Текст книги "Shattered"

Автор книги: Cynthia Eden

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

“My dad said he did it for me. To protect me.” She shook her head. Jax’s hold tightened on her. “I never wanted that. I never wanted him to kill anyone. Not for me.”

“I know.”

Did he? She’d seen suspicion on so many faces.

“He’d trained me to kill, for years, and I didn’t realize it. I was thirteen and he was showing me people in malls . . . people who weren’t paying attention to what was happening around them. People who would make easy marks. I didn’t know he meant people who could be his victims!”

“What did you do?”

Sarah pulled back to stare up at him.

“When did you cut your wrist, Sarah?”

She blinked. “That night. On my birthday. I—I canceled my party. Told my friends that I was sick. And when I was alone . . . when he left to get rid of the body . . . I sliced my wrist.”

“Christ.” His hold was almost painful then.

“I was bleeding out on the floor. I thought I was dead, and then he came back.” She’d never told anyone this part. Not the shrink she’d seen, not the cops. “He was crying when he found me. My dad told me that he couldn’t live without me . . . that he needed me to keep going.” He’d wrapped up her hand. He’d rushed her to the hospital. Then he’d fed the nurses a lie about her being despondent because her boyfriend had broken up with her.

The boyfriend? Ryan Klein. A guy who’d seemingly deserted everyone and left town.

“He watched me after that, so carefully. He would stare at me as if he couldn’t figure me out. I think he expected me to be just like him. I wasn’t though, so he kept trying to turn me into a hunter, just like he was.”

“Sarah, you don’t have to tell me this.”

Maybe he didn’t want to hear it. She pulled away, her body curving a bit as her shoulders hunched.

“Stop.”

She looked up at him.

“You’re hurting when you talk about him. Do you think I can’t tell?” His jaw was clenched so tightly as he gritted out those words. “I wish I could take all of this pain away for you. I wish I could have stopped him.”

“I did.” Her chin lifted. “I’m the one . . . I finally stopped him.” The night was burned in her mind. “He’d taken a woman from the city—a lady who worked at the bakery. I’d seen her dozens of times, and he had his knife to her throat. He was telling me that I had to watch. That I had to see what she’d do . . . what she’d say. That in the end, they all confessed and they all begged . . .”

She wanted to stop the words, but now that she’d started talking, it seemed like a dam had burst and she couldn’t hold them back.

“I found a gun in my dad’s closet. He liked to use his knives when he was . . . working . . . on the victims. Said it was more personal.” In college, she’d learned that others thought just as her father did. A knife was intimate. You got close to your victim with the knife. It sliced into the skin, cutting deep into flesh. Carving—one life, taken. “But he had the gun . . . just in case. Just in case some burglar ever broke in, so we’d be safe.”

She stopped a minute, lost by the insanity of that. Her dad had kept a gun because he wanted to keep them safe from burglars. Who would keep us safe from you, Dad?

“I took that gun. When he was down in that basement, making her scream, I took the gun.”

She could see that scene so clearly in her mind. She’d gripped the gun in her hand. Her palm had been slick with sweat. She’d inched down the stairs, one at a time. The wood had creaked beneath her feet, but her father hadn’t heard her approach. The screams had been too loud.

She’d reached the bottom. Crept right up behind him. Daddy, stop.

“He thought I’d come to watch. To help. But I put the gun to his head. He laughed at first and said it wasn’t even loaded.” Every breath felt painful. “But I’d found the bullets. I told him that if he didn’t let her go, I’d shoot him.”

Jax was staring into her eyes.

“I meant it.”

“I know.” His voice was soft, gentle. There was no horror in his eyes, no pity. Just a blue stare that held her own.

“She ran out . . . I knew that she’d call the cops and I didn’t move. I kept that gun to my father’s head. If he’d tried to attack me, I would have pulled the trigger.” Goose bumps had risen on her arms as she told him the story. “When the cops finally arrived and they took him away, do you know what he said to me?”

Jax shook his head.

