Текст книги "Shattered"

Автор книги: Cynthia Eden

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Sarah’s hand fell back to her side.

“I tried to save her, but I couldn’t. I figured my past died with her.” His fingers pressed to the glass. “But then I learned all about the LOST group, thanks to Emma. And I realized I might just find out where I’d come from, after all.”

She wanted to help him. No, more than that. Sarah needed to help him. She’d thought that Jax was strong, dangerous—he was. But there was so much happening beneath the surface with him.

Sarah glanced back over her shoulder. Dean had tensed at the mention of Emma’s name. No big surprise there, considering that the guy was in love with Emma Castille. But, once upon a time, Emma had been involved with Jax. Intimately involved. Sarah knew Dean didn’t exactly like having Jax anyplace near Emma but . . .

Don’t worry, Dean. Jax has moved on. Sarah just wasn’t going to get into the specifics of that whole moving-on bit right then.

Gabe’s intent stare was on Jax. It was Gabe who would make the final call about the case. He’d be the one to tell them if they could go ahead or if—

Gabe nodded, a small inclination of his head. “We’ll see what we can find for you.”

Instead of relaxing, Jax’s powerful shoulders tensed even more.

“But you should be warned,” Gabe continued, “you might not like what we discover.”

Jax just laughed as he turned to face them all once more. “Obviously, you don’t know what my life has been like. Nothing can be much worse than what I’ve lived through already.”

Sarah believed him.

Seven years old.

A chair leg scraped. Sarah glanced back and saw that Victoria had risen to her feet. “We’ll need your DNA,” Victoria said. “We should do some blood work. We’ll check NamUs and see if any reports match your case.”

NamUs—the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System. Yes, they could check the database and see if there was a report of a seven-year-old boy vanishing around a timeline that fit Jax’s story. They could see—

“Don’t bother with NamUs,” Jax said, his voice close to a growl. “Did you think I hadn’t already tried them? Hell, I’ve hired three PIs in the last two years. No one ever turns up anything.” His gaze bored into Sarah’s. “I want you to be different.”

“We don’t give up easily,” she whispered.

“Good. Neither do I.” There was a deeper, harder note in his last words.

She shivered.

What is he doing to me?

Sarah backed away from him.

And Jax smiled.

“WAKE UP, MOLLY.”

The voice was low, rumbling, and it pierced through the heavy darkness around Molly Guthrie. She jerked, but found that her hands were tied behind her back. She was sitting on a hard wooden chair, and her feet were bound to the chair’s legs.

It was pitch-black around her, and even though she strained, Molly couldn’t see anything.

But he’s there.

“Please,” she whispered. “Let me go. I won’t tell anyone about you.” Her words came out slurred and rough, and she wondered what he’d used to drug her.

But he laughed. “Liar. You get out, you’ll tell everyone.”

She shook her head. “I—I promise.”

She thought she heard the faint creak of wood. As if he’d stepped forward, somewhere in that darkness. Somewhere . . . close.

“I’m not ready to lose you, not yet.”

Then she felt something cold and hard slide up her arm. Something with a sharpened tip, like a knife.

Please, no, not a knife. Not the knife!

“Are you thinking about your mother?” he asked her. His voice was such a deep rumble and an image of his face flashed in her mind. He’d been handsome. He’d smiled. Looked . . . charming. It had seemed safe enough to walk with him.

He isn’t safe.

“How long do you think she screamed for help?”

Molly didn’t know. She’d tried so hard not to think about her mother over the years. Or to imagine what her last moments would have been like.

“She probably screamed for help first,” he said, voice almost musing. “But then I bet . . . I bet she started begging to die.”

Molly shook her head, an instinctive move.

His insidious laughter came again. “You don’t think so? That’s what they usually do, before the end. Because the pain gets to be too much, and by then, the only escape is death.”

A tear slid down her cheek.

“We’ll find out, you and I,” he promised as the tip of the knife pressed into her cheek. “We’ll see just how long it is before you start to beg.”

