment. Laying the supplies out on the floor mat, along with a bottle of water from the cooler, she rose to her knees and straddled the hump in the floorboard. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the sleeve of Ryker’s shirt and carefully began to cut it away from his cold skin. The amount of blood soaked into the material made her queasy. She tried to keep her mind off the gore as the wound on the back of his shoulder became fully visible.

  Damn Keith Coleman. She glanced over the backseat to keep from hurling, noticing he still lingered close, smoking a cigarette. Chain smoking. Waiting for her to finish before they continued on their way. But why? It didn’t make sense. The reason he hadn’t left Ryker in the middle of the dark street back there to bleed to death baffled her.

  He had to have a motive. And the truth caused a hollow ache to work its way down her spine and spread tendrils of dread deep within her chest.

  This would not end well.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Joanna stared down at the massive task in front of her, trying to keep her nausea in check. The dime-size exit wound was shambolic, crusted over, the bleeding a slow ooze. Taking the water bottle, she poked a small hole in the bottom to create a jet stream and thoroughly irrigated the wound. Then, she hesitated slightly before gently wiping away the blood starting about two inches around the hole, careful not to disturb the actual damaged skin.

  A groan escaped Ryker, his right hand snatching hers in midair before she could touch him again. “Jo Jo. Why?”

  “Shh…don’t talk.”

  “Why didn’t you run?” His voice raw, the words croaked out from deep in his throat.

  “You needed me.” A tear slid down her cheek. The truth hit her so hard it hurt. She cared about this man. Always had. From the day he’d stood up for her in the parking lot against those mean girls, to the day he’d taken the fall for Sam’s and her stupid prank.

  His brow pinched together. “No.”

  “I’m not leaving you like this.”

  An expression so foreign to her crossed his face. A look of thankfulness and regret all wrapped up in a great deal of pain. “You shouldn’t have…” His eyes fluttered and he was out, his strong grip on her wrist diminishing before his hand fell back to the seat.

  A hard knock sounded on the window above her head. “You done yet?” Keith’s face, a pasty white, confirmed her suspicions. Little wimp couldn’t stomach the site of blood.

  “There’s a lot of blood.” She lifted up the part of the sleeve she’d cut away to prove her point.

  “Good God!” He twisted at the waist, bent over, and pulled himself to the front of the SUV, dry heaving even before he got there.

  Joanna smiled. This information might come in handy. As she worked to clean the wound on Ryker’s shoulder, she tried to remember what else Keith was afraid of. The dark. Bugs. And yes, of course. Blood. At four years old, he’d been the one to find his mother after she’d committed suicide. Slit her wrist in the bathroom one night, and no one ever saw it coming. What a horrible thing to witness as a child.

  Stop it! She would not feel sorry for him. Everyone had choices. Everyone had things happen they wished they could change. Sometimes bad things. Unspeakable things. But you found a way to move on. Found a way to survive despite it all.

  “Hang in there, Ryker. You have to be all right. You hear me?” She tried not to let his silence fill her with doubts. Stay calm. Focus on cleaning the wound so it doesn’t get infected. That was the plan. As she rolled his body away from her, she noticed the entry wound and tended to it as well. The bullet had gone straight through, missing bone and she prayed any vital arteries, due to the fact the blood had clotted so quickly.

  Once she secured the bandages, she turned her attention to the stains on his jeans. The majority of the blood here collected high on his left thigh. With a great deal of care and precision, she managed to make a small hole just above his knee with the tip of the scissors, so she could slide the blade in without disturbing or touching his skin. Seconds later, she had the bottom leg of the jeans cut away from the top and found the source of the bleeding. He had to be the luckiest man alive. This bullet had caught the edge of his skin, leaving a nasty black trail of burned, torn flesh that would definitely scar, but do little other damage. A quick thorough cleaning, and she added the ointment and bandage to it as well.

  Keith hadn’t returned to check on her progress. The only clue he was still around was the sound of his gagging every few seconds, followed by a string of nasty curses.

  She swiped the hair from Ryker’s forehead, relishing the simple action. Then she made him a silent promise. You will not die, Ryker Kane. Keith will not win. Not this time.

  Angrily wiping her tears away, she backed out of the SUV the same way she’d entered and made her way to the front of the truck, where Keith sat hunched over on the pavement. He had his head between his knees.

  “I’m done,” she whispered.

  He lifted his gaze and her heart faltered. The scared little boy she’d held and tried to comfort that night after his mother’s death had returned. It was so weird. He looked nothing like the man she’d wanted to pulverize only minutes before.

  Good. Maybe he’d listen to reason now. It was worth a try.

  “Keith. You don’t look so good.”

  He drew in a deep breath but said nothing.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  Still nothing. Just that scared little-boy look.

  “I’ve done what I can, but he really needs to see a doctor.”

  “Does he, now?” Keith’s eyes, bloodshot and sunken, his face still white, made him appear frail. But evil lurked in the depths of his soul.

