Carter Reed

by Tijan

  that they would be cold, that they would cool me off, but they weren’t. My jeans were warm and sweaty. I could smell traces of blood still on them, though I had showered…hadn’t I? I didn’t remember anymore. Was Mallory’s blood still on me or was that Jeremy’s? Was their blood ingrained with me now? I gasped for breath. A part of me wanted to still have Jeremy’s blood on me. He deserved to die again. He deserved to die a worse way than a bullet to the head.

  I didn’t know how long I stayed like that. The room remained in silence and then it was flooded with light.

  I fell to the side and closed my eyes against how sudden it was. It blinded me. When I opened them, with my chest still heaving and my heart still pounding, I still wasn’t ready to see him. But there he was. Carter Reed.

  I stopped all thinking, all feeling, as I took in the sight of him.

  He was perched against the glass wall, his arms folded over his chest, and his icy eyes focused on me. They were piercing blue, like a wolf’s, and he never blinked. Not when I roamed over the rest of him. His dirty blonde hair had been kept long when we were kids. He would tuck it behind his ears and let it grow until an inch above his shoulders. That’s how he liked it, he told me once. It was cut short now, but it suited him. A vacuum effect had taken over my oxygen. I couldn’t seem to get enough as I realized that the last few times I had seen him didn’t do him justice, not when I saw him up close and personal now. His high cheekbones led to an angular face, which moved to lips that seemed perfect. He had long eyelashes that were curled with a natural perfection that females longed to have. He straightened against the wall, but still remained against it. His shirt slid across his chest and shoulders, across the canvas of muscles. He had sculpted his body into a weapon. He had done it on purpose.

  Shit. He was perfect. And he was a killer.

  I wet my lips and then gasped as I realized what I had done. I couldn’t have done that, not here. No way. But I had, and a small smirk appeared on his face. He knew the reaction he was getting from me. I tried to stomp it all down, but it didn’t. I became wet between my legs and a slow throb started.

  I tore my eyes from his. It took a concerted effort from me, but then a low, smooth chuckle came from him. “No one knows how AJ died except his sister. I needed to make sure it was you.”

  He had to make sure? He was wary of me? The irony wasn’t lost on me. He was the killer. I was not. But no, I sobered at that thought. I was a killer too.

  “Yeah, well…it’s me.”

  He pushed up from the wall and strolled around to the openings of the couches, two steps above me. He gazed down at me, and then gave me a brisk nod. “Stand up.”

  I did. Reluctantly.

  His eyes slid up and down me. It was an intense perusal, slow and steady. He didn’t miss a thing. His eyes lingered on my knee, where I knew some of my tears had fallen before I stopped them. Then he instructed, in that same cold and detached voice, “Turn around.”

  My eyes shot to his. “No.”

  “Turn around, Emma.”

  Waves of desire washed over me when he said my name. I gasped against them. I didn’t want them, I didn’t want that. I sucked in my breath, he couldn’t know. Clenching my jaw, I turned my hands into fists and pressed them against me. I willed my own body not to betray me, but I still turned around. Different waves of humiliation came next. I was the cow being led to slaughter. I felt poked and prodded as he continued his silent inspection of me.

  “You’ve lost weight.” He waved to the kitchen. “There’s pizza up there, if you’d like.”

  I clamped my mouth shut. My stomach growled and I salivated at the mention of food. When had I eaten last? I couldn’t remember—in the diner, after we had killed Jeremy. No, after I had killed him. I had tried to make myself eat something, but I couldn’t. I needed something in my stomach, but anything else would’ve been vomited. I filled it up with coffee instead.

  I moved past him for the food, but he caught my arm and pressed me against him.

  “No!” I didn’t want to be touched. The image of Mallory being hurt flared through me, and I yanked my arm back, but he wouldn’t let go. Then I was lifted and pushed against a wall. He held me trapped in his arms. “I said no!” I tried to lift my legs to kick him, but he had me paralyzed within his hold. As I seethed and lunged at him, only my stomach lifted from the wall. It didn’t matter. He held my arms above my head, and moved them both into only one of his hands. His legs were pressed against mine. I couldn’t move at all now. My heart was racing, but I whimpered. My breathing grew shallow and the ache between my legs was almost unbearable now.

  He lifted back, just an inch, and looked up and down my body.

  My chest kept heaving. He could see my breasts through my shirt, but he didn’t touch them. I bit down on my lip. I wanted him to touch them. I wanted the feel of his hand there, but I couldn’t ask that. I couldn’t let him know. A small whimper slipped past, and his eyes shot to mine. A small flicker of shock was there. It was gone instantly.

  Then he stepped back. As soon as his hands released me, I crumbled to the floor. I should’ve kicked at him, something so he would know not to do that again, but he was quicker than me. He always had been. He would’ve done it again. I would’ve been pressed against the wall once more and my body couldn’t handle that. Everything was a mess inside of me.

