Текст книги "Shattered"

Автор книги: Cynthia Eden

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Chapter 9

HE COULDN’T GO DOWN THE STAIRS. NOT WITH the fire shooting out of that room, but Jax had been in buildings like this one before. He knew there was always another set of stairs—some fucking place. Smoke was rising, turning the air around him dark, but he kept advancing. “Sarah!”

“Right . . . behind you.”

He didn’t want her behind him. He wanted her in front of him. He wanted her out of that inferno and someplace safe.

His hold tightened on the unconscious woman in his arms. One look at her wounds and he’d known just how bad off she was. If he left Molly behind, he could run with Sarah. He knew he could get himself and Sarah out of there safely, if he left Molly . . .

“Keep going!” Sarah said. “There’s fresh air—I can feel it!”

He kept going and he didn’t ease his grip on Molly. She’d been hurt, brutalized. Once upon a time, he had just been looking out for himself in the world. When you lived on the streets, you had to look out for number one. Or you died.

But that had been a long time ago.

He glanced down at Molly. She looked so damn weak. Vulnerable.

I’ll get you and Sarah out. Even if he had to carry them both.

Then he saw the second set of stairs. The freak who’d taken Molly might have another booby trap down there for them. The sick bastard. Jax squared his shoulders and started down those stairs. “Put your hand on my back!” he shouted to Sarah. He needed to feel her. He had to know that she was safe, or else he couldn’t go forward.

Sarah’s important. Sarah matters. So much more than he’d realized.

In that inferno, he understood just how well and truly fucked he was.

He hurried down the stairs. The smoke was thick at the top, but as he neared the bottom he could actually see—and he saw the form of a man, rushing forward. Jax tensed.

“Easy . . .” Gabe Spencer said as he reached out to take Molly from Jax. “I’m here to help.”

Gabe had run into a burning building for Sarah. I don’t leave my team behind. His respect for the man notched up.

“She’s . . . bad,” Jax said starkly. I don’t think she’s going to make it, but Sarah is desperate.

Gabe nodded and turned toward the landing.

Jax heard a groan from up above. Oh, hell, he’d heard a groan just like that in the other building. A sound that signaled the ceiling was going to be falling in very soon.

Gabe was rushing out with Molly in his arms. Jax turned, grabbed Sarah’s hand—and they hauled ass together. They flew down the last few stairs and rushed for the door. But to get to that door, they had to go forward about thirty feet . . . and the fire was burning on the ceiling over their heads. Chunks of burning wood fell down on them. One chunk hit Jax in the back, but he didn’t slow down. When Sarah stumbled, he just lifted her up into his arms and ran even faster. Faster, faster . . .