Then there was a flash, bright, as if—as if he’d just taken her picture.

“Now we begin . . .”

Chapter 4

WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SOMETHING TO ME LAST NIGHT?”

Jax turned at Sarah’s question. She’d followed him out of that hotel suite and now she was in the elevator with him. The scent of vanilla clung in the air around him, and it was so tempting to have her near. He wanted to reach out and touch her.

He didn’t.

Jax knew he wouldn’t stop with a touch. He wouldn’t stop until he fucked her again, and while sex in an elevator—with her—would no doubt be amazing, this wasn’t the time.

The doors closed, sealing them inside. “Let’s see . . .” he murmured. “Did you want me to say something before we fucked? Or maybe after you snuck from my bed?”

Her cheeks flushed. Cute. He hadn’t been sure he could make her blush. He could.

“That’s why you came to see me last night, isn’t it?” Sarah asked. “Because you wanted to hire LOST, not because you . . . you wanted me.”

He stepped closer to her. Sarah didn’t retreat. He rather liked that about her. “Let’s be clear,” Jax said, his words soft. “I want you very, very much.”

She swallowed.

He smiled. “Hiring LOST is totally separate from us. But, yes, I came to this hotel because I wanted to see about hiring your group. Then you had that asshole in the ski mask try to knife you, and things got a little off track.”

Her eyelids flickered and she glanced over at the elevator’s control panel. They were slowing now, and the doors opened. As soon as the little ding stopped sounding overhead, she tried to hurry past him.

He made sure to keep perfect pace with her as they moved into the lobby. “Do you want to tell me . . .” Jax began softly, “why you were afraid when you came into that suite earlier?”

She stopped in the middle of the lobby and turned toward him.

He stood right beside her, but he was careful not to touch her. “Tell me,” he pushed, “why you’re scared now.” Surely she wasn’t afraid of him. Hadn’t he shown her that he wouldn’t hurt her? If he had his way, he’d destroy anyone who ever even thought about hurting her. Like that jerk from last night who’d—

“I went to see Eddie Guthrie this morning.”

Ah, that would be the jerk in question.

But then she shook her head. “Look, no, forget about me, okay. You’re a client. I’m supposed to be interviewing you. So let’s go grab some coffee and we can talk—see what you might remember about your past and go from there.”

So adorable. Did she actually think he’d never tried to visit a shrink and unlock the memories of his life before the kidnapping? “It’s not that easy.”

A faint furrow appeared between her brows. “Coffee is easy, I promise.”

She was good at evasion and distraction. He was better. “Eddie Guthrie made you afraid today. Even though he’s locked away.” He didn’t like that. “Want me to take care of that problem for you?”

Sarah paled, then quickly glanced around. In the next instant, she was grabbing him. “Do not,” she whispered, “threaten to kill someone in a public place!”

He laughed. Jax just couldn’t help it. “Oh, princess, I didn’t say anything about killing.” His reputation must have preceded him, again. It happened. Sometimes, that was good, and sometimes, that was bad.

She looked as if she wanted to question him, but then she gave a hard, negative shake of her head. “Just forget Eddie, okay? I’ll deal with him. After you and I are done, I’ll meet with Gabe and we’ll figure out the next step.”

He rather liked Gabe Spencer. Jax hadn’t thought he would. He genuinely liked only a handful of individuals in this world, and he respected even fewer. But he’d done his research on Gabe, and the ex-SEAL legitimately seemed to want to help others. So Jax had taken a chance and called the man today.

Then they’d had that little meet and greet in the hotel suite. Sure, a few of the LOST members—or, rather, two . . . Wade and Dean—had looked as if they’d like to slug Jax, not take his case, but he thought the whole deal had gone rather well. Or as well as he’d expected.

“You won’t tell me why you’re afraid?” Jax asked her. Because her fear was bothering him.