Right, of course, he didn’t know. Stupid question. No one knew . . . no one but her and the cop who’d been holding her father. “He said he was proud of me. That I had his killer instinct, just like he’d always wanted.”

There it was. Her shame. Her horror.

Her life.

And now he knew everything.

Chapter 11

DETECTIVE WEST?”

Brent tensed when he heard his name and he turned away from the window. Not that he’d had much of a view—the hospital’s waiting room window overlooked the place’s parking garage.

A young nurse, one with short, curly brown hair and dark eyes, waited a few feet away.

“The doctor wanted me to tell you that Ms. Guthrie has stabilized some. She may even be able to answer a few brief questions. Very brief,” she emphasized.

Relief had him rushing across the room. “Can I see her now?”

He was aware of Gabe Spencer rising behind him. Gabe and the blond looker had been in that waiting room for most of the night. He’d heard Gabe on his phone, calling in favors left and right—and Brent knew just how important that kind of power was. When a guy could get the Feds to jump and do your bidding, then that was a man with some serious pull.

He’s a man that I want on my side.

“Now,” the nurse agreed, with a nod, “but only for a few moments. And she can’t be stressed. Her body has been through a terrible trauma.”

Her body and her mind. And when the poor girl found out that her only remaining family member was dead, the pain would be even worse for her.

Brent turned toward Gabe. “You want in?”

“Hell, yes.” Gabe pressed a quick kiss to the blonde’s cheek. “Let the others know,” he said to her.

She nodded, and Gabe hurried toward Brent.

Brent had done his research on the other man. He knew just what had happened to Gabe’s sister, and it was some seriously messed-up shit. On paper, the guy was a tough-as-nails ex-SEAL. And in person, well, the man knew how to get the job done.

“This is my show,” Brent warned him before they entered Molly’s room. “I ask the questions because this is the NOPD’s case.”

Gabe lifted a brow. “A case we’ve sure as hell assisted on.”

“And that’s why you’re here now.” But he didn’t want the guy stepping on his toes when he went inside that little room.

“Lead the way,” Gabe murmured.

Squaring his shoulders, Brent entered the room. When he saw Molly Guthrie, he felt a fist punch into his chest. The woman looked so delicate, so damn breakable, as she lay against the stark white sheets. She had bruises on her face and arms. Her lip was busted. But that was nothing . . . nothing compared to all the bandages that covered her. The perp had sliced her, again and again.

“He tried to break her,” Gabe said, his low voice carrying only to Brent. “But it didn’t work. She made it out. She got away from him.”

The machines around Molly were beeping in a steady chorus of sound. A doctor stood to the left of her bed. He was checking her chart and when Brent approached, the guy tensed.

“The patient shouldn’t be stressed right now,” the doctor began. “I need you to know—”

Brent lifted his hand. “Right, I got the spiel from the nurse.” A nurse who’d followed him in. “Doc, the last thing I want to do is hurt this lady, I promise you that. I want to find the man who did this to her, and I want to throw him in jail for the rest of his life.” So he can’t ever hurt anyone else like this again.

He touched Molly’s hand. She flinched and her eyes opened. Fear was in her stare. Such deep, consuming fear.

“Easy, Molly,” the doctor said. “You don’t need to be afraid. This gentleman is a police officer. He wants to help you.”

The fear didn’t ease in her eyes. If anything, it got worse.

“Hi, Molly,” Brent said, working to keep his voice gentle. A tough job because he knew that, most days, his voice sounded like a growling bear. “I just need to ask you a few questions, okay?”

She stared back at him. Such big, beautiful eyes. Eyes that showed her terror.

He tried to smile for her. She seemed to relax a little. That was good.

“Where’s my . . . my br-brother?” Her voice was a soft rasp of sound.

Brent tensed at her question. The last thing he wanted to do was tell her that her brother was dead. When she found out, he knew she’d shut down. A guy didn’t have to be a shrink to figure that out.

“Can you tell me about the man who took you?” Brent asked her. “Molly, did you see his face?”

