Ghost of a Chance

by Cynthia Eden

  He nodded. “We did.”

  “And was he the one at the hospital? Dr. Goddard thought it was him but—”

  “There is no way that Frederick Waller attacked you at the hospital tonight.” He held a manila file in his hand. One he’d just been holding like it was something precious.

  “Oh.” Tess sagged against her chair. “He has an alibi then?”

  “You could say that.” Detective Cade put the manila file in the middle of the table. “He’s dead.”

  “What?” Tess leaned forward.

  The detective flipped open the file. “He was killed last night. Didn’t even realize he was in the morgue, not until I went looking for the bastard.”

  James glanced at the photo. Hell.

  “As you can see, his throat was cut. From ear to ear. A brutal attack. He bled out in the alley.”

  James grabbed the file and slammed it closed. “She didn’t need to see that.”

  The detective blinked. “She’s a doctor. I assume she is used to seeing all manner of gore.”

  “I am,” Tess agreed softly.

  “Screw that. She doesn’t have to see a murder.” That was exactly what they’d seen. And what he’d seen…dammit, Frederick had been in the same alley—the same place where James had confronted the man. He’d recognized the dumpster behind Frederick’s sprawled form. The dumpster had been tagged with bright red spray paint that was very distinct.

  “Could’ve been a drug deal gone wrong,” the detective murmured. “That’s certainly the theory from narcotics. But, in light of everything that seems to be happening with you right now, Dr. Barrett, I find the timing suspicious.”

  It was suspicious as hell.

  James rose. “I’m taking her home.”

  Detective Cade’s gaze swung to him. “Who are you?”

  What? “You know my name already. James Smith. You know—”

  “I know that Dr. Goddard told me you were dangerous. He told me that you attacked Frederick Waller and that you had to be pulled off the man in the hospital.”

  “Yeah, I did.” James gave him a cold smile. “So you’ll probably find my DNA on the guy’s body.” Thanks for giving me that out, detective. “I fought him at the hospital when he tried to choke Tess. Those are his fingerprints on her throat.”

  “And it pissed you off when he hurt her.”

  Seriously? “Pissed doesn’t begin to describe how I felt.”

  Tess’s chair scraped over the floor as she stood. “James—”

  The detective didn’t look away from James. “You attacked him, you had to be pulled off him, and Dr. Goddard said you were furious.”

  James knew where this was going.

  “Now the man who hurt Dr. Barrett is dead.” Detective Cade rose to his feet. Nodded. “You understand, of course, why I insisted that you come to the station. I wanted to speak with you both.”

  James understood, all right. The detective had wanted to see how James reacted to learning Frederick was dead. He’d wanted—

  “Enough.” Tess slammed her hands down on the table.

  The detective’s eyes widened.

  “Don’t attack James.” She huffed out a breath. “He saved me when Frederick was choking me in the hospital. Don’t throw around accusations at him because he didn’t do anything wrong. He’s been protecting me, nothing else.” A crisp nod. “Let’s get out of here, James. I want to go home.”

  He took her hand in his. Hated that her fingers shook. “Okay, sweetheart.” They headed for the door. Were almost at it when—

  “One more thing,” Detective Cade called out. “By any chance, have you recently been to Frederick Waller’s apartment, Mr. Smith?”

  Fucking hell.

  James glanced over his shoulder.

  “Because a witness reported seeing a man who matches your description in the area. So I couldn’t help but wonder…seeing as how you were so pissed—I mean, furious—at Frederick. Perhaps you went to pay him a little visit?”

  Had he been seen? James didn’t let his expression alter. In the past, no one had ever caught sight of him on a job, not unless he’d wanted to be seen. He’d been cold, calculating, and completely controlled. In the past—

  Tess wasn’t in my past. She was in his present, and everything was different because of her.

  Cold, calculating, and controlled—no, he didn’t feel any of those things. He was burning hot. Rage pulsed through him, and as far as his control was concerned, it had splintered the minute Frederick put his hands on Tess.

  “Mr. Smith?” Detective Cade took a step toward him. Frowned a little. “That name of yours, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear it was a bad alias. Might as well call yourself John Doe. Pretty much the same as James Smith, isn’t it?”

  James sent him a tight smile. “If you have additional questions for me, those questions should go through my attorney.”

  “There will be more. Count on it.”

  James turned his head. Found Tess staring at him. Her eyes were so deep and dark. He hated the shadows that slipped under them. As she stared at him, he saw the flicker of uncertainty in her gaze.

  She was worried that he’d gone to pay a visit to Frederick.

  She was worried…that he’d killed the man?

  He tightened his hold on her. Got her out of there. They didn’t speak as they exited the station. His driver scrambled to open the limo’s back door. Tess slid inside.

  James hesitated by the open door. He glanced to the left. To the right.

  He’d been off his game before. He’d thought he was dealing with some amateur, but that wasn’t the case. Frederick Waller was dead, and someone had pointed the cops at James. A witness? Really?

  Had he lost his edge that much?

  James saw the dark SUV down the road. Waiting.