“I don’t know if there is even anything to fear yet. Sometimes, people facing jail will say anything to avoid getting locked up. Sometimes, they’ll act like they have intel or leverage or something that the cops need, hoping they can work out a deal. So the guy could just be bluffing. But I’ll figure all of that out. Right now, my focus is on you.” Her hold tightened on Jax. “Now, look, can we go someplace and just . . . talk? I have questions that I need to ask you before LOST can proceed.”

If they proceeded. He knew her team was still trying to decide if his story was real.

It’s real.

“Not in public.” His voice was close to a growl so he tried to soften that, adding, “The last thing I want is some dumbass in a coffee shop overhearing about my past. We’ll go back to my place, talk there.”

“Right.” She looked down and seemed to realize that she was holding tightly to him. Her hands immediately pulled back, as if she’d been burned. “We can take a cab.”

“No need.” He gave her a tiger’s smile. “I brought my motorcycle.”

One brow rose. “In those clothes?”

“Of course.” He paused a beat. “You seemed to like the ride last night.”

She bit on her lower lip.

He wanted to be the one biting that lip. “You want to hear all about my past, then come with me. I’ll give you every dark detail that you want to hear.” Details he’d never told to anyone else. But, as she’d slipped away from him that morning, he’d come to a decision.

It was time to know the truth. Time to finally figure out what had happened to him.

The past would be laid to rest and he could finally start focusing on the future.

“All right.” Her shoulders straightened. “Let’s go for that ride.”

Hell, yes. Soon, he’d have Sarah exactly where he wanted her.

They headed for the revolving glass doors that would take them out of the hotel. They’d taken only about four steps when Sarah’s phone gave a little beep. She paused and glanced apologetically up at him. “Sorry, I need to see”—her gaze dropped to the screen and her fingers swiped across the surface—“if it’s—”

Sarah sucked in a sharp breath. “No.”

He leaned closer to her, craning his head so that he could see the image that had just appeared on the screen.

“Please,” Sarah whispered. “No.” Her hand was trembling around the phone.

A photo filled the screen of her phone. A woman was in that photo—fairly young, with long red hair that was tangled around her terrified face. Blood slid from a cut on her cheek, and the woman’s arms appeared to be pulled behind her—tied behind her?

“I know her,” Sarah whispered. “She looks just like Gwen did.” A stark pause. “That’s his sister, Molly.”

“What the hell?” Jax demanded. Whose sister?

Sarah was frantically tapping on her screen. She called someone then—maybe the person who’d just sent that fucked-up picture to her? Sarah had the phone at her ear, and fear flashed across her face as she seemed to wait for someone to answer her call.

MOLLY’S PHONE WAS ringing. Right on time. Humming, he picked up that phone and turned on the speaker. After all, he needed to be able to hear all of this conversation—and so did Molly. He brought the phone in nice and close to Molly. In the darkness he’d created, the glow from the phone was the only light.

“Hello?” Ah, that slightly sharp and desperate voice would belong to Sarah Jacobs. Dr. Sarah Jacobs. “Who is this?” Sarah demanded.

With his left hand, he sliced the knife down Molly’s arm. She screamed. A high-pitched, desperate cry.

“Molly?” Sarah asked. “Molly Guthrie?”

Another slice of his knife had Molly screaming again.

“Stop!” Now it was Sarah who yelled. “I know you’re there . . .” Her voice dropped. “Why are you hurting Molly?”

He smiled. He’d been waiting for this moment for so long. When he’d seen her picture in the paper and realized that Sarah was in his town, he’d moved up his attack. Why go all the way to Atlanta and hunt her, when he could make her play the game right there, in his own backyard? Especially since she was already there and tangled up with Jax Fontaine. Too perfect.

He brought the phone to his mouth. “Hurry up,” he told her. “See if you can find the girl before she dies.”

“Who is this?”

Ah, it wouldn’t be that easy. Her question was really an insult. She was the profiler. She was the one who had to figure all of this shit out.

“She’s lost,” he taunted, “so come and find her.”

