by Cynthia Eden
“I meant what I said.” Jamie turned to stare at him. “I’m not going to run. And the other night...it was fear driving me. Fear telling me to go, but I’m tired of being afraid.”
I never want her afraid again.
She smiled at him, and that slow smile—it nearly broke his heart.
When did I get a heart that could break?
“Thank you,” she told him.
He shook his head. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to thank me for anything.”
“I do. Thank you...for laughing at the wedding.”
Now she’d made him frown. He didn’t remember—
“I heard you laugh.” Her smile stretched a bit. “When I did my best to knock that bouquet away from me. And then I turned around and you were there. You’d been there before, I’d seen you over the past year. But that time...that time I thought...” Jamie exhaled. “He’s here now. Like you’d been waiting for me.”
Waiting for her to turn and see him there.
I had been.
“You’ve helped me over the past few days, more than I can ever say.” Her smile turned a bit pained, rueful. “And I’ve repaid you with danger, and I know that’s not a fair exchange. I know—”
He leaned forward and kissed her. A hard brush of his lips over hers. One that made him want to do far more. “You don’t have to thank me. Not for anything.” Because he wanted to be with her. Wanting to protect her was second nature to him. He needed Jamie safe. Needed all threats to her to be eliminated.
And that’s why I’m about to go and pay a little visit to Sean Nyle. They would have a serious chat. I told him to stay away. He didn’t listen.
Davis hadn’t wanted to attack the guy, not with Jamie watching. Not with her trying to get him to hold back.
But in a few moments, Jamie wouldn’t be there.
“Mac is already waiting inside for you,” he said.
“My guard, for the day?” Jamie shook her head. “He doesn’t have to do that. He—”
“For me, okay? Keep him close because I want to make sure nothing happens to you.”
“Nothing will.”
It had damn well better not.
Then she kissed him. She leaned in and brushed her lips over his cheek. “I always knew you were one of the good guys.” She turned before he could say anything else and hopped from the vehicle. She hurried into the clinic, stopping just long enough to toss him a quick wave over her shoulder.
One of the good guys.
She had that wrong. Just because he wasn’t evil, well, that didn’t mean he was good. Davis waited until she went inside, then he reversed his vehicle. He hit the Bluetooth connection and called Grant.
“Sean Nyle is in town,” he said.
“What? The ex?”
Yeah, a guy who needed to realize he was an ex for a reason. Davis hadn’t liked the way that the other man had stared at Jamie. As if he still wants her.
That wasn’t happening. Sean would never have her again. He’d hurt her before, and Davis didn’t want him close to Jamie ever again.
I warned him. He should have listened.
“He drove into town. The guy was just out at Jamie’s house.” What was left of it. “I need to know where he is. It’s early, so I figure he stayed at a motel around here last night.”
“I’ll do some checking,” Grant said immediately. “I’ll call you when I find him.”
And in the meantime, Davis would start heading toward the closest motel to Jamie’s property. If he’d been Sean, if he’d wanted to see Jamie...then I would have booked the place closest to her.
Following that hunch, Davis pushed the gas pedal down on the floor and took off.
* * *
“JAMIE?”
She looked up. Sylvia stood behind her desk. And Mac—he was sitting in the corner chair of the lobby, seemingly engrossed in a magazine—but looking totally out of place, like a big, dangerous jungle cat who’d wandered in by mistake.
“What’s happening?’ Sylvia asked. “And don’t tell me nothing.” She pointed toward Mac. “You’ve had a bodyguard, for two days straight.” Sylvia’s eyes reflected her worry. “I think I deserve to know what’s going on, I think—”
“You do.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Mac put down his magazine.
“You deserve to know everything, and I’m not going to hide it anymore.” She’d carried this secret around for so long, like a dark sin that she wanted to keep from the rest of the world. I didn’t do anything wrong. “There’s something you need to know about me.”
Sylvia hurried around the desk. She took Jamie’s hand. “What is it?”
A long and twisted tale. “Let’s go into my office,” Jamie told her. “And I’ll tell you all about the girl I used to be.”
Because if Sylvia was going to stay with her, she needed to know about the danger closing in.
* * *
JAMIE HATED HIM.
Sean slammed his car door shut and hurried toward the motel room. The guilt had been eating him alive ever since Davis McGuire appeared at his office. Sean had gone to Jamie, thinking he could maybe try and make things right.
Then he’d seen her house. The place had been torched straight to the ground. And Jamie—she’d had fear in her eyes when she first saw him.
She used to smile when their eyes met. She’d glow a bit. They’d laugh. Share secrets.
But they’d lost all of that.
We didn’t lose it. I killed it.
Because he’d been on the verge of having his dreams slip away. His family had hit a rough spot, and even the student loans wouldn’t have been enough to finance his education. His dreams, he’d always had plenty of them.
So he’d told a few lies. At the time, he’d even convinced himself...what would it hurt?
But then, he’d seen the way the others at school had turned on Jamie. Guilt had eaten at him, gnawing away more and more each day and then—
Jamie had just been gone. She’d vanished.