  He moved back a step. “What’s happened to you, Emma?”

  I couldn’t look away from him. He held me captive. My heart wouldn’t stop racing.

  “You’re like a feral cat.”

  My knees came to my chest and I wrapped my arms around them. With a groan, I tucked my forehead against them. I wanted everything to go away. I wanted my brother back. I wanted no Jeremy in Mallory’s life. And I didn’t want Carter to have become this man in front of me. Shame filled me next as the throb picked up again. God, how could I want this man? He was cold, detached. He killed others.

  So have you. A nagging thought whispered in the back of my mind.

  The pizza box was thrown beside me. The smell overwhelmed me. My mouth salivated again and my stomach clenched. I reached for it without thinking. I shoveled a slice into my mouth, then tried to get more in. I was so hungry.

  After the third slice, I choked back the vomit. My stomach growled again, but in agony this time. Then I shot to my feet and looked around, panicked as I felt more vomit spew inside of my closed mouth.

  Carter pointed to a side door and I burst through it the next second. I fell to my knees around the toilet and emptied everything back out. More and more kept coming up, even more and I wondered how that was possible. There was nothing in my stomach. It was like my body wanted to erase everything as much as I did.

  When I stopped, with my mouth covered in vomit, I rested my forehead against the lid and gasped for breath. I felt so weak, so helpless in that moment.

  A glass of water was placed beside me. A gentle hand brushed some of my hair back as Carter lowered himself to the ground. He gazed back at me, but this time it was the old Carter. The killer from before was gone. He gave me a small grin. “I’ll take care of you.”

  Relief soared through me and my body gave way. But before I slid to the floor in a crumbled heap again, he caught my arm and hoisted me to his lap. Then as I curled into him, his hand went back to my hair and he brushed it back. Slowly, with my heart still pounding, I rested my head against his chest and felt his other arm came around me.

  Finally.

  Carter cleaned me up. He lifted me, sat me on the bathroom counter, gave me mouthwash, and held the glass so I could spit it out. After I was given more water, he carried me back to the kitchen table. This time, he gave me the crust from one of the pizza slices. With stern instructions to nibble on it, he left for awhile.

  I didn’t know what he did, or where he disappeared to. I knew he was in the penthouse, I could hear him on the phone, but that was all I cared about. He wasn’t leaving so I picked up the crust and started to do as he sa
id. I nibbled on the piece of bread until the entire thing was gone. Then I waited, and when nothing came up this time, I grabbed another piece of pizza. This time I tore some of the toppings off and nibbled on those.

  I almost groaned at how good they tasted.

  It’d been so long since I had real food inside of me.

  “How are you feeling?”

  He stood beside the counter, watching me. A blank expression was on his face and I couldn’t stop the shiver down my back. He was a stranger again. This was the Carter that I didn’t know, and I wondered where the old one went before I remembered the phone call. It must’ve been the phone call that changed him.

  “I’m fine.”

  He frowned and took the seat across from me.

  He moved like a ghost and folded into the seat with a grace of a panther, one that stirred with purpose.

  “What are you thinking, Emma?”

  I jerked at my name. It was foreign to me. The sensual way he had spoken before was gone. It was then that I realized he had done it on purpose. He wanted to invoke desire within me so he had. Was everything about him a weapon? His voice, his eyes, his body, his mind?

  I looked down at my plate. “You’ve changed.”

  “Yes,” he sighed. “I suppose I have. Things were,” he hesitated, “easier back then.”

  I looked back up.

  He amended, “Relatively speaking, I guess.”

  “You guess?” Anger flared up in me. AJ had been addicted to gambling and drugs. He owed the mob money and they killed him because of it. Our parents had been absent since before I could remember, and Carter hadn’t had it easier. With a drunk as a father and an addict as a mother, he spent most of his nights on our couch. For as long as I could remember, he always had bruises when he would come over.

  I spat out, “You must be remembering things differently than me. Things never got easier, it just changed.”

  A small chuckle set the hairs on the back of my neck upright. He sat back in his chair. “Things were easier for me, Emma. I didn’t have to worry about killing people.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to scare me?”

  He leaned forward. “I’m not the same boy who needs somewhere to sleep anymore. Looks to me like our roles have changed, Emma.” A hard wall slipped over his face. “Why don’t you tell me the real reason you’re here? You sought me out. Here I am. What’s your crisis?”

  I sucked in my breath. If only it were that easy. I shook my head. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Did I say something to offend you?” A faint glimmer of a smile flared, but it was gone. His eyes fell flat again. “You came to me. You tell me why.”

  I opened my mouth.

  “And you can drop your attitude. I don’t tolerate it from my men. I won’t tolerate it from you, whether you knew me in the past or not.”

  I closed my mouth and sat there stunned. He was right. I wouldn’t talk like this to another in his position. The Carter I had known was no longer. I saw that now. I realized that now. Pushing up from the table, I knew I’d made a mistake. “I’m sorry. I need to go.”