SHE’S LOST, SOcome and find her. He’d hung up on her. The man’s words rang in her ears as Sarah slowly lowered her phone. She knew the woman in that picture—the woman who looked so terrified was Molly Guthrie. Sarah knew because she’d been researching Eddie Guthrie online, and she’d stumbled onto the guy’s social media pages. He’d had so many pictures of his sister Molly posted. Only Molly had been smiling in those photographs.

She hadn’t been tied to a chair with blood sliding down her face. She sure hadn’t been screaming in terror.

“What’s going on?” Jax demanded. “Sarah?”

“I—I have to call the police.” She’d stuttered. She tried to never stutter. Never show any weakness but . . .

Molly had been screaming.

And then Sarah could almost hear her father’s voice whispering in her mind . . .

No one is screaming. No one at all.

She pushed away from Jax. Her movements were too quick and jerky, and when she looked to the left, she saw Wade stepping out of the elevator. Gabe was with him. She ran toward them, aware that Jax was right on her heels.

When he saw her rushing toward him, Wade’s eyes widened. “Sarah?”

She didn’t speak, not then. Fear was closing her throat. She shoved her phone toward him—her phone and the picture of a terrified Molly.

Gabe crowded in behind Wade. “What in the hell is going on?” Gabe demanded.

“That’s the same thing I wanted to know,” Jax said.

Her breath heaved out. “We have to find her.” Come and find her. “Before he kills her.”

AS A GENERAL rule, Jax liked to avoid police stations. And cops. Cops tended to piss him off, and as for the police stations . . . well, he’d already spent more than enough time in them.

But he’d tagged along with the LOST group, driven by both curiosity and an odd urge to stay near Sarah. He didn’t like it when fear flashed in Sarah’s dark eyes. He rather thought he fucking hated it when her skin paled and the shadows beneath her gorgeous eyes deepened.

There had been fear in her eyes when he first saw her at the hotel room. He’d turned toward her, and the fear had been the first thing he noticed. Surely the others must have seen it, too?

And now that same fear seemed to cling to Sarah as she talked with the cops. Two detectives. Guys he’d met before, in different ways.

One guy was Detective Brent West, a fairly decent detective, even if the guy had a tendency to stick to the rules a bit too much. Jax had done a few favors for Brent over the years. Or rather, he’d done some favors for Brent’s family. So now Brent knew to . . . keep him in the loop on certain cases.

The other detective was Lincoln Cross, and Jax’s encounters with Cross had hardly been what he’d call positive. Especially in light of the news he’d recently gotten about the guy’s activities. You’re going to be paying for that, Detective. Don’t think you’ll escape.

“Let me get this straight,” Cross said as he lifted his hands. The guy hadn’t made direct eye contact with Jax. He kept focusing on Sarah and Gabe. They were all in a conference room down at the PD. “You’re saying Molly Guthrie has been abducted? And that the man who took her called you?”

“Yes—and I’ve said that same thing five times!” Impatience bit through Sarah’s words. “Now, we’re wasting time. I came to you first because I knew the cops needed to be involved.” Ah, she was definitely getting pissed by their lack of action. Jax could tell it in her sharpening voice. “But if you’re not doing anything, then my team can be out there, hitting the streets! Every moment counts in an abduction case, Detectives, and you both know that.”

A muscle jerked in Brent’s jaw. Yeah, he knew it. Jax also thought the guy would have preferred to be out in the street, searching for the victim, right then. But Cross was the lead there. Dick that he was.

“The first forty-eight hours are the most important,” Gabe said, his voice devoid of emotion. “We don’t usually get involved in a case this early, and while we have the time, we damn well need to be moving.”

“You’re involved . . .” Cross began, “because the abductor just up and called Dr. Jacobs. Odd, isn’t it? I mean, I think that’s odd.”

Jax was surprised the guy could think.

“Odd or not, it happened.” Sarah jumped from her chair. “Now are you going to do anything? Put out an APB? Go to Molly’s house? Hunt for her before that guy cuts her into little pieces?”

Jax saw Brent wince. It also looked like Brent was sweating.