She gave a slow nod.

“Describe him . . . please.”

“B-Big . . . like you. Wide sh-shoulders. Tall.” Her brow crinkled. “He h-had . . . bl-blond hair . . .”

“Caucasian?”

She nodded.

“What color were his eyes, Molly?” He kept saying her name. He’d been told that was a tactic to create intimacy with a witness. He didn’t know if the technique was working or not, but he was more than willing to try anything right then.

“Bl-Blue . . .”

“Was there anything about the man that stuck out for you, Molly? Any scars or marks on his face?”

Slowly, she shook her head.

“Molly—”

“I want . . . my brother. H-He said . . . the man said that Eddie had . . . had sent him to get me. To pick me up.” A fat tear drop rolled down her cheek. “I—I went with him . . . he knew about Mom . . .”

The machines were beeping louder now, and the doc was frowning at him. Brent figured this counted as getting the patient agitated.

Molly tried to sit up, but she winced, and he saw the flash of pain on her face.

“No, Molly,” the doctor ordered as he put his hands on her shoulders. “You’ve got too many stitches. You have to remain stationary—”

“I want . . . my br-brother . . .”

“Family should be notified,” the nurse snapped. She glared at Brent as if saying . . . Why the hell didn’t you bring in her brother first?

Brent squared his shoulders. “I’m sorry, but your brother . . .” Oh, hell. More tears were falling from her eyes. “Your brother is dead.”

He’d never seen a person break before. But as he stared into Molly’s eyes, he saw it happen. She just seemed to splinter right in front of him. Her face became even paler and her lips moved, but she couldn’t get a sound out. She tried to talk, again, and a low, keening cry escaped from her.

Then she jerked up in bed, fighting the doctor, and trying to reach for Brent. “No! Not Eddie!” Her hands grabbed hold of him and she held tightly to Brent. “N-Not—ah!” Her face contorted in pain.

He looked down. A circle of red had appeared on her white hospital gown.

“I said not to upset the patient!” The doctor rushed over and shoved Brent back. “Leave, now!”

She was bleeding again. Crying out. Her pain seemed to cut right into Brent.

The nurse grabbed his arm and hauled him to the door.

“H-His name . . .”

He jerked away from the nurse. Molly was trying to tell him something. “What, Molly? What is it?”

“H-His name . . .” Molly rasped. The doctor was opening her gown. So much blood. “His n-name was J-Jax . . . Jax Fontaine . . . that’s what he . . .”

The machines beeped even louder.

The nurse pushed him and Gabe all the way out of ICU.

He stood there, his hands clenched, fury twisting in him.

Jax Fontaine.

SARAH HAD BARED her soul to him. Told him things that he was sure she’d never revealed to anyone else. Now she was trembling in his arms, and all he wanted to do was take her pain away.

“Do you want to run away now?” Sarah asked him.

His fingers curled under her chin, and he made her look up at him. “I’m not the running type.” He never had been. “And nothing you could say would scare me off.”

Her gaze searched his. “Why? Why do you want to be with me? I’m sure there are plenty of women who’d jump at the chance to be with you.”

“Plenty,” he agreed as his lips twitched.

“I know you’ve got money, Jax. Money and power mean a lot, in this town and in so many others. So I need you to answer my question. I need to know . . . why me? Is it because you want the thrill of fucking a killer’s daughter? Because I’ve been down that road and—”

“I can kick his ass.” He could and would. “Give me a name and it’s done.” Some prick had used Sarah that way? He would destroy the guy. He would—

“Jax . . .”

He liked it when she said his name. He liked it even more when she screamed it. Or when she moaned it.

“I don’t give a shit about your father.” Actually, he did. Jax hated that the man had hurt Sarah so much. And he was glad the guy was far away from Sarah so that he couldn’t do any more damage to her. “I’m fucking you because I look at you and I want.” Simple fact. “I want you naked. I want in you. I want you so much that I know my control won’t hold long, not when you’re around. Because the desire I feel for you is too raw, too strong.” Too unlike anything he’d ever felt, and, yeah, he had plenty of opportunities to hook up with others. But those other women . . . they weren’t Sarah.

