by Brandi Evans
Cold and fear mingled in her chest like a virus. Giant waves crested and broke around her—emphasis on around—but they didn't reach her. They weren't drowning her. They usually tried, but for the first time in forever, she was standing on solid ground.
Kat looked down at her feet, amazed to see her toes flexing in the sand. She was on dry land? As she grinned, she gave the ground some test jumps. Yup, solid, dry ground where the storm couldn't reach her. She stretched her arms wide and spun in a slow circle—that's when she saw him.
Maddox.
He hefted a pack from a rowboat and then sauntered toward her. His dark slacks were dry, and he'd rolled the long sleeves of his shirt to mid-forearm. As always, the top button was open even though he wore a tie, and his dark blond locks were just on the verge of needing a cut. With his sidearm hooked to his belt at his right hip, he looked like a cop—her cop.
She ran to him, and they met under the arms of a palm tree, its fronds dancing in the wind. Somehow, she made herself stop short of grabbing hold of him and never letting go. You're just the job to him, she reminded herself for the millionth time, and while he took his career seriously, she was still the job to him. She had to remember that.
Her arms got the memo and stayed at her side, but her lips didn't. She smiled so hugely that she felt as if she'd gotten a coat hanger stuck in her mouth. "You came for me."
"I told you I always would, Kat."
Somehow, her smile defied the laws of physics and grew larger. She liked it when he called her Kat. He hadn't always. He'd started out calling her Katlyn, but then one day, she'd noticed it had changed. Even Detective Burkes—Carter—called her Katlyn.
It doesn't mean anything, she reminded herself. You're just the job to him.
"I wish I'd have found you sooner." He drew an index finger along her jaw. "I'm sorry I let him take you. I failed you."
"You didn't," she insisted.
"But I did. I let him get his fucking hands on you again. Please forgive me for that."
"I do." Forgetting her mantra, she cupped his face between her hands. "There's nothing to forgive."
"Kat…" His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he leaned in.
She leaned in, too, but before their lips met, a taunting voice forced them apart.
"You stupid fucking bitch. Do you think you're free of me? You're not! I'll get my hands on you again. It's only a matter of time."
Even as her terror spiked, Maddox dropped his pack, spun her behind him—using his body as a shield—and drew his sidearm. He pointed the weapon directly at Jeff, where he sat perched in the palm tree above them. His usually neat ginger beard had grown disheveled in the month since he'd taken her. His hair, too.
"Like hell you will." Maddox's voice was as steady as the weapon in his hand. "You'll have to get past me to get to her."
"Oh, I plan on it…" Jeff laughed, the sound maniacal, growing in intensity and insanity.
The waves turned to towering tsunamis, and this time, the water and the fear did reach her. And the waves did try to drown her.
Katlyn shot straight up in the darkness. The aroma of antiseptic and death hit her nose like a physical punch. She was blind, and something was closing around her torso.
Panic and survival mode kicked in, and she lashed out, trying to get her bearings while also trying to flee. Her arms weren't bound at the wrist anymore, but whatever was wrapping her torso kept tightening, kept securing her in place.
"No!" she cried out. "Don't! Let me go!" The words shot from her mouth, terror making them sharp and lethal, the antithesis of the words that answered.
"Shh, Kat. It's okay. You're safe. I've got you. You're safe. You're safe."
Reality came rushing back. "Maddox!" Unlike in her dream, she banded her arms around him and held on with a grip so fierce that she didn't think anything could break it.
"Yes, it's me, Kat. You're okay. You're safe."
Yes, in his arms, she was most certainly safe. She burrowed into him, into his strong arms. If she could, she'd crawl inside him where absolutely nothing would ever be able to hurt her again.
A clap of thunder made her jump, the memory of the storm in her dream too vivid and fresh. She swore she could even feel the spray of the waves on her skin and hear the torment of Jeff's maniacal laughter. Shivering, she turned her face into the crook of Maddox's neck, and for a long while, neither spoke. She simply let the steady beating of his heart calm her raging one.