“We’ll investigate,” Cross said through gritted teeth. “I do know how to do my job.”

“Do you?” Jax just couldn’t resist.

He didn’t think Cross’s jaw could clench much harder, but the detective muttered, “I’ll send a patrol over to the woman’s house right now.”

“And two of my men will go with that patrol,” Gabe said. He inclined his head toward a watchful Wade and Dean. “After all, we were contacted directly, so my team will be involved throughout this investigation.”

“That’s not—” Cross began angrily.

“Take it up with your captain,” Gabe snapped.

Cross flushed.

But at least the guy finally got moving. He stood and marched for the door. Jax moved a bit, placing himself closer to the exit so that Cross had to look his way. Disgust tightened his face. “So now you’re with them?” Cross asked Jax. “What are they doing, using a criminal to catch a criminal or some twisted bull like that?”

“You’d know,” Jax said, keeping his voice low so that only Cross would hear him. “Isn’t that exactly what you do?”

Cross wasn’t a cop with a spotless reputation. His flush deepened as he jerked open the door. “Excellent cooperation we have here,” Gabe murmured. “Amazing.”

Jax’s lips almost twitched.

“We’ll report back in once we get to the victim’s house,” Wade said.

Ah, so Wade was calling her the victim already. Based on the photo Jax had seen, the woman definitely qualified as that. He was curious to see just what the LOST agents and the cops were going to do to find her.

Because he already had his own plan of attack forming.

When Wade and Dean left the room, the door shut softly behind them. That left Sarah, Gabe, Victoria, and Detective Brent West in the room with Jax. He kept his shoulders propped up against the wall . . . and he waited.

“You want to talk to the brother, don’t you?” Brent said as he rubbed a hand over his face. “But until the PD can confirm that Molly Guthrie has been abducted, I can’t let you see him again. The guy has a lawyer now—court appointed—and no one but PD can see him.”

Then Brent glanced over at Jax. His head inclined slightly, just the faintest of movements.

“Now,” Brent murmured, “I’m going to see what I can find out about Molly Guthrie. I’ll talk to her brother, and if I learn anything—”

“You’ll let us know?” Gabe pushed.

Brent nodded. “And you let me know if you get any other calls.” The cops had confiscated Sarah’s phone as soon as she arrived and told her story. They’d done some tracking work and found out that Molly Guthrie’s phone had actually been used to text Sarah—and that was the number Sarah had called back.

Only now Molly’s phone seemed to have vanished from the grid. It wasn’t pinging on any towers, at least not according to the cops.

“I want us to work together on this,” Brent said, and there seemed to be sincerity in his tone. “Because I know just what your team can do, and my priority is to bring that victim back alive.”

Then he was striding toward the door.

While Sarah, Victoria, and Gabe talked, Jax slipped from the room. He strolled down the hall, and then he saw Brent, standing near an office on the right. They both ducked inside that office.

“What the hell is going on?” Brent demanded as he glanced toward the door, probably trying to make sure they weren’t being watched. “Since when are you working with LOST?”

Jax had plenty of eyes and ears around the city—and not all of those eyes and ears belonged to criminals. “Since I took a personal interest in them.” An interest in Sarah.

“What have you stepped in here, man?” Brent demanded. He blew out a hard breath. “First that kid Guthrie goes after the sexy shrink, then, this morning, he pretty much admits someone else put him up to the attack—”

“What?” Jax closed in on him. “Run that by me again, nice and slow.” Sarah had told him some about her little chat with Guthrie, but Jax wanted all the details.

“I—I let her back to talk with him for a few minutes. I know I shouldn’t have, but, shit, maybe it’s those big, dark eyes of hers. They just—they got to me, so I thought . . . what would a few minutes hurt? And she’s a professional after all! Not like I’m sending in some civilian off the street.”

The guy needed to hurry along his little story.

“So she gets to talking with the kid and the guy—Eddie—he’s all pissed about what her dad did. Says that’s why he attacked the shrink.” Brent gave a low whistle. “You’ve heard the story, right? Her father is Murphy Jacobs! Murphy the fucking monster Jacobs! Do you know how many people he killed?”

