by Rita Herron
Or for her mother.
Maybe it was better if she gave up. Let them kill her. Then she wouldn’t be forced to do those awful things.
Vile acts she’d refused to commit in the beginning. But they’d beaten her down. Driven her into submission. She couldn’t fight their control any longer. Her mommy was never coming back. And the others…their eyes were so empty. Their bodies tortured just like hers. The cries she used to hear at night fading into acceptance.
Then she saw the fire. Cutting through the dark. Eating at her feet. The devil’s hands reached for her.
She latched onto his hand.
No, she had to escape. Free herself. But there was no way out. No escape. Nothing but pain and whispers of evil.
She had to follow his commands.
Then another devil stood before her. This man prepared to kill her. She aimed the gun and fired…saw the man’s face in death. His bloody body.
The Master would be pleased. Wouldn’t punish her tonight.
But there was always tomorrow…
It would never end. It would start all over again in the morning. The pain. The isolation. The emptiness.
The unknown horrors.
Unless she ended it herself.
She closed her eyes, opened her mouth, drank in the salty water and braced herself to die. Death was the only way to stop the torture….
LUKE SEARCHED frantically for Stella, breaking only long enough to drag in a gulp of air. Thankfully he didn’t hear the shooters any longer, but what had happened to Stella? She couldn’t be dead.
His heart pounding, he dove beneath the murky water, wishing like hell it wasn’t so damn black. He swam deeper, turning in circles, pedaling his arms as he swam further out from the shore. The tide was going out. What if the undertow had carried her out to sea?
Plowing on at least another quarter mile, he finally spotted her gun against a rock. Stella had to be close by. He swam faster. A few feet away, Stella’s body sank deeper and deeper toward the bottom. He broke into a fast underwater swim, fighting the waves until he reached her. Bubbles floated upward, alerting him to the fact that she was in trouble.
He grabbed her and swam upward, kicking frantically, his pulse accelerating at the sight of the blood seeping from her arm. Finally, he broke the surface, gulped in air, then secured one arm around her and swam toward the embankment. Another couple of minutes and he dragged her onto the bank, laid her on the grassy slope and checked to see if she was breathing.
No.
Dear God.
He tilted her head back, cleared her air passage, pinched her nose and began CPR, counting and breathing in and out for her, praying at the same time. Tension swirled around him, the waves crashing below reminding him that another few seconds, and he would have been too late.
“Come on, Stella, dammit, you can’t die on me.” He performed another set of compressions, then breathed into her mouth one more time, pulling back to check her reaction. A heartbeat later, she coughed and began to spit up. He sighed with relief, and tilted her head sideways until she purged herself of the salty water.
“God, Stella, you scared the life out of me.”
She gasped and choked again, tears streaming down her face as he dragged her into his arms and rocked her.
Minutes ticked by as they held on to each other, her sobs escalating as he cradled her closer.
“You should have let me die,” she whispered.
His chest squeezed at her tortured words. “Shh, don’t say that.”
“It’s true. You don’t know everything, you should have let me die. Then it would be over.”
“What would be over?”
“The pain,” she cried. “Sutton would be gone, and you would be safe….”
He cupped her face into one hand and angled her chin up to look into her eyes, her comment moving something deep inside him.
“I didn’t deserve to be saved,” she said in an anguished whisper.
“Don’t talk like that, Stella. You’re delirious.” He glanced at the embankment, hoping backup had caught the car that had hit them as he grabbed his phone to call for an ambulance.
She clutched his arm in panic. “What are you doing?”
“Calling an ambulance.”
“No, no hospitals.” She shoved at his shoulders, but he held her securely. She had a fear of hospitals, he realized, remembering the night he’d arranged for the exam. And when he’d seen her in the prison the next morning…had her reaction been due to the confinement or the hospital visit? What exactly had happened to Stella?
“Please,” she whispered. “I’m okay now. It’s just a scrape. I don’t need to go to a hospital.”
He studied her face. Decided that if Sutton were behind the shooting and their accident, he’d probably check there anyway. A safe house might be better.
“I’ll call Detective Black then. He’ll help us.”
She frowned, and he realized he’d used the term to refer to both of them, as if they were together in this. It was true. He was crossing the line now. Something he’d vowed never to do.
But he couldn’t leave Stella. Had known the minute he’d found her again that he wouldn’t stop until he unraveled the entire truth.
The phone was dead, so he ran to the road and flagged down a trucker. The big, burly man handed Luke his cell immediately. Luke dialed Detective Black and explained the situation. “Did you catch the shooter?”
“No, sorry, we lost the car, but I’ve called in other units, maybe they’ll spot the guy.”
Luke grimaced.
“Are you all right?” Black asked. “Do you need an E.M.T.?”
“No, we’re okay. We just need a ride.”
“I’ll be right there,” Black said.
Luke hung up, then cradled Stella closer and checked her wound. “We’ll go to a safe house. Once you’re rested, we’ll talk.”
She nodded, then closed her eyes and gave in to the exhaustion. He held her tightly in his arms, his thoughts scattered. What was he going to do now?
