***
Schlick. Schlick. Schlick.
The rhythmic metallic sound wormed its way into Tessa’s dreams, threatening to wake her up. She nestled her head deeper into the pillow, but it didn’t stop.
Schlick. Schlick.
The relentless sound held on to her and pulled her toward reality.
She was already becoming more aware of the throbbing soreness that seemed to have invaded every cell of her body. She knew it would only grow worse the moment she joined the land of the living, so she fought to stay in the twilight between dreams and consciousness. But it was no use.
Her eyes flickered open.
A strange man was sitting on the window seat across from her, one bent leg propped on top of the opposite knee. Heavily tattooed arms showed from underneath the sleeves of his black T-shirt. In one hand, he held a thin, gray, rectangular stone, and in his other a large serrated knife that he was sharpening against it.
Schlick.
Panic swelled in Tessa. She shot up and kicked backwards at the same time.
“Rhys!” She screamed the name without thinking. After all that had happened last night Tessa wasn’t entirely sure that the man was real and not a product of her fevered mind.
But all her doubts were erased a second later, when the bedroom door was thrown open, and her blond Adonis came crashing in.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. His whole body was tense, but he didn’t even look in the other man’s direction.
Couldn’t he see the madman with the knife? Maybe not. Maybe she had lost her damned mind. Just to be sure, Tessa pointed a shaky finger at the stranger.
The tattooed man lifted his head and locked eyes with Rhys. He didn’t bother putting the knife down.
“Ah,” Rhys said, instantly relaxing. “Dr. Tessa Rosenthal, let me introduce you to a good friend of mine, Jake Thorne.”
“A friend?” Tessa’s brows shot up. “The guy sharpening a knife in the corner is your friend?”
“Jake’s one of the few people I trust,” Rhys said. “He watched over you for a few hours this morning so I could get some sleep.”
The tattoo guy—Jake—put the knife down on the window seat and stood up. If he thought that he looked any less intimidating without a weapon, he was dead wrong.
“Sorry if I upset you, Dr.,” Jake said. “But I can assure you that if anyone had come in here last night, they would have regretted it.”
“Th-thank you,” Tessa said. She wasn’t sure how exactly she was supposed to react to that statement.
Tessa looked between the two men. They were a matching pair—fire and ice. Both lethal, just in different ways. It made sense that they were friends.
But what didn’t make sense was why they were here with her.
Who the hell were they anyway? It struck Tessa that she really didn’t know much more than their names. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She knew Rhys had no problem knocking out a couple of heavily armed guards, and that Jake really liked his knives.
It wasn’t the sort of knowledge that inspired a whole lot of confidence.
“I’ll be out front if you need me,” Jake said, patting Rhys once on the shoulder before heading toward the door.
Rhys nodded. He waited until his friend was outside before he turned back to her. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore.” That was the understatement of the year. She twisted at the waist, trying to stretch away some of the tightness, then hissed in a breath as a stabbing pain seized her side. She almost collapsed on the mattress, but Rhys’ hands clasped her shoulders, steadying her.
“Careful,” he said. “Don’t do too much. It’s going to take some time to heal after what you’ve been through.”
Tessa cocked her head to the side. What she’d been through? What could he possibly know about that?
She ran through her memories of last night. The escape. The drive. The resetting of her arm. After that everything became fuzzy.
Fuzzy and floaty and warm.
Because he’d drugged her.
He’d said he’d given her morphine for the pain, but here she was, waking up in a strange house, with strange men. All of them knowing a hell of a lot more about her than she knew about them. God only knew what she’d blabbed to him last night after he’d dosed her with opiates.
Hopefully nothing about San Jose.
San Jose.
Tessa’s stomach turned over in her belly. How could she have forgotten for even a second?
Tessa glanced at the window as she scooted over to the far side of the bed. The soft yellow light filtering in through the blinds told her it was morning. Hopefully, that meant she still had time.
“I’m actually feeling much better,” she said, turning her back to Rhys as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Thankfully they held her weight as her feet hit the floor. Just barely, but still. “I appreciate everything you did for me last night, but I think I should be on my way.”
“I don’t think that would be a very good idea,” he said. “Boyd is out there looking for you, and you’re hurt. You’re much safer here than wherever you’re trying to get.”
“I’m not that bad,” Tessa said, looking down at herself. She froze as, for the first time, she realized that she was no longer wearing her own clothes. Instead she was wearing a man’s white oxford shirt. She swiveled around to face Rhys. “Why am I wearing your clothes?”
“Yours were ruined,” he said plainly. “I didn’t think you’d want to be left uncovered after I’d seen to your injuries.”
“Seen to my injuries?” Tessa pulled back the collar and looked down. Sure enough, her cuts had been cleaned. A fresh bandage was wrapped around her ribcage, but black and purple marks still showed above and below its borders.
Tessa closed her eyes and let the shirt fall.
Memories of how she’d received those bruises rose up in her mind. Tessa fought to push them back, but like a breaking wave, they washed over her.