From the accounts that Jax had read, no one knew, not for certain.

“The kid went after her because Murphy killed his mother. Only when he’s talking, right there at the end, Eddie says, ‘He told me where you were.’ ”

“Who told him?” This was the part of the story that interested Jax the most. Sarah had brushed it off, trying to act as if Eddie had just been spouting bull. But if he was spouting BS, then why did Sarah seem so afraid when she first came into the hotel room?

“I don’t know! The kid shut down after that. Even after she left, I couldn’t get him to say more.” Brent nodded. “But someone sent him to that hotel. He was the weapon that someone else used. Just aimed him and fired him at the shrink.”

No wonder she’d been afraid. Despite her words to Jax . . . Sarah knows someone else is after her. Would that be the same someone who’d sent her that picture of Molly?

Brent cast another nervous glance toward the closed door. “I shouldn’t be talking to you here.”

Jax waved that away. “Just tell anyone who asks that you were threatening me. ’Cause we all know that shit happens all the time.” Plenty of cops swore they’d be taking him down.

They hadn’t.

But he’d sure sent away plenty of dirty cops.

“I want to know who sent the kid after Sarah.”

Brent hesitated. “This . . . personal interest you have in LOST . . . it’s her, isn’t it?”

Jax just stared back at him. “You’ll find out who sent the kid after her.”

“I’ll do my best, but if Eddie isn’t talking—”

“Make him talk, or I will.” So many people just didn’t seem to understand how far his reach extended. They would, soon enough. “All I’d need would be five minutes alone with the guy.”

Brent’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “You really think I could just take you right back to the guy’s holding cell? Because that shit would go over so smoothly with everyone here!”

Brent wasn’t getting the full picture. Maybe he needed a little help. “I’d go back to the cells, if you arrested me.”

Brent frowned at him.

“Like it would be the first time that happened,” Jax murmured, smiling.

Then Jax heard a knock at the door. Seconds later, that door opened and Sarah was there, edging carefully into the room. “Jax, I thought I saw you come in here—” She broke off, obviously catching sight of Brent. “Is everything all right?”

“Same shit as always,” Jax told her with a shrug. “Cops warning me to stick to the straight and narrow, but that’s what I do every day.” He saluted the cop. “See you around, Detective.”

Muttering, Brent hurried past them.

Sarah shook her head. “They love giving you a hard time, don’t they?”

So sweet. It sounded as if she were worried about him. “Don’t fret, princess. I can handle anything they throw at me.” But he was still ready to get out of that station. He caught her hand, threaded his fingers with hers, and stalked from the room. As they made their way out of the bullpen, he was aware of the stares on him. He could hear the mutters.

He ignored them, as usual.

Then they were outside. Cars were zooming down the street up ahead, and there were plenty of tourists filling the street.

“I . . . I need to work on this case, Jax.” Her voice was soft. “I promise, I will get LOST to help you find your family, but right now, Molly has to be our priority. I’m sorry.”

He squeezed her fingers. “I’ve been waiting years to find out about my past. You think I can’t spare a few more days?” Days that Molly might not have? He wasn’t that much of a selfish bastard.

Her breath caught. “You . . . why did you come to the police station?” She glanced back at it. “You hate being there. You didn’t have to follow with us.”

“You were there,” he said simply. “So that meant I needed to go, too.”

Her fingers pulled away from his. Sarah shook her head. “I don’t understand you.”

Who did?

“What do you want from me?”

Everything. But he didn’t think she was ready to hear that part, not yet.

“I can help,” he told her simply.

Her gaze—so dark and deep—searched his.

“You know I have contacts that you want to use.”

He could see the struggle on her face.

“Use me,” he dared her. “Because I rather think I’d enjoy having you indebted to me.”

“LOST would owe you,” Sarah said carefully.

A car whizzed by them.

He moved then, standing so that he was closer to the road. His body curled near her. “You would owe me,” he told her clearly. “You, Sarah. Just you.”