  Joanna drew in a deep breath and held it. Setting him off was the last thing she wanted.

  “Do you think I give a damn if that bastard lives or dies?”

  She let out the breath slowly, contemplating her words carefully. “I don’t think you want him to die. I’ve known you a long time. I don’t understand where all this is coming from. This isn’t like you at all.”

  With shaky movements, he pushed himself up off the ground, turning to brace his body against the finder of the truck, the gun still clutched in his right hand. “Do you? Do you really know me, Joanna?” He paused, giving her a sarcastic look. “See, if you knew me, really knew me, you’d know how I’ve felt about you all this time.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  He raised the hand holding the gun into the air. “You have no idea what I’ve been through. Even though clueless as all get out, you were my rock through it all. I knew that with you by my side I could make it through anything.”

  “We were there for each other. You were like the brother I never had.”

  A fierce growl erupted from deep in his chest, and he kicked at the fender in a fit of rage, causing Joanna to jerk backward. “No! That’s bullshit. We’ve shared too much to
just be friends or siblings, Joanna. And you know it.”

  Joanna stood, speechless. Shaking. What on earth was he talking about? She’d never once led him on or hinted that she wanted an intimate relationship. Not ever.

  “Get back in the car.” He made a miraculous recovery. His face burned with rage now, a deep red replacing the ashen white. But what scared her most was the fact that he was now pointing the gun at her.

  She held up her hands. “It’s okay. I’m going,” she said, backing around the front of the vehicle to the back passenger door. Head down, scared he’d shoot her, she opened the door and slipped inside, resting Ryker’s head on her lap once more.

  Keith didn’t move to follow her, but the arm with the gun did. “You’re wrong. It’ll never be okay again. Too many things have already gone wrong.”

  He seemed truly sad about this, wiping the side of his eyes with his shirt sleeve.

  She should have protested, should have questioned him about what went wrong, told him she’d do everything in her power to help him, but her wobbly knees had desperately needed relief. It was either sit or collapse.

  Honestly, she cared for him. Always had. As a brother, nothing more. And she started to tell him just that, but a little voice inside her warned her to be quiet. Do exactly as he said.

  Pulling the heavy door closed behind her, she sat trembling against the soft black leather and waited for Keith to get back in. He paced back and forth in front of the vehicle like a confused animal, talking to himself.

  “Jo Jo, what’s going on?” Ryker studied her through groggy eyes.

  Her chest ached. “Shh…” She placed a finger to her lips. “Please, don’t talk. I’m afraid of what he’ll do if he knows you’re awake.”

  Ryker nodded in her lap and shifted slightly in the seat. An immediate groan of agony following.

  “Just stay still and quiet. I’ll figure something out. I promise.” She wasn’t sure how much he heard before he passed out again. But she felt like he understood how bad their circumstances were.

  “Ready?” Keith had opened the door without her knowing and stuck his head in. “I take it the patient is doing better now?”

  She swallowed hard. “For now.”

  “Good. We have a ways to go before we stop again. You should try and get some sleep. You look like hell.” He eased down behind the wheel, pulling the seat belt around him. “Buckle up, friend.” A hint of bitterness tainted his words.

  He’d transformed again. Back to the calm man who’d helped her out of so many pickles as she tried to get her business off and running. But a bad feeling she was going to pay for her brother remark hung in the air.

  …

  Ryker’s head pounded. Pain raged over just about every inch of his body with every breath. Being shot twice was bad enough. But the beating Keith gave him as he dragged him to the car and stuffed him inside only magnified the agony. The man was a psychopath.

  He concentrated on the pain in his left shoulder, his thigh, his jagged oxygen intake, slowing his breathing. Man, it hurt like hell. But he didn’t have time to hurt. Shit, he didn’t have time to think. He needed to act. And quickly.

  With Keith’s connections and the people willing to cover up his crimes, any hope of getting out of this unscathed…or alive…didn’t look promising. He figured the man already had plans for what to do with his body so that he’d never be found.

  Keith’s words echoed in his head between the jolts of pain. “Why couldn’t you just leave it alone? She’s mine. You’re never going to have a chance with her.”

  Ryker wondered what the senator had done, who he’d paid off to get the investigation cut so quickly. His superiors’ orders were to stop all inquiries, research, and forensics dealing with the Black Widow cases. But Ryker couldn’t let it go. His partner and all those innocent people deserved justice.

  Off in the distance, he heard Keith talking to Jo Jo. Even though he was in the same vehicle, they sounded so far away. He worked really hard to tune in and make sense of the words.

  “You look like hell…buckle up, friend.” Something about Keith’s sarcastic tone made his skin crawl. He sounded like a wounded animal. Never a good sign.

  “I never understood what you saw in him, Joanna. You go out, get drunk, end up staying the night with a stranger, and lose your mind.”

  He felt Jo Jo inhale deeply before she spoke. “What I did or didn’t do is none of your business.”

  “You’re wrong. Besides, you have always been my business. I have documents and checks giving me permission to make you my business.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  He chuckled.