There was only one Sarah.

“When you look at me . . .” Now it was his turn to bare his soul. He figured it was only fair. “What do you see?”

“Strength.” Her response was immediate.

“That’s what I see when I look at you.”

She blinked at him.

“Others . . . when they look at me, they see a criminal.” She needed to hear this. “Make no mistake, Sarah, I haven’t lived an easy life. I’ve broken laws. Done things that I regret.” And things that he’d never regret. “When it’s do-or-die, we all have to fight, and I’m a fighter to my core.”

“I know.”

Yes, she did.

“I try to follow a few rules. I never hurt a woman, no matter what the hell she’s done.” Because of the woman who’d raised him. Because she had loved him, and he’d loved her. He’d wanted to protect her, but that bastard who’d taken him . . . that bastard had hurt her again and again.

Until I got big enough to stop him. I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her ever again.

He brushed his knuckles over Sarah’s cheeks. He felt the faint wetness of her tears. “I don’t hurt innocents.” He never went after the weak. When he ran his business, the people he was involved with knew the score. Always.

“The world isn’t black and white.” Oh, hell, no, it wasn’t. “I’ve been operating in the gray for a long time.” Until Sarah. Until she’d made him want to step out and into the light again. “I wish I could be different.” He looked down at all of the tats on his hands and thought of the battles he’d faced. “But you can’t change the past.”

If they’d come to find me . . . if my parents had looked . . .

If anyone had looked for me . . .

But he’d always known that his real family hadn’t cared. No one had ever bothered to search for him.

“You’re not the only one with nightmares, pretty Sarah.” He still dreamed of being trapped in that closet. Being a lost, scared kid. Calling out for his mother. Only she’d never come for him.

Then, later, the dreams had changed. He’d been a teenager. The bastard who took him . . . he’d come swinging at Jax when he stepped in front of Charlene. Jax had swung back. He’d hit him so hard and the man had slipped, falling down those stairs . . . falling . . . falling . . .

How do I tell her that I killed a man when I was fifteen? No one knew. Charlene had helped him. They’d covered up the past.

Another secret to stay buried.

But maybe, maybe Sarah could handle—

His phone rang. Jax swore. Someone had serious shit for timing.

“It could be the hospital,” Sarah said. “Gabe knew I was coming with you . . .”

He rose from the bed. He had on a pair of jogging sweats and he stalked toward the ringing phone. Jax glanced down at the screen and saw Brent West’s number flash on the screen. He answered, saying, “Is Molly all right?”

“She’s up and she’s talking.” West’s voice was hushed. “Get your lawyer man, get him fast.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m outside your place.” Again, his words were low, as if he didn’t want others to overhear him. “Molly named you. She said you took her.”

What the hell?

“I have to bring you in,” Brent said. “Procedure, shit—the captain is chomping at the bit on this one, so I have to bring you in,” he told him again.

Jax strode to his window. He saw Brent’s car outside, but Brent wasn’t alone. A cruiser was pulling up, and was that—yes, the man standing under the street light looked like Gabe Spencer.

“Call the lawyer, then come out.” Brent hung up.

Jax stared down at the phone. He quickly deleted that call from his phone list, not wanting to have that record in case anyone searched his phone.

“Jax? What is it?”

Sarah rose from the bed. She wrapped the sheet around her and it trailed over the hardwood floor as she came toward him. “Is Molly awake?”

“Yes.” He kept his gaze on the swirl of blue lights.

Sarah gasped and he knew she’d seen the lights, too.

“I didn’t do it, Sarah.”

“Jax?”

“I didn’t have anything to do with her disappearance.” Now he turned toward her. “I wouldn’t try to hurt you.”

“I know that.”

He nodded. “Good. Remember that, would you?” He grabbed for his clothes. And dressed as quickly as he could because he’d be damned if the cops hauled him out of his house half naked.