She bit her lip. Did she have any clue that he found that move fucking sexy?

“Before I went in that police station, I called my friend Carlos . . . I told him to learn everything he could about Molly Guthrie.” He waited a beat. “Want to see what he’s learned? Because Carlos is very good at uncovering secrets.” Mostly because when people saw Carlos, they knew to be afraid. At six-foot-four and weighing over two hundred and fifty pounds, Carlos was a man you didn’t fuck with.

Unless you wanted to get put down.

“I have my own ways of learning secrets.” Then she backed away from him.

Sighing, he took out his phone. Called Carlos. His friend answered on the second ring. “Hello, Carlos,” Jax murmured, just loudly enough for Sarah to hear. “Where’s the girl?”

Sarah glanced back at him.

“Last night, she was washing dishes on Bourbon Street,” Carlos told him. “I’ve got her leaving work—on foot—at around 4 A.M. No one saw her after that.”

“The name of the bar,” Jax murmured.

“Voodoo Night.”

He knew the place. Hell, he’d almost bought the joint six months ago. “What else?” Jax asked.

“No boyfriend, no angry exes. She attends the community college during the day, works at night, and, no, her neighbors have not seen her this morning.”

Ah, trust Carlos to get there before the cops. “If you learn anything else, let me know.”

“Always, boss,” Carlos promised.

Jax put down his phone. Sarah was staring up at him. She even tapped her foot.

He let both of his brows rise.

“Tell me,” she demanded.

“Let’s take a ride on my bike.”

Sarah’s eyes went molten. So dark and fiery.

“I’ll take you to the last place she was seen, princess. Will that help?”

She lunged toward him. “Get me on that bike.”

Ah, he’d thought that would work. “Just remember,” Jax murmured. “You owe me.” He always collected on his debts.

VICTORIA STOOD IN the New Orleans police bullpen. Voices were buzzing around her. The cops moving so fast. Everything seemed too loud. Too rough.

But then, that was the way things had been for her in the last few days. She’d gotten out of the hospital after her abduction and attack, and she’d thought life would return to normal.

It hadn’t.

But the nightmares had started. Terrible twisting dreams.

“Viki?”

At Gabe’s call, she flinched. She hadn’t meant to do that, dammit. She didn’t want her boss knowing just how rattled she was. Victoria turned toward him, carefully schooling her features.

“Are you all right?” he asked her.

Ah, that was Gabe. Always checking on his team. His handsome face was etched with concern.

“Of course,” she lied. Like she’d tell him—or anyone—that she was falling apart on the inside.

His lips thinned. “I want you heading back to Atlanta.”

What?

“Take some time off. You don’t have to jump right back into a case, especially not this one.” He glanced around them, then muttered, “I have a bad feeling in my gut about this case. First the girl’s brother sneaks into Sarah’s hotel room, then Molly’s photo gets sent to Sarah?” He shook his head. “Coincidences don’t happen. Someone is playing a game with us here.”

And he wanted her out of the picture because . . . what? She was some kind of liability because she’d been caught off guard before. “You don’t think I can do my job?” That hurt. Because the job was all she had.

She’d never been particularly comfortable around other people. Not like Gabe was or Dean was, anyway. She said the wrong thing. Stumbled over her words. But the dead . . . she made a difference with them. She helped then.

Gabe’s face softened as he focused on her. “I think you can do anything.” He sounded as if he meant those words. “But I also know you went through hell recently.”

Hell . . . Being drugged, sealed in a body bag, and nearly murdered by a madman. Yes, that whole experience hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park. And that’s why the bad dreams haunt me each night. She’d thought about talking with Sarah. If anyone could understand her nightmares, it would be Sarah. And it wasn’t just because Sarah was a psychiatrist.

I know she has nightmares, too.

“I want you to recover. Hell, I’m not letting Emma Castille work this case, either. I gave strict instructions for her to recover, too, and keeping her from joining us here at the station was damn hard.”