In spite of his reservations, the answer came to him. He’d protect Stella from Sutton or whoever else was after her. And he’d track down the person responsible for trying to kill them tonight, and learn the truth about her past.
Then he vowed to get vengeance on the man who’d tried to kill her.
BY THE TIME Black arrived, Stella had fallen into a deep, troubled sleep. Luke carried her to Detective Black’s car, slid inside and held her in his lap.
“Does she need a doctor?”
“Probably,” Luke said. “But she refuses medical care. I’ll find a safe place for the night and watch over her.”
Black chewed the inside of his cheek. “Are you sure that’s smart, Devlin? We both know Spencer is concerned about your objectivity.”
“She’s my wife, dammit.” Luke grimaced and brushed a strand of damp hair from her face. “I know she lied, that she’s not what she first appeared to be, so I’m not wearing blinders. But something else is going on.”
Black remained silent for a moment, then finally replied, “All right. I know a place.” Black veered onto the road and headed in the opposite direction toward Skidaway island. “What do you mean about something else going on?”
He explained about the ambush. “Stella muttered some odd things back there. I think her memories may be surfacing.”
“And you believe she’ll confide in you even though she’s aware you’re committed to the bureau.”
Luke nodded. Was he as committed as Black thought? As he’d thought himself? Just how far would he cross the line for Stella?
“I need time to talk to her,” Luke said.
“You mean an interrogation?” Black cut him a small smile.
Luke nodded, grateful for Black’s leeway.
“I can give you that,” Black said. “But keep me posted.”
“Thanks, Detective. I owe you one.”
“Don’t make me regret it,” Black said. “But for
what it’s worth, I understand what it’s like.”
“What do you mean?”
“To fall for a woman who’s in trouble.” He lifted his hand and Luke saw the wedding band glinting in the light. “I’d do anything for my wife and baby,” he said. “Anything at all.”
Luke glanced down at Stella. Saw her face twist in anguish. Remembered her plea that she should have died. Wondered what kind of nightmares were tormenting her now. What kind had tormented her the last year. And maybe her entire life.
Something bad had happened to Stella to bring her to this point.
And he would find out what that was. And if Sutton were behind it, he’d kill the bastard for hurting her.
STELLA ROUSED from sleep as Luke laid her on a bed. “Where are we?”
“A safe house. It’s a cabin on Skidaway Island.”
“They’ll find us.”
“No, no one knows we’re here. We can get some rest. Regroup in the morning.”
She nodded, hugging her arms to herself. She was so wet and cold. Troubling memories bombarded her. Going for days without food. Without water or sleep. Lying in the dark. Alone.
Never knowing if anyone would come for her.
And then the pain…
“Shh.” Luke brushed her hair from her face. Wiped a tear from her cheek when she didn’t even realize she’d been crying. “We have to remove these wet clothes,” he murmured.
She struggled to keep her eyes open. Although it was hot outside, her teeth were chattering. And she was trembling all over.
Luke removed her blouse, her pants, her underwear came next. She felt so vulnerable. Then she realized he was getting naked, too. He was going to make love to her.
A sweet euphoria washed over her. She reached for him as he slid beneath the covers beside her. He cradled her in his arms, pulled her up next to his warm body. Her arms slid around his waist, her head found his broad shoulder as a pillow. His coarse chest hair brushed her cheek. Felt heavenly.
She stroked his back, felt the muscles bunch and contract. Lifted her lips to plant soft kisses against his neck.
“Shh, go back to sleep, Stella.”
She nodded against him, fatigue already dragging her back into a deep sleep. But she wanted Luke. Needed him closer. Craved his loving touches. His kisses and hands exploring her. Ached to have him inside her.
She slid one hand lower.
“Stella, you need to rest.” He rolled her away from him, then spooned her, his arms holding her securely in his embrace. Stella smiled into the pillow. She’d never had a man hold her with such tenderness.
Giving in to the sweet sensation, she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, dreaming of tomorrow. This one filled with hope, not despair. And the promise of making love with Luke.
But soon the nightmares began.
And she was telling Luke the truth, at least parts that she could remember. This time he wasn’t holding her or making love. Instead he carted her back to jail to be locked up like an animal.
And then he left her alone…
IT TOOK EVERY OUNCE of Luke’s restraint not to make love to Stella. He wanted her with an intensity that frightened him.
But he’d already crossed the line tonight. He should have called his superior.
Spencer doesn’t trust you.
And hiding Stella like this would only make him appear guilty of crossing over.
If he made love to her tonight, there was no going back. He’d completely lose his objectivity.
Questions tormented him during the long restless night, just as Stella’s nightmares tortured her.
“No, so cold. Need light.” She moaned and clutched at his arms, trembling anew. “No more darkness.”
He hugged her closer, rocking her gently until she settled back down. But other murmurings drifted from her lips during the night. More comments that sounded like agony.
He swallowed hard, hating the images that flashed in his head. And when morning slashed through the windows, bringing the first strains of daylight, he knew Stella’s nightmares were very real. Memories, not dreams.