Sarah grabbed his arm. “What’s happening?”

“Molly’s awake, and, according to a tip I just got, she’s saying that I’m the man who took her.”

Her hand jerked away from him, as if she’d been burned. “That’s not possible.”

He pointed to the window and the swirl of blue lights. “They’re here to take me in.” He dialed his lawyer. The guy was on retainer, so it was no big surprise that—even in the middle of the night—Ty answered on the second ring. “Meet me at the station,” Jax ordered him.

Ty swore. “What is it now?”

“If I had to guess, then I’d say the charges will be kidnapping and attempted murder.” Those would just be the start.

“Holy shit . . .”

Exactly.

He heard rustling and turned to see Sarah yanking on her clothes. She was moving so fast.

And someone was pushing on the call button near his main gate. The buzzing sound echoed through the house.

“Hurry to that station,” Jax told his lawyer. He shoved the phone in his pocket. Then he crossed the room to stand in front of Sarah. “I didn’t do this.”

“I know.” Her chin lifted. “I know you didn’t.”

Good. Because plenty of people had doubted him over the years and if Sarah had, too . . .

He kissed her. Not wild and hard. Soft. Gentle.

She tasted so damn sweet.

But he had to pull away from her. Had to walk down those stairs and to the door. He was aware of Sarah following silently behind him. He didn’t look back at her. Right then, he couldn’t. Jax sucked in a deep breath before he turned off his alarm. He had to get his game face on. The face he wore with everyone but Sarah.

Then he reached for the door. He walked across the courtyard and straight toward his gate. He deactivated the security there, too. When he yanked the gate open, Jax was smiling. He looked at Detective West. At that dick Cross who was rushing to join the little party. At the uniformed cops.

“Well, well, little late for a chat, isn’t it?” Jax asked.

Brent stepped forward. “You need to come with us.”

“Am I under arrest?” Because he needed to be clear on that.

Brent gave a short, negative shake of his head. But it was Cross who spoke. “You’re wanted for questioning, Fontaine.” And he had his cuffs at the ready.

Jax felt his smile turn into a snarl. If that guy actually thought he’d cuff him . . . right on Jax’s own property . . .

“He didn’t do it,” Sarah said from behind him. “Jax had nothing to do with Molly Guthrie’s abduction.”

“And how would you know about that?” Cross demanded. “Did he tell you that we were coming to arrest him—”

“I have my own intel. I know exactly what’s going on.”

Her voice was so cool and in control. It was hard to believe that she was the woman who’d been so vulnerable in his arms just moments before.

“Jax has been with me . . . he was with me. The night that Molly vanished, he and I were in bed together.”

Gabe had approached, and Jax knew the guy had been close enough to overhear her confession.

“He didn’t take Molly. You’ve got the wrong man.”

Brent looked from Jax to Sarah. “We have to follow procedure,” he said.

Of course, procedure was always so big with the cops.

“You’d better call a lawyer,” Cross growled.

Jax smiled. “He’ll show up.” But before he left with them, Jax glanced back at Sarah. “Don’t worry. I’ll be seeing you again soon.”

“You didn’t do it!”

She was so convinced of his innocence. That was touching. But surely even Sarah realized that if he’d wanted to take someone—even when Sarah was curled up in bed with him—all he had to do was make a phone call.

He knew the cops realized that fact, and, based on the assessing stare in Gabe’s eyes, that guy knew it, too.

He wondered . . . had the cops found out that he’d owned that building that had exploded, the little place a few minutes from Bourbon Street? He knew the fire marshal was still supposed to be studying those charred remains. Maybe the cops had finally untangled the paper trail for that building and tied it back to Jax.

“I’ll prove your innocence, Jax,” she said. “They won’t pin this on you.”

He nodded. No, they wouldn’t, but it was nice to know that she was ready to protect him. “See you soon, Sarah.” Then his gaze cut back to Gabe. He stalked toward the other man, moving right by the cops. “He’s out there,” he told Gabe. “Waiting. Watch your team.” Watch Sarah. Jax had already given orders that his men were to keep a watch on her. But he wanted to be there, making absolutely certain she was all right. As soon as he ditched the cops . . .