  “Stop,” he ordered.

  I fell back down, but it wasn’t because I made a conscious decision. My body reacted to his command. He said it and I obeyed. I sat for a second, blinking in a daze, as I comprehended what happened. It was so instant, so quick.

  As anger boiled again, I leaned forward. I was ready with a scathing comment, but he sighed.

  His eyes softened. “I haven’t heard from AJ’s little sister in ten years. I’d like to know the reason you’re here now.”

  Oh.

  All the anger, resentment, and foolish feelings vanished. I remembered my reason and the nightmare flooded back. Panic and desperation were my friends again. They clung to me. I struggled to find the words. When my arm started to shake, he seemed to grow colder. His eyes darkened and anger stirred in them.

  “Who hurt you, Emma?” His voice was sensual, but there was an underlining tone of icy disdain.

  Fresh shivers wracked me. My eyes clasped shut. What had I done to him? I felt his hatred. It gutted me.

  “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened.”

  I choked out, “But maybe you’ll hurt me.”

  “I would never hurt you.”

  “Promise?” I held my breath. I was depending on him, everything centered on him. Mallory needed him. I needed him.

  “I promise.”

  Relief washed over me and I sagged in my chair. My throat choked up. Then I whispered, in a hoarse voice, “I did something.”

  He nodded.

  My insides tightened. I couldn’t say it. It’d be real, but I already had said it out loud. Still, Carter was different. Once he knew, I couldn’t undo whatever would happen next.

  “What did you do?” He softened his tone.

  He was persuading me now. He wanted me to confide in him. If only it were that easy. I could just open up and share my problems to him, but no. Was this the right decision? Could I trust him? I didn’t know him anymore. He was the Cold Killer. I hadn’t known that man from before. I only knew the boy he’d been.

  “Emma.”

  I looked at him. The tears blurred him in my vision.

  “I know you’re debating whether or not to tell me what happened, but if you’re here with me then I’m your only choice. I know you. I remember the smart girl you were. I was always proud of how you handled yourself. You were a survivor, all those years ago. I knew it then. I know it now.” He leaned forward. A glimmer of the old Carter shone through to me. “You have to tell me. I won’t hurt you. I’ve already promised you that.”

  I nodded. He was right. He was so right. He was the only one. But I couldn’t look at him. I hung my head and whispered, “I killed someone.”

  “Who?”

  There was no reaction. Just a question. The ball of fear in me loosened. “He was hurting my roommate.”

  “Who did you kill, Emma?”

  He said my name so that it felt like he was caressing me with it. I relaxed a bit more. It was easier to speak. “He was raping her when I went into the apartment.” Then, I closed up. I couldn’t say. He was the mob. Carter was the mob. Carter would hand me over.

  “Who was raping your roommate?”

  I shook my head again. “I can’t say it.”

  “You have to.” Gone was the softness. He had hardened again.

  I jerked back in my chair. The stranger sat across from me once more. Now I knew for sure, I had to get out of there. I tried to swallow over the knot of terror that was lodged in my throat again. I looked for the door. I could make it—there was a guard out there. My eyes swung back to Carter. I would have to stop him. He couldn’t alert the guard about me. But how? I had no idea.

  His phone rang from a room. He must’ve left it. When he turned, I bolted for the door. It was my only chance.

  He caught me around the waist. I made it to him, but that was as far as I got. As he picked me up with one iron-clad arm, he said over my struggles, “You’re being ridiculous, Emma.”

  I kicked harder. “Let me go!”

  “No.”

  My arm fought free and swung at him, but he deflected the blow and adjusted so he held both of my arms against my side. He carried me into a bedroom. I tried kicking backwards towards his groin, but he just grunted and moved his thigh so it was wedged between my legs. As I kicked again, he raised his leg higher so I was straddling him. My feet swung, but only touched air now. I was helpless so I used my last resort. My head went forward and then, as I bit my lip, I rammed it backwards.

  “Oomph.” He twisted to the side, a low chuckle sounded into my ear.

  “Agh!” I tried hitting my head to the side, but I didn’t have the angle to do any damage. “Carter! Let me go!”

  As he chuckled again, he sat down on the bed while he still held me in his arms. My back was pressed against him and he tightened his arms around me. One shifted up so he could use h
is shoulder to keep my head close to the side of his. I couldn’t do a thing. Then he murmured into my ear, his breath caressing me, “You’re still the fighter AJ raised. He’d be proud.”

  That sent another burst of fight through me. I tried wiggling, thrusting, but nothing. He sat and held me until I stopped. I had moved lower on his lap somehow. “Let me go, Carter. Please.”

  In a flash he twisted and I was on the bed now. He straddled me instead, with his legs on each of mine and my hands were raised above my head. He held them with one of his, leaving his other free to grab my chin. He forced me to look at him as he loomed above me. His body wasn’t pressed down on me. He held himself in the air and