She wasn’t upset that Rhys had tended her wounds. She was ashamed that he—that anyone—had seen her in this state. Hot tears pricked at her eyes.
“I really need to go,” she said. Her legs were shaking as bad as her voice as she started looking around the bed for her clothes.
“Like I said, Tessa, I don’t think that’s the best idea.”
Her head snapped up. The bed was still between them, but suddenly, it didn’t seem like a big enough buffer. Then again, Tessa couldn’t think of a distance large enough that would make her feel safe from the swirling mass of conflicting emotions this man conjured in her.
He’d rescued her from the worst situation of her life, but she knew nothing about him. He’d expertly treated her injuries, though he was obviously a dangerous man. She knew she couldn’t trust him, but she couldn’t help but feel safe when he was by her side. Her head spun.
“No offense, but I don’t really care what you think,” Tessa said, as panic started to bubble inside her. “You don’t understand what’s really going on here.”
“So, explain it to me,” he said, taking a small step toward her.
Tessa tensed. “No.”
The mood in the room changed, becoming heavy as Rhys’ eyes locked with hers. Seconds ticked by, but he didn’t make another move.
“Then I can’t let you go out there, Tessa,” he said.
Something inside Tessa snapped. Fear and desperation swelled inside her chest.
She swiveled around and grasped the knife that Jake had left behind and held it out in front of her. Rhys glanced at the blade, but his flat expression didn’t change.
Tessa lifted her chin, meeting his silent challenge. “Am I prisoner here?”
“No.” Rhys shook his head.
“Then let me leave.”
He didn’t move an inch. “Put down the knife, Tessa.”
“Get out of my way.”
“I’m not going to hurt you, Tessa,” he said calmly. “No one here is going to hurt you.”
Her hand started to shake. “I don’t even know who you are.”
“I’m a friend.”
“A friend that just happens to hang out at Anders Boyd’s house?” She gave a bitter laugh. “How can I be certain this isn’t one of his elaborate tricks?”
“No trick,” he said. “Just put down the knife.”
“Why? So I can be defenseless when you come at me with a needle again?” She spat the words at him, her voice growing louder. “So your friend can cut me with it when I don’t tell you what you want to know? So you can press it against my throat while threatening my family?”
Tessa felt the tears streaming down her cheeks. The shake in her hands moved all the way up to her shoulders.
Rhys shook his head as he took a slow step toward her.
“No,” he said, calmly. “Because I’m afraid you’re going to fall again and accidentally stab yourself.”
“Don’t come any closer.” Tessa kept her arm straight, as he took another step.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Tessa,” he repeated. “Just put down the knife.”
“I can’t,” she said honestly. She couldn’t lower her arm. She couldn’t stop fighting. Just like she couldn’t stop running.
“I know.” There was no judgment in his voice, just the glimmer of deep understanding in his eyes.
Rhys closed the distance between them so quickly that Tessa couldn’t do much more than gasp. His hand shot out and wrapped around her right wrist. His fingers pressed deep into the base of her thumb and her fist fell open.
The blade clattered to the floor between them.
Before Tessa could react, his arms enveloped her. He didn’t restrain her, just pressed her against his body as sobs started to wrack her.
“It’s okay, Tessa,” he whispered against her ear. “I’ve got you.”
Dear God, she didn’t want to fall apart. She really didn’t. But it was as if the dam inside her had broken, and all the fear, all the despair that had been swelling inside of her came pouring out.
Her knees buckled, but Rhys stayed with her, collapsing down to the floor. He gathered her up in his lap and held her there. He didn’t try to move or calm her. He didn’t say a word. He just stayed with her, holding her. For the moment, it felt like his embrace was the only thing keeping her together.
Tessa didn’t know how long she stayed like that, sobbing on the floor, but eventually the wave of raw emotion started to subside. She lifted her face and found Rhys staring down at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said the moment she looked into his bright blue eyes.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
Yeah, that wasn’t true. “I threatened you with a knife. I’ve never done anything like that before.” Embarrassment burned her cheeks.
The cold intensity she’d become so used to in his gaze faded a bit, replaced by a twinkle of warmth. “They say there’s a first time for everything.”
A shy smile pulled at the corners of Tessa’s lips. “I’m still sorry.”
She raised a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair away from her face, but Rhys reached it first. He slipped it behind her ear with surprising gentleness.
“It’s going to be okay, Tessa,” he said. His hand lingered by the side of her face. “I’m not going to let Dylan or Boyd hurt you ever again.”
Tessa’s brows pulled together for a fraction of a second before she caught herself and looked away. Of course, that was what he thought this was about. It was only natural to assume that she was concerned for her own safety.
It was probably better that she didn’t correct him. Let him believe that her fears were selfish. Maybe then he’d lower his guard and she’d get her chance to escape.
And she desperately needed that chance. Every minute she spent in this house was another minute that Boyd could discover her secret. It was as simple as that.
So why did keeping her mouth shut make her feel like she was betraying the man who had saved her?
Chapter Four
She was keeping something from him. Something big.
Even now, Rhys could feel her pulling away. Not physically, but emotionally.