When the worst of the trembling passed, she lifted her head and looked at him through the darkness. Shadows shrouded his handsome face so that she couldn't make out any specific features. She could only see his profile, which was for the best. Their faces were so close, as was the memory of their near kiss in the dream.
She'd missed him terribly during her forced imprisonment. Memories of him and of the stolen moments they'd shared since their first meeting in the restaurant had been her favorite places to "escape" when she'd been at her lowest. Only when she'd "escaped" to her memories, memories often turned to fantasies of what she'd wished had happened. She'd only dreamed the lips so close to hers right now had ever touched hers. Only imagined the arms around her were there because of desire and not comfort. So yeah, the darkness was better.
"Where am I?" she asked.
"Cabinet Peaks Medical Center in Libby, Montana."
"Montana?" So that was where Jeff had taken her. She'd always been unconscious when they'd traveled and then held in windowless rooms.
"We found you near this little town called Troy. Or more precisely, you found us."
"I found y'all?" Everything was so fuzzy.
"About ran us off the road, too."
"I did?"
He chuckled as he told her of how she'd come around a bend in the road in both lanes. As he spoke, he pulled back just enough to hit a button that filled the room with a soft glow that cut away the bulk of the darkness, and she stopped breathing.
God, his eyes.
She'd missed his eyes, missed the kindness and warmth that always played in the gray-blue hues. She hadn't known or seen such kindness since the day he and Carter had put her into the hands of Warriors for Women. She hadn't wanted to go with the group. She'd wanted to stay with Maddox, but he'd said going had been for the best.
You're just the job to him. And yet, he looked so much more haggard than when she'd seen him last. Beyond exhausted. His messy hair was always on the verge of needing a cut, but now, it did need a trim. The ends were curling around his ear and at the nape of his neck. And she noted more lines around his eyes.
She wanted to hug him, to hold him, to offer him the same comfort he always so readily gave, and she might have had he not spoken first.
"How are you? I haven't gotten to ask since I got you back."
Even as he asked, he looked terrified of her answer. She wanted to lie, to tell him she was perfect, but he'd heard her nightmare, witnessed the effect Jeff still held over her. He'd know better, so she did the only thing she could: told the bitter truth.
"The nightmares aren't new. I, uh, have them most nights, but this one wasn't so bad. You were there."
"I was there?" The fingers of his right hand flexed as if he wanted to touch her the way he had in her dream.
"We were on this island, and a storm was raging around us. Usually, the storm is battering me, but this time, I was safe because you were there. But then, Jeff was suddenly there, too. He taunted me, said he'd get me back, and—"
"No." He rested his forehead against hers and trapped her cheeks between his hands. "Never again, Kat. I will not let that asshole get his hands on you again. I swear it."
You're just the job to him.
But god, it was hard to make herself believe that when he touched her like this.
"I always knew you were coming for me," she said after a while. "It's what gave me the strength to keep fighting."
"I'll always come for you, Kat. Always." His voice dropped to a resolute murmur, and she believed him. No matter what
, he would always come for her. He wasn't built any other way.
Closing her eyes, she absorbed his kindness and his strength like she might the rays of the sun on a hot summer's day. Right now, she wouldn't let it matter that what she felt for him was different than what he felt for her. Tomorrow would come soon enough, and uncertainty would be there. So, for now, she'd let herself feel, safe and protected in his arms. That would be enough for tonight.
The fog of sleep lifted, leaving Katlyn dizzy and disoriented. Her eyelids fluttered open, and the sight of Maddox and Carter greeted her. Maddox slept in a chair at the door, his legs out and crossed at the ankles, feet in front of the door. He was her personal alarm system; if anyone opened that door, he'd know it instantly. Even in his sleep, he protected her. His thoughtfulness made her smile.
Carter, sitting in a chair beside her bed, was turned to face her. He was on his phone—well, technically, he was looking at his phone—a ridiculous grin on his face. He looked… different than when she'd seen him last. Where Maddox looked haggard, Carter looked happy. It was the look of a man very newly, very desperately in love.