I’ll come back for you, Sarah.

HE WATCHED FROM across the street as Jax Fontaine was led away by the cops.

Step one . . . divide.

Step two . . . fucking conquer.

He smiled as Sarah stared after the disappearing car lights. Poor Sarah. She looked so upset. Having her lover ripped from her in the middle of the night must have been painful.

It would be nothing compared to the hell that he had coming her way.

Sarah and the other guy, Gabe, they got in his vehicle. Cranked it up. He waited a little bit and then he slid into his car and followed them. In the darkness, they didn’t even see him. So much for being the savvy LOST agents.

How would they react when one of their own vanished and was never seen again?

“THIS IS BULLSHIT,” Sarah said flatly. “Jax didn’t do this. He was with me. He was—”

“The guy has a mini army at his beck and call. If he wanted one of his men to take that woman, all he had to do was snap his fingers.”

No, Gabe hadn’t just said that to her. She twisted in her seat so that she could better glare at him. “He wouldn’t do that.” Jax had rules. He had—

“You don’t know him, Sarah. I get that you’re having sex with him, and that’s your business, but this guy . . . have you seen his juvie rap sheet? I mean, come on, he wasn’t exactly playing light and easy back in those days.”

She wasn’t at all surprised he’d gotten access to files that should have been sealed. “If you were a teenager cast out on the street, I’m sure you’d break the law in order to survive, too.” But Gabe hadn’t been like Jax. Gabe had been given a family that loved him. He’d been protected. He’d had a home. Food. Clothing. He’d had—

“She ID’d him, Sarah. I was there. I heard her—she described him and she said his name. I would think the woman would remember the identity of the guy who tried to kill her.”

“You’d be surprised,” she said as her stomach twisted in knots. “The mind can trick anyone.” And so could a smart killer. “I need to talk with her.”

“Yes, well that’s probably not going to happen right now. She got a little . . . agitated during Detective West’s questioning. She reopened her wounds, and the doctor kicked him out.”

Her hands fisted in her lap. “You should have contacted me the minute she woke up. I could have helped. I could have—”

“You’re the one always telling me that you’re better at profiling the killers, and not at figuring out the victims.”

She flinched.

“You’d barely crawled out of the fire yourself. I just wanted you to rest,” he continued, his voice softer. “I sure as hell didn’t realize she’d be pointing the finger at your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” The words were automatic. They were also true. He was nothing as simple as a boyfriend. A hot and intense lover. A man who broke through her defenses. A man who’d learned her secrets . . . “And he didn’t do this.”

“I wish I could be as certain as you are, but Sarah, come on, you can look into that guy’s eyes and see the truth.”

His words made fury twist within her. “What truth is that?”

“He’s got the killer instinct,” Gabe said with certainty. “I saw that instinct in the eyes of SEALs. They would do whatever necessary to get the job done. No fear. No hesitation. He looks the same way, and a man like that can be very, very dangerous.”

He’s not a threat to me.

“Why do you trust him so much? Make me understand.”

She turned her left hand over so that she could see her wrist. “He’s not afraid of my darkness.”

“Okay, I don’t even know that the hell that means.”

He was driving fast and hard down the road. And . . .

Sarah could have sworn that she heard another engine growling. One that was very close. She turned her head and looked behind them. She didn’t see anyone. They’d turned onto an older road, one that was so dark. No street lights.

That growling sound came again.

“Gabe . . .” She began.

“I hear it,” he snapped back. “Hold on.”

He shoved down the gas and they lurched forward. There were lights up ahead, she could see them. If they got there, then whoever was hiding behind them would be revealed. Someone is driving back there, with the headlights off so we can’t see him.

Tricky bastard.

“Maybe it’s just Jax’s men,” Sarah offered. Keeping an eye on them. Like before—

“No, I don’t think so.”

She didn’t really think so, either. Jax wouldn’t want his men to scare her.