  James gave an almost imperceptible nod toward the vehicle. He knew the Wilde agents were inside. Dodging his steps. He should have been angry at them. Hadn’t he told the crew to back the hell off?

  But maybe he needed them. So he gave them the nod and knew they’d get his message. They’d come in for a chat.

  The team could help him on this one. Maybe it was time to stop being a lone wolf. Maybe.

  He climbed into the limo.

  The door slammed behind him.

  Tess still didn’t speak. Not until Ryley had the limo on the road. Not until they were away from the police station. Then, voice trembling, she asked him, “Did you kill Frederick Waller?”

  Chapter Eleven

  She’d insisted on going back to her home. Chill bumps covered Tess’s skin, and she couldn’t seem to shake the cold that clung to her. In her mind, she kept seeing the dead man. His throat had been sliced open from ear to ear.

  James had just sat there, no expression on his face while the cop accused him of—

  An alarm was beeping.

  Tess stopped, blinked. They’d just entered her place, and the new alarm system was beeping. James headed straight to the control panel and reset it. He told her the code, and she blinked again, feeling dazed.

  Then she glanced around her place. When she’d last been there, her home had been utter destruction. But now…

  Everything was back in place.

  The furniture—it was perfect. It was her furniture. The same white, oversize couch. The same brand and size TV. Her broken photo frames had been replaced with new ones—ones that looked exactly as they had before. Everything was in the position she’d placed it in before the intruder destroyed her house.

  James had repaired everything for her. Her hand pressed to her chest. “Thank you for doing this, but I told you, I was going to pay for the furniture myself.” Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears. “Give me the bill.” She tore her gaze from the couch. Her couch? Tess locked her stare on him. “For the furniture and the security and—”

  “No.”

  Her brows shot up. “I pay my own way. Always. I’m not the girl who had nothing any longer. I can pay
for anything I need.”

  “I know you can. I know you can do any damn thing in this world.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t saying no on the repayment. Though I really don’t want it. I want you to think of this furniture as a gift. I wanted to do something good for you. You deserve something good.” He lowered his hand. “When I said no, I was answering your question from the car.”

  Her chin jerked up. The car.

  When they’d left the station and her gut had been twisting in knots, she’d asked him one thing. Did you kill Frederick Waller?

  He hadn’t answered her. He’d just sat in silence.

  She’d lowered the privacy screen and asked the driver to take her home. Her address. Her place.

  When they’d arrived, James had followed her up. He’d shadowed her steps, and she’d seen him searching the area for any would-be threats. Now he was inside with her and saying that he hadn’t killed Frederick.

  Relief surged through her. Right, right, of course, he hadn’t killed Frederick. “He was wrong.” Her breath shuddered out. She smiled. “The detective was wrong. The witness was wrong. You were not anywhere near—”

  “I went to his apartment.”

  Her arms moved to wrap around her stomach.

  “I went inside his apartment.”

  “He let you in?” she croaked.

  “No, sweetheart. I let myself in.”

  He’d just confessed to breaking and entering. She hugged herself even tighter.

  “He wasn’t there. But I did a quick survey of the area. Waited because I wanted to talk to the bastard.”

  “Why?”

  His head cocked to the left. “Because the sonofabitch put his hands on your throat and tried to kill you. Because I wanted to be very, very clear with him. If he ever went near you again, he was a dead man.”

  He is a dead man.

  “I found him in an alley.”

  Oh, God. In the picture that Detective Cade had shown her, hadn’t Frederick been in an alley?

  “He was trying to make another drug deal. The dealer ran off, though, didn’t give Frederick anything, and when he was alone, that’s when I had my little chat with the bastard.”

  She couldn’t move. Her legs had turned to stone. “You didn’t kill him.”

  “No, baby, I didn’t.” His eyes didn’t leave her face. “I made my intentions clear. When I left that alley, Frederick was still breathing.”

  “You threatened him.”

  “Yes. I wanted him to get my message and to keep his ass away from you.”

  He’d definitely be away from her now.

  “You think I don’t see it?” His voice was low. Rough.

  “See what?”

  “You’re terrified of me right now. You look at me, and you see a monster.”

  “I don’t know what I see.” That was a lie. She saw him. James. But… “Is that an alias?”

  He blinked.

  “Your name. Is it really James Smith?”

  “My first name is James, yes. When I was growing up, most people called me Jimmy or Jamie. So I’ve gone by lots of different versions of that name.”

  He hadn’t said if Smith was really his last name. “There is so much I don’t know about you.”

  He nodded. “And a whole lot that you do.” James glanced at his watch. “They’ll be here soon, so we don’t have long left to talk without them hearing us.”

  Her heart jerked. “Who will be here?”

  “The security team who will be watching you while I hunt the perp out there.”

  She shook her head. “What? I don’t have a security team.”

  “You do now. A man is dead. Some asshole is trying to pin his murder on me. This mess has gone lethal, and I can’t risk your safety.”

  He couldn’t risk it? Heat finally began to build inside of her, pushing past the ice that had numbed her ever since she’d seen the photo inside the manila file at the police station.

  “I thought this was about you, Tess. That someone from your past had caught up with you. That maybe that bastard who’d drugged you so long ago had resurfaced and was coming for his pound of flesh. I’ve had Barnes looking for him, just as a precaution, digging into the case ever since—” He stopped.