"What's her name?" she asked softly, hoping not to wake Maddox. He'd remained at her side after her nightmare, so he likely hadn't gotten much sleep.
Carter glanced up from his phone, confusion and concern sliding into place like a mask. "Excuse me?"
"What's her name?" she asked again. "The one who put that smile on your face."
Said smile made an immediate comeback. "What? Do I have Man in Love tattooed on my forehead or something?"
"Close enough. When you were looking at your phone, you were smiling like a loon. You didn't look like that the last time I saw you." She checked the side panel of the bed and pushed the button that raised the head of her bed. "I also gathered that, by the intensity of said smile, this is still new."
Shaking his head, he chuckled. "Which one of us is the detective again?"
He held his phone out to her. On the screen, a woman with hair as black as tar—save for streaks of purple running throughout—sat on the deck of a boat, a little black and white dog licking her laughing face. This wasn't a professional picture, but one caught in some happy moment, a day of fun and frolic on the water.
"Her name's Genny," he said, "and we got together right about the time you…" He trailed off, seemed to rethink his sentence. "About the time you went to Oregon, so you're not wrong. Things are still new with us."
"Is it serious?"
He shrugged. "It's too soon to tell."
Maddox snorted out a laugh, and her gaze shot to him,
"He's head-over-heels in love," Maddox said as he unfolded his lanky frame from the chair and started toward them. "They're already living together, too, so things are about seventeen degrees past serious. I expect he'd have already proposed if he wasn't so damn terrified of scaring her off."
Carter opened his mouth as if to sound some sort of retort, but then he turned back to her and shrugged. "He's right. I'm an absolute goner."
She shifted her gaze back to Maddox. She knew how that felt.
"She's good for him," Maddox added. "Even more importantly, I like her. I'd say she was the sister I never had, but I have a sister. They're absolutely nothing alike, but god, I love them both."
The corners of her lips pulled upward. Talking to someone again felt terrific. Just talking. She hadn't spoken to anyone since Jeff had taken her. They didn't speak. He'd yell and berate her, and she'd cry and beg him to stop hitting her.
Maddox stepped to the opposite side of the bed as his partner. For the briefest of moments, she'd thought—and hoped—he'd take her hand, but he only crossed his arms and looked gently down at her.
"How're you feeling this morning, Kat?" Maddox asked.
"Physically or emotionally?"
"Yes."
She looked to Carter and then back to Maddox. "Physically, I'm sore but not too sore. Of course, I probably have the pain meds to thank for that, and for what I feel like is the first time in weeks, I'm not cold. Jeff kept me chained—"
A dark memory flashed, of being bound naked to that bed as Jeff lumbered drunkenly toward her—
No.
She closed her eyes and shook her head, hoping to stave off the memory and the onslaught of emotions that would follow like an avalanche down the side of a mountain. Jeff was gone. He wasn't here. He couldn't hurt her anymore, but even as the words formed, so did his taunting laughter. Panic squeezed her lungs, and just as she felt herself tipping off the ledge, Maddox placed a hand on her forearm, connecting them.
"You don't have to talk about this until you're ready, Kat."
She covered Maddox's hand and held tight. She didn't have to, but she needed to. This was like debriding a wound. Cleaning and disinfecting the area hurt initially, but if she skipped this step, an infection could set in. And she didn't want an emotional infection. At least, she didn't want the one she had to worsen.
She drew in a deep breath and then, keeping a tight hold on Maddox, let it out. "Jeff kept me chained to a mattress, to the floor, or to whatever was handy. He always kept me naked, too. He used to do that before, for short periods. It was one of his many forms of torture, although he called it punishment. He'd never kept me that way so long before. He'd said the punishment needed to fit the crime, and that I'd screwed up severely for leaving him."
As she spoke, the pressure of Maddox's fingers against her arm increased, a slow, continual build-up, but when she'd said the last part, his fingertips had bit into her. The pain had been momentary, but it stung. She knew he hadn't been trying to hurt her. He cared too deeply for people; it was something she'd sensed from him early on and was one of the myriad of things she liked about him.