Gabe had rolled down his window a bit. The better to hear the growl of the other engine? “Sounds like a Mustang and he’s—”

Gunfire exploded. It pounded into the back of Gabe’s car. She could hear the sound of breaking glass even as Gabe yelled, “Get down!”

She ducked, getting as low as she could in the car even as they raced forward. That bastard back there was shooting at them? What the hell?

Then she heard the thunder of gunfire again. It was slamming into the back bumper. Driving through the chunks of glass that remained. Gabe grunted, the sound quick and pain-filled.

He’s been hit!

“Gabe?”

“Gun . . . in glove box . . .”

She fumbled, trying to get to that glove box even as—

They crashed.

WHEN THEIR VEHICLE slammed into the pole, he braked his car. He was smiling as he exited and kept his gun at the ready. Had his bullets hit one of the targets? If not, he’d be sure to eliminate Gabe Spencer first. Then he’d have some nice, quality time with Sarah—

“Get back!” That was Sarah’s yell, and he froze because Sarah didn’t sound afraid. She sounded furious. “You’re not the only one with a weapon!”

Sirens screamed in the distance. Someone had heard the shots or the crash, and some damn fool good Samaritan had called 911.

“Sarah . . .” He called out her name. He wanted her to know—this was all about her. “Did my bullet hit your friend?” Because he could just see the guy’s slumped figure in the front of the car. “That’s on you, Sarah!” But he took a step back into the darkness. “Anyone between us . . . I’ll take them out. You’re going to be mine. You’re—”

That bitch shot at him. And she hit him. The bullet burned across his upper arm and he jerked back.

Then she was running around the car. Coming at him. And the scream of that siren was just getting louder and louder. He jumped back into his car. Revved the engine.

Fucking bitch.

He’d be seeing her again.

HE ROARED AWAY. Sarah’s finger was squeezing the trigger but he was weaving, going so fast, and she couldn’t aim at him.

Dammit!

He’d shot Gabe. He was hurting everyone . . . because the guy wanted to get to her. “I’m right here!” Sarah yelled after him.

But the shriek of the sirens was the only response she got.

Sarah whirled around and ran back to the car. She yanked opened Gabe’s door. When she touched his shoulder, she felt the wet warmth of his blood.

“Eve . . . is gonna freak,” Gabe managed.

Her breath heaved out. He’s okay! If he was talking about his Eve, he had to be all right.

She unhooked his seat belt and Sarah hissed out a breath because she could see his wound now. Blood was pumping from his shoulder.

“In . . . and out . . .” He shifted his body, trying to get out of the car. She pushed him right back inside. “Just . . . lost control when it . . . hit me . . .”

“Stay in there until the cops can help us!” She didn’t want to risk that guy coming back. He’d just been . . . shooting at them. Right in the middle of the street. He’d followed them when they left Jax’s house. That was the only explanation but that would mean . . .

He was out there the whole time. Waiting for us. Waiting for his chance to get at me. When the cops had taken Jax, he’d seen his moment to attack.

And he had.

A police cruiser rushed down the road. Sarah looked down and realized that she still had her gun. Oh, such a bad move. The last thing she wanted was to appear armed in front of the cops. She knew how that scene would go down. She put the gun on the cement, raised her hands, and yelled, “We need help!”

Two uniformed cops jumped from the vehicle.

“He’s been shot! Hurry, you need to help him!” One of the cops ran forward. “There’s a man who was in a—a Mustang.” Gabe knew his cars. The guy had been able to identify the ride just by the growl of its engine—how wild was that? Sarah rushed to add. “He was just here! Put out an APB. You have to find him. You can—”

“Gun!” the closest cop yelled.

Sarah tensed. “I put the gun down when you arrived. He was shooting at us. I had to stop him from killing Gabe!” They had to listen to her. “The man who did this—he just left! Get the APB out now. We can find him!”

But they weren’t grabbing for their radios. They were closing in slowly. And the man so determined to kill her—he’d just gotten away.