  “Keith?”

  “Do you really believe dear ol’ dad would allow you to go off to college on your own without protection?”

  “What?” She shifted in the seat, jolting Ryker’s head back against her tight stomach where he could feel her heartbeat. Clearly, this revelation shocked her.

  “Are you insinuating that my father paid you to…to watch me?”

  “I’m not insinuating anything. I’m stating fact.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  The man’s voice made Ryker’s pulse accelerate. Joanna straightened in the seat and gasped. And Keith sounded way too satisfied by her reaction. Would her father stoop that low? Sadly, even without knowing the man, Ryker knew the answer was yes.

  “So, how’s the patient doing? He awake yet?”

  Ryker felt Jo Jo’s hand tighten in his hair. “He needs a doctor. If his wounds get infected, he could die.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “What on earth do you mean it doesn’t matter? It does matter. What the hell is wrong with you?” She blew out an exasperated breath. “Every life matters.”

  “Did my mother’s life matter?” Keith’s voice cracked.

  Jo Jo trembled, her breathing slightly irregular now. Ryker forced his eyes open, turning his head so he could see her profile. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “Yes. Of course your mother’s life mattered. I’m so sorry.”

  Damn. Ryker had no idea what happened to Keith’s mother. But from the look on Jo Jo’s face, it was bad. And probably explained a lot about Keith’s mental state.

  “Everyone was sorry afterward. But no one gave a damn when she was alive. Especially your mother.” He spit the last word out.

  “I wish you’d quit talking in riddles. What did my mother have to do with any of it?”

  He sighed. “You were young, but you had to have some idea.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Why were over at my house so much?”

  “To babysit.” She looked down and caught Ryker watching her, then quickly darted her gaze back to the front seat.

  Keith ground out a laugh and pounded the steering wheel. “Before your mother ran off. ”

  Ryker didn’t like where this was going. Jo Jo’s heart rate had doubled, her hands shaking as they rested on his shoulder and head.

  Ignore the pain, asshole. Find strength somewhere and get ready. Jo Jo needs you.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Inhaling the raw, iron earth scent of blood trapped within the confines of the SUV, Joanna studied the dark patches of scenery as they flew by through the front windshield. Stay calm. Stay calm, she repeated for the hundredth time, locking her gaze on the man behind the wheel. What was he trying to say about her mother? She scowled. “Quit playing these stupid games and just tell me.”

  He glanced at her in the rearview mirror, a strange look in his eyes. “Sweet, Joanna. Still believe the world is a good place? That finding the fairy-tale love story really exists? I almost feel sorry for you.” His laugh was harsh. “Almost.”

  She let her gaze drop to her lap where Ryker still watched her. His pinched brow proved he was trying to decipher Keith’s ranting as well.

  “Where was your daddy when you were younger, Joan
na?”

  She thought long and hard about that question. Her dad’s family hadn’t been wealthy. They’d struggled to put food on the table. In fact, his grandfather had worked for one of the oil service companies her dad now owned. The truth was her father had a strong drive to succeed and earned every last penny with smart investments. Not that she was proud of all his tactics used to obtain his wealth, but his work ethic was nothing but efficient and flawless. “He worked a lot. You know that.”

  “Funny that when my mother went to see her brother in Louisiana, my father would work from home.”

  “You were so young. He wanted to be close to you instead of hiring a nanny.”

  “Ehh… Wrong.” He sat quiet for a few minutes and then said, “Your mother was home alone then, too. Wasn’t she? Brought you over for play dates when I was barely even walking yet. Don’t you think that’s strange? What were you, like six? What do you think those two were doing while we played?”

  “Your dad? My mom?” Her eyes narrowed in denial. “Watching us.”

  He laughed again. A deep, throaty laugh that cut her to the bone. “Wrong. Again.”

  She flinched at the suspicion forming in her head. “I don’t believe you. My mom would never—”

  “Why do you still defend her? Your mother left you just like my mom left me. Only difference is, your mom killed mine.”

  Icy disbelief and horror spiked her skin. Ryker’s right hand closed over hers, the comforting action more powerful than he could know. She sucked down a large amount of air. Silence hovered in the air so thick it made her ears hurt. Killed his mom? What on earth was this lunatic talking about?

  “You’re one sick SOB, Keith. How dare you say such horrible things about my mother? She wasn’t perfect, but she didn’t kill anyone. You don’t know her, or why she left.”

  He threw his head back, and the laugh that followed spewed pure evil. “Ever wonder why the tragedy tied us together? The nauseating truth bound us forever.”

  She didn’t answer. Anger and resentment gnawed at her insides. His mother killed herself. The police ruled it a suicide. And the horrific ordeal left Joanna’s mother heartbroken. So much so, she’d left soon after Joanna’s eighth birthday, but for personal reasons with Joanna’s father. Not because she was guilty of killing anyone or having an affair. Her father would never have had anything else to do with Keith’s family if this bullshit was true.