She scooted closer to him, seemed to melt into his body. Other emotions stirred inside him. Protective feelings he shouldn’t allow.
Arousal pulsed through him, too. His sex hardened, the feel of her naked body brushing his another kind of torment. When she rolled over and opened her eyes, the sultry sleepy look of a hungry woman, he finally relented, bowed his head and kissed her.
One kiss nearly sent his world spinning. She slid a hand into his hair, pulled him closer. Her taut nipples stabbed at his chest, begging for touches. He obliged, stroking and rubbing. Her leg slipped between his, her foot massaging his calf, her sex brushing his in a sensual game of male meets female.
He teased her lips apart with his tongue, delving inside to taste her. She sighed and ran her hands over his chest, around to his back, gyrating her body toward him, fitting herself so his erection throbbed against her thigh. He cupped her breast in one hand, the other lowering to tease her lips apart, probe her wetness. His heart pounding, he suckled her breasts, first one, then the other, savoring her reaction.
He had to have more. Had to taste her everywhere. He dipped his head lower, licked a path down her body. Spread her legs and placed his tongue where his fingers had been, to the heart of her. She bucked upward, clawing at the sheets, moaning his name as her wetness filled his mouth.
Then she flipped him over. Reversed the positions. Slid lower. Kissed his chest. Licked her way to his navel. Her hand cupped his sex and stroked his hardness. Her mouth came nearer.
When he realized her intention, he froze. Realized what he was doing.
Crossing the line even further. Breaking his own promise.
He pushed her hand away, lifted her gently. “No, Stella.”
A stunned, almost hurt look flickered in her eyes when she looked up at him. He almost relented.
But if he did, he’d never be able to release her. Never know the truth.
If she were seducing him for deceptive reasons.
“I want to give you pleasure,” she whispered.
Heaven help him, she was a vixen.
“Not now.”
“But why?” she whispered. “You saved my life, Luke. You took care of me.” She traced a finger over the damp moisture on the tip of his sex.
He shuddered, then gripped her shoulders, drawing on restraint he didn’t even know he possessed. “I don’t want to have sex with you, Stella, as some kind of payment. I want it to be more.”
Her face flushed crimson. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
He swallowed, still so tempted. Why did he feel this intensely urgent pull toward her, when with other women, he’d been void of emotion?
But everything was different with Stella.
He brushed the back of his hand down her cheek tenderly. “I have a feeling people have been taking from you all your life, using you, Stella. I don’t want that.” He stood, his sex throbbing, pulsing toward her. His heart squeezed. “When we make love again, and we will make love,” he said in a gruff voice, “I don’t want lies or secrets between us. I want you completely.”
SUTTON PACED his study, gripped the phone in one hand while he poured himself a third scotch and downed it. His boss had been on a tirade for half an hour.
“What the hell is going on with the Segall woman?”
“I thought I had her under control.” But the call from Jaycee and Kat had proven differently. And now Stella had disappeared with Luke Devlin.
“It certainly doesn’t sound that way.”
Fury rolled through him. He gripped the highball glass so hard it shattered. Blood trickled down his palm onto the oriental rug.
He grabbed a handkerchief and wrapped his hand quickly. The rug was a piece of art. He couldn’t ruin it.
Just like he couldn’t let Stella ruin the project.
“She’s been a loose cannon for a long time. We should have eliminated her when we e
rased the others.”
Sutton’s chest constricted, and he reached for the scotch bottle again. Stella had always been his favorite. Once upon a time, he’d had her under his thumb. She’d followed his every command. She’d been like a daughter.
Then her memories had started returning. And the blasted questions.
“You have to erase her,” the Master said. “We can’t afford for her to ruin our Nighthawk Island setup.”
“The past will stay buried,” Sutton assured him.
“It had better,” the man growled. “Now bury the woman and that agent while you’re at it.”
Chapter Nine
Stella hugged the covers to her as Luke stalked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She had never imagined him saying no to her. And not because he didn’t want her, but because he did—completely.
A shiver traveled up her spine. Could she possibly give herself to a man completely?
Luke didn’t know what he was asking. Totally giving herself meant she would have to trust him. Relinquish her power. Be submissive again.
A position she had vowed never again to place herself in.
A sudden realization dawned on her. She had been trying to escape Sutton a year ago and had turned to Luke to help her. She didn’t recall all the details, but she had been fighting against Sutton’s control.
Although, Luke hadn’t meant his comment in the same way. He didn’t want control. Instead he wanted her heart and soul.
That was even more scary. It meant telling him the truth. Confessing her sinful secrets. Exposing her vulnerablities.
Remembering things she’d shut out because they were too horrible to face.
And if she did admit the ugly truth, he wouldn’t want her…
He was a lawman, a man of honor. A man who’d given her pleasure without taking his own.
When all Sutton had done was take from her. First her childhood. Then her willpower. Even her desire to live.
The shower door opened, steam oozing out, and Luke appeared with a towel wrapped around his waist. Moisture still dotted his dark chest, and his black hair was tousled and wet. A savage hunger rose inside her. She wanted to run her hands through his hair. All over his body. Strip the towel and make love to him.