The guilt had eased. He’d gone on with his life. He’d screwed up again. Why did he always seem to hurt the people closest to him?
And he’d gone back to square one. No money. Few prospects and...
Jamie.
At the wrong time, in the right place.
He hurried toward his motel room door. Fumbling a bit with the key, he managed to get the door open. He rushed inside, jerking a hand through his hair.
Garrison had told him that he just wanted to make sure Jamie was safe. Maybe...maybe Garrison didn’t know what his son was doing. Maybe he could call the guy and get him down there. Maybe Jamie could be safe again, and this whole mess could vanish.
And the gnawing guilt will leave me once more.
Maybe. He yanked out his phone. Called the number Garrison had left for him, a number he’d programmed in his phone, just in case. The line rang, once. Twice.
“Come on, come on...” Sean muttered.
And the line was picked up. “Why are you calling me?” Garrison demanded.
Sean blinked. Oh, right, caller ID. “Because we’ve got a situation.” He paced around the cramped confines of that motel room. “Have you ever heard of McGuire Securities? Because if you haven’t, you sure need to know about them.”
“I’m aware of the situation.” Garrison’s voice sounded annoyed.
Annoyed? The guy needed to be scared. “Are you aware that Jamie’s house was torched? That the only thing left is some sagging walls that have been charred pitch-black? Are you aware of that?”
Silence.
“I’m close to her,” Sean said. “I had to come and see for myself. She’s being stalked, and I thought you were going to keep her safe.” His fingers clenched around th
e phone. “That was what you told me, right? That you were worried about—”
“It’s not her safety that concerns me,” Garrison said, his voice curt. “And that’s not what should concern you, either.”
“What?”
“You need to look after yourself.” Now Garrison’s voice hardened even more. “Do you understand me, Nyle? Watch yourself. You shouldn’t have gone to find her. You said you weren’t having any contact with her. That made you safe. But if you’ve gone back to her, with the past you two share—”
A knock sounded at Sean’s door. He turned, frowning. Was that the maid? He should have hung up one of those do-not-disturb signs, but he’d been a little distracted. Freaking understatement.
“Where’s your son?” he asked Garrison as he headed toward the door. “Because I’m thinking he’s down here. I’m thinking—” He yanked open the door.
And a knife shoved into his stomach.
Sean gasped, and the phone slipped from his hand.
* * *
“NYLE?” GARRISON WESTPORT demanded as he leaned forward. His driver was nearly at the airport. “Nyle, dammit, don’t you leave me hanging—”
He heard a strangled gasp. A thud.
Then...laughter?
“Nyle?” Garrison repeated.
But there was no response. He sat back, slumping a bit against the leather seat. This was all out of control. Everything...it shouldn’t be happening. He’d worked so hard, for so long.
It shouldn’t be happening.
“Drive faster,” he said. Because he was afraid that the present was about to become even bloodier than the past.
And he was too far away to stop it.
Helpless, just like he’d been before.
* * *
SYLVIA STARED AT JAMIE.
Just stared at her.
“So, um...that’s it.” She’d talked fast, barely taking a breath as she revealed all the dark skeletons that hung in her closet. Only those skeletons weren’t hiding any longer. They were out, for all the world to see.
Henry’s already found me. There’s no point in hiding.
“It?” Sylvia repeated. She rose and shook her head.
Jamie tensed.
“That’s not ‘it’!” Sylvia said. “That’s a nightmare. That’s hell. That’s—” She broke off and hugged Jamie, hard. “That’s what you’ve been holding back. You think I couldn’t see it? Pain has always clung to you, and I hated it.” Sylvia sniffed. “I’m sorry.”
Jamie caught her friend’s arms. “Why?”
“I’m sorry you’ve carried this for so long, all alone.” Sylvia gave her a small smile. “But you’re not alone anymore, right?”
Sylvia believes me.
“Right,” Jamie said, her voice soft. “I’m not alone anymore.”
Perhaps she never had been. Her own fear had stopped her from seeing what was right in front of her all along. Friends. Support.
Jamie thought of Davis.
Maybe even love.
* * *
WHEN HE PULLED into the motel’s parking lot, Davis saw Sean’s blue SUV. Davis parked his rental right next to it, then glanced over at the motel.
Sean’s vehicle was parked directly in front of room number seven. Eyes narrowing, Davis climbed from his car. He hurried toward the door. His fist lifted, and he pounded against the old wood. “Sean Nyle!”
He heard a thud from inside. The fast pad of footsteps.
He took a step back from that door. “Open up, Sean! We need to talk!” No other cars were in the lot. All of the other guests must have cleared out early.
He glanced back at the lot. Wait...
There was another vehicle there. Over near the dumpster, half-hidden, he could just make out a motorcycle.
A motor—hell.
He swung back toward the door. “Sean!” He looked down. Saw faint red splotches on the cement. Red drops of...blood?
He grabbed for the knob. The door was unlocked, so he shoved it open and rushed inside.
Davis saw Sean, slumped near the bed, huddled in a pool of growing blood. Swearing, Davis ran for him.