  But it was too late. Far too late. She stopped hugging herself. Her hands fell to her sides and fisted. Tess stalked forward. “You knew my secrets.” It was there. She could see it in his eyes. “Even before I told you about my past, you knew.”

  “The security team will be here soon. We need to go over—”

  “Screw them,” she said flatly. Everything was out of control and crazy. “You knew, didn’t you? Even before I told you one word about my life on the streets, you knew.” Why did that hurt? Why did that make the fire inside of her burn even hotter?

  She waited for a denial. There was a big, big part of her hoping for—

  “I knew.”

  Her lips parted.

  “I knew right after we met. I had my assistant dig up your past even before you came back to find me at the club. But I didn’t know that someone had drugged you. I didn’t know that you’d been attacked, not until you told me about that mystery bastard. That’s when I directed my attention to—”

  No. No. “Why?”

  His brows flew down. “Why did I want to find him? Because I don’t want him to ever—”

  “Why did you dig into my past when we were just strangers?” He’d better answer her. She wanted the truth, and she wasn’t budging until she got it.

  He swallowed. “Because I have a line of enemies that stretch from here to the end of the world. Because I can’t trust anyone. Because I looked at you, and I forgot to breathe. Because the way I wanted you so suddenly and completely was dangerous, and before I got lost in you, I needed to know you were safe.”

  “You thought I was some kind of threat to you?”

  His hand lifted. He cupped her cheek. “I took one look at you, and I couldn’t see anyone else. If you were the enemy, if you were bait, then I was screwed.”

  She backed away from his touch. “You lied to me.”

  “No, I told you from the beginning exactly what I—”

  “Stop! You know what I’m talking about. You let me believe that you didn’t know about my life. About my past.” The fire inside grew hotter with every word. “If you knew, then why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say something? You let me pour my heart out to you when all along, you had already dug into every little dirty secret I had.”

  “Because if you told me on your own, it meant you trusted me!”

  Maybe…maybe she had trusted him. “I was wrong.”

  His jaw hardened.

  “I was insane.” Pain—that was all she felt in that instance. “You broke into Frederick’s apartment. You threatened him. Who are you? I don’t even know your real name!”

  “I told you, James is my real—”

  “You knew everything about me! I knew nothing about you!”

  “You know more than most of the world.”

  “It’s not enough. You know every secret I have. If you want me to stay with you, if you want us, then you tell me everything.” She was done with pain. Done with secrets. They were going to be together? Then they’d be equals.

  A sharp rap sounded at the door.

  She jumped.

  He didn’t move.

  “Who the hell is that?” Tess muttered.

  “Your security team.”

  “I didn’t ask for a security—”

  “I was an assassin for the government. I killed and I lied, and was very, very good at both jobs."

  She sucked in a sharp breath. He was giving her…everything?

  “I made enemies, and I burned bridges, and I didn’t look back. There was no reason to look back. You want to know about my past? Fine. That’s only fair. When the Wilde agents are gone, you can ask me as many questions as you want, and I will tell you everything. Because I choose you, Tess. I want to be with
you, and I’ll agree to any terms that you set.”

  Her heart raced faster and faster.

  “Let’s start with one of the worst times in my life. I can give you that before Wilde pushes in here. When I was a teen, I thought I was in love. Beautiful girl. Beautiful dreams. Only her dad was one of the bad guys. One of the most evil assholes in the world. I thought I could get her away from him. I thought we could be safe. Stupid fucking kid, that’s what I was.”

  The rapping came again.

  “Her dad found out about us. He and his men beat the shit out of me. He was going to kill me, but she risked her life to save me. The bastard threw me to the wolves after that. He put a price on my head—hell, I guess he thought if he didn’t actually pull the trigger, his daughter would never know that he was responsible for my death. So he got every criminal in the area to hunt me down. A teen who was lost and scared as fuck. They kept coming after me. And you know what? I learned to survive. I learned to kill before I was killed. My skills caught the attention of good old Uncle Sam. I was taking out his trash, you see. So the government decided to use me.”

  Tess stared into his eyes. Saw the pain swirling there. Talking about his past hurt him just as much as talking about her past had hurt her. But he was doing it, for her. Just as she’d shared, for him.

  “I was no one. US agents took me in, trained me, gave me a new life—dozens of new lives—and I did my job. I had nothing else. I didn’t want anything else. There were no dreams for me. No freaking happy ending fantasies. I didn’t care about that shit. I didn’t care about anything. Not really. Not until I turned around in my club, and I saw you staring at me.”

  He could not be saying—

  The rapping came again.

  He sucked in a breath. “Everything changed. You changed it.” Then he spun around. He tapped something new in the alarm code, checked through her peephole, and swung open the door.

  Two men and a woman were in the doorway. She recognized them instantly. There was Cole, Blair, and—

  “I need another freaking minute!” James blasted. He slammed the door shut and whirled back toward her.

  Her mouth was still hanging open.

  “Where the hell was I?” He scraped a hand over the thick stubble that lined his hard jaw.