He’d been surprised by how quickly he’d been able to form a connection with her. All it had taken was a little patience and tenderness, and she had stopped fighting. She’d relaxed in his arms. The suspicion was all but gone from her eyes.
But then all at once, the tension had returned. She wouldn’t even look him in the eye.
Was she afraid to put her life in the hands of a stranger, or was she ashamed of the reason that Boyd had taken her prisoner? Did she fear he would judge her for what she’d done, or did she fear legal consequences?
Rhys wouldn’t know which core emotion was behind her reticence until he could ask her more questions.
But now wasn’t the time.
Rhys could feel the anxious energy buzzing through her muscles. One wrong word and the fragile trust between them would shatter. She would shut down…maybe for good.
There would be plenty of time for questions later. Once Tessa had time to realize that he wasn’t playing her.
Rhys turned his head as a soft knock sounded against the bedroom door.
“Captain’s here.” Jake’s voice carried through from the other side.
Tessa’s eyes went wide as her face snapped to his. “The Captain?”
So much for calming her down.
“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s just my boss.”
Tessa scrambled to get out of his lap. Rhys helped her up to her feet. She wobbled for a moment, but quickly regained her footing.
“Your boss?” Her brows pulled together as she stumbled back a few steps.
“Carter Macmillan,” Rhys said, giving her all the space she wanted. “I work for Macmillan Security.”
Tessa’s eyes shifted back and forth for a moment, as though she was trying to place the name. Her head whipped up a moment later.
“You were the guys that brought down Congressman Fuller.” There was more than a hint of admiration in her voice.
“No,” Rhys admitted. “A journalist named Ally Weaver did that. We just helped her out.”
Tessa narrowed her eyes. “So, what were you doing at Boyd’s house last night?”
There was another soft knock on the door behind Rhys, but he ignored it.
“He was offering me a job,” he said. “I turned him down.”
Tessa’s lips pressed together as she mulled over his words. Her shoulders had just begun to relax a little when the knock came again, louder this time.
“Not now,” Rhys called out.
“Why is your boss here?” she asked.
“Because I want to help you, Tessa,” Rhys said. “But I can’t go after Boyd alone. I need my team.”
Tessa opened her mouth, but the bedroom door behind him creaked open before she could say anything.
Damnit.
“I said not now.” Rhys turned his gaze down to the floor as his back teeth ground together.
Tessa was asking questions. He was answering. They were so close to rebuilding the rapport they’d had a few minutes before.
“Sorry,” a familiar female voice came from the hallway. “But Carter is being a serious pain in the ass about seeing you, Rhys.”
Tessa’s brows shot up at the sight of the woman behind him.
“Tessa,” he said, through tight lips. “This is Charlie Keswick. She’s a…”
“…friend,” Charlie finished for him.
“…co-worker,” Rhys said at the same time.
Rhys turned around just in time to see Charlie give Tessa a wide, honest smile.
“Both,” Charlie said, stepping into the room. “Hi Dr. Rosenthal.”
Tessa eyed her skeptically, but she didn’t move away.
Charlie didn’t appear offended by the cold reception. Her smile remained as she lifted the plain green duffel bag at her side. “I brought you some clothes, along with some other stuff.”
/> “Thanks.” Tessa’s voice was still guarded as Charlie put the bag down on the bed.
“Don’t thank me yet. I’m not sure they’ll fit. I had to guess your size, since somebody couldn’t be bothered to check the labels in your old ones.” Charlie shot Rhys a pointed look.
“I told you they were ruined,” Rhys said in his defense.
“And I said you could guess,” Charlie shot back.
“I did.”
“Tiny is not a guess,” she said. “There is no size tiny. And if you spent any time around women you would know that.”
Rhys looked over to see Tessa pulling back the zipper on the bag. The corners of her lips lifted as she pulled a delicate blue top out.
“This’ll do just fine,” she said, looking up at Charlie. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Charlie said, before turning to Rhys. “Now, why don’t you go deal with the Captain while Tessa and I hang out.”
His eyes narrowed. “But—”
“I’ve got this, Rhys.” Charlie’s chin lifted a notch as she met his gaze.
Rhys stared down at her a moment longer, before shifting his gaze toward Tessa. “You’ll be okay?” he asked.
She gave him a small smile. “Yeah. I’ll be fine,” she said. It looked like the truth.
Rhys nodded. “I’ll be just down the hall if you need me.”
Charlie threw her hands up in the air. “Oh, go already,” she said. “Don’t you see we have stuff to do?”
“Stuff?” he asked.
“Yeah, girly stuff,” Charlie said in a mocking voice. “Like washing the blood out of her hair and putting on clothes that fit.”
***
“I thought he was never going to leave,” Charlie said the moment the bedroom door closed behind Rhys. “Don’t get me wrong. I know he means well, but sometimes that intensity level, it can be a little much.”
“Does he mean well?” Tessa wasn’t sure why she even bothered asking. Charlie already admitted to being both his friend and his co-worker. There was no way she wasn’t going to paint anything other than a glowing picture of the man.
Rhys Page 4