Sean tried to turn toward Davis. The guy’s eyes were bleary. “No...behind...door—”
Dammit! Rookie mistake. Rookie—
Before Davis could turn back around, something heavy slammed into his head. Davis fell down, and darkness swam before him.
* * *
JAMIE’S PHONE RANG. Frowning, she pulled it from the pocket of her scrubs. She saw Davis’s number on the screen and glanced apologetically at Sylvia. “I need to take this, I—”
“I understand,” Sylvia told her. Sylvia’s gaze was filled with sympathy and worry. “I’ll be outside.”
Jamie nodded. Her finger was poised to swipe over the screen and take Davis’s call.
Sylvia hesitated at the door. “I’m glad you told me, Jamie.”
“Me, too.” She was. Glad one more person knew her secrets.
She’d guarded those secrets, as if they were dark, painful sins for so long. But they weren’t my sins.
And she was tired of paying for them.
Her finger swiped over the screen, and she lifted the phone to her ear. “Davis, what’s—”
“I missed you.”
She knew that voice, knew it at once. Goose bumps rose on her arms, and Jamie felt all the blood drain from her face.
“You didn’t miss me, though, did you? You just found someone else. Moved on, as if I didn’t matter.”
“Henry.” She should move. Run into the hallway. Get Mac. Let him know that Henry was on the line. I knew Henry was down here. No one else would want to burn my house. No one else would want to—
“One is dead, and one is still alive. But there sure is a lot of blood.”
Her heart stopped. “Wh-what?”
“Your lovers,” he said, as if she should understand. “I’m looking at them now. One is dead, and one is still alive.”
He called me on Davis’s phone! Nausea rose in her throat even as she stumbled toward the door.
“I don’t really care about them.” His voice was so mild, as if he were just talking about the weather. Not life or death. “It’s you that matters. You’ve always mattered to me.”
“Then leave them alone!” One is dead. Not Davis. Not Davis, please.
“Come to me, and I will. I’ll leave them just as they are. Maybe help will arrive. Maybe one will live. But I need you to come to me, Jamie.”
“I will,” she promised. She would have promised anything if it meant that Davis would be all right. “Where are you?”
“At your house, Jamie...well, what’s left of it.” His voice snapped then. “I had to punish you for all those long years. Years that we should have spent together.”
He’s not any better. The stories were wrong. He’s just as twisted as he was before.
No, he was worse.
“Go back to your house, Jamie. Come back alone. Just you and me, and I’ll leave them where they are.”
“Where are they?” Jamie whispered.
“The motel. Sean’s motel room. Both of them are there.” Static crackled over the line. “Tell me, which one do you want to live? The one who sold you out? Or the one who was coming to fight for you? Davis McGuire...he’s a lot like me, Jamie.”
“He’s nothing like you.”
“He’s got that killer instinct. I know what he was coming here to do. I just beat him to the punch.”
Jamie shook her head. “He’s nothing like you,” she said again.
He just laughed. “You’re coming to me, aren’t you, Jamie?”
“Yes.”
“See you soon, sweet Jamie. So soon...”
; He hung up on her, and she raced into the hallway. “Mac!”
Chapter Eleven
At her cry, Mac shot up from his seat and lunged toward her.
Jamie’s whole body was shaking.
“What’s happening?” Mac demanded. He grabbed her arms, holding tight.
And she clung to him just as fiercely. “You have to get to Davis. He’s hurt.” Not dead. Not dead. Not Davis.
“What?”
“Henry just called me.” Her words were tumbling out, and she didn’t even know if they were making sense. “He said...he said he was at Sean’s motel room. That Davis and Sean—they were there, hurt.” Her breath burned in her lungs, but the rest of her body felt ice cold. “He told me one of them was dead.”
Mac paled.
And then she heard a ringing. Not her phone this time, but his. Mac pulled away and yanked the phone out. He looked at the screen, then put the phone to his ear. “Grant, we’ve got a problem. It’s Davis—” He broke off, listened for a moment, then said, “We need the cops there. Jamie just said that freak Henry called her—”
“From Davis’s phone,” she whispered.
Mac tensed. “She said he’s hurt Davis. Hell, yes, I’m on my way there now. No, no, he damn well better be all right.” He shoved the phone back down. His eyes shone with fury and deadly intent. “Grant told me the motel’s location. He’s en route and so am I. We’ll get the cops there—”
“But—”
“You stay here. With that guy running around loose, who the hell knows what he’ll do next?”
I know. He told me where he was going. “But, Mac, he said—”
She was talking to air. Mac had already run out of the door.
“Ohmygod...” That stunned whisper came from behind Jamie. She whirled around. Sylvia was there, staring at her with wide, stark eyes. “The man you told me about... Henry...he’s really here?”
“Not here,” Jamie said. She was still ice cold. Numb. Davis has to be all right. “He’s on his way to my house—my property. I need to get the cops out there.” And she needed to get to Davis’s side. “Can I borrow your car?” Jamie asked because she could already hear the growl of Mac’s engine outside. She had to hurry if she was going to follow him, and her car was out at the McGuire ranch.