"You did nothing wrong," Carter said softly. "I hope you know that. You have every right to live a life that doesn't involve being someone's punching bag."
She nodded, turning to him. "I do but thank you for saying it. I could probably stand to hear that eighty times a day." A little positive reinforcement to combat a decade of mental abuse.
"You deserve to be happy, Kat." Although the words echoed his partner's, when Maddox said them, they made her heart quiver. She was surprised the bedside monitor didn't betray her.
She backhanded away the tear that slipped free. "It wasn't always so terrible between Jeff and me. It really wasn't. I mean, looking back, there were signs, but there was also… I wouldn't quite call it kindness or affection but close enough that I registered it as such. After he took me in Oregon, though, it was violence and fear all the time. I think I might have gone mad if I didn't know you two were looking for me."
"What do you mean?" Carter asked.
"Yeah," said Maddox. "You mentioned something about that earlier, but I wasn't sure what you meant."
"I don't know how or from who, but Jeff always got word when you were close. You've almost found me three times before. At least, that's how many times he's moved me. He tried to move me yesterday; it's what allowed me to escape."
"How so?" asked Carter.
"I don't know," she answered. "I only ever knew we were moving just before it happened, just before he drugged and knocked me out. Then, when I'd come to, I'd be chained up somewhere new."
Carter and Maddox exchanged a look, and even though they spoke no words, she imagined a thousand passed between them.
"What?" she questioned.
"Carter thinks Harris has a mole feeding him inside information. The idea would certainly explain how he'd found you in Oregon in the first—"
Maddox's voice snapped off, and he gaped at his partner.
Carter nodded. "Yeah, it's that bad."
"Holy shit?"
"Of course," Carter went on, "we'll need to investigate more thoroughly to know anything for sure, but this certainly explains a lot."
"Investigate what?" Katlyn's heart rate climbed, the bedside monitor showing just how much. "Explains what? You guys are scaring me!"
Maddox lowered the
rail, sat on the edge of the bed, and took her hand between both of his. Dread plummeted into her gut like a cinderblock into water.
"If Harris hacked in or has someone feeding him information, it has to be outside the Dallas PD because we didn't know where you'd been taken once Warriors for Women took you under their protection."
"And that was by design, to protect you," Carter continued. "Only a few key people knew your location, and we're gonna need to speak to each and every one of—"
A knock sounded against the door; whoever was on the other side didn't wait for an invitation. The door pushed open, and in an organized move, Maddox and Carter assumed a protective stance between her and the door, much in the same way Maddox had in her nightmare. Neither man reached for his weapon, but their hands had the same open grip, their arms had the same bend at the elbow. They could, she was sure, have their guns out in less than a nanosecond if needed.
A middle-aged man in a rumpled burgundy suit jacket stepped into the room, followed by a woman in a sleek black pantsuit. The man looked crumpled next to her. Her black hair was flat iron straight, bangs covering her forehead. She wore a badge clipped to the bottom of her jacket; he wore one clipped to his jacket pocket.
"Mrs. Katlyn Harris?" the male new arrival asked, his expression showing disinterest, as if he'd rather be anywhere but there.
Katlyn grabbed the back of Maddox's shirt and held on.
"Depends on who's asking," Maddox answered for her, hand remaining ready to grab his weapon.
"Special Agent Logan," the man said, "and this is my partner, Special Agent Andrei. We're with the FBI."
"Is that supposed to impress me, Special Agent?" asked Maddox.
Special Agent Logan eyed Maddox. Katlyn doubted the agent could have looked down his nose at Maddox more if he'd climbed onto a ladder.
"Aren't you a bit outside your jurisdiction, Detectives?" Logan asked.
Logan had called them detectives, not officers. Did they know each other?
Carter crossed his arms. "Since when do we need to play jurisdictional games when assisting a wreck victim? Besides, at least we were looking for Ms. Harris and not just sitting around with our thumbs up our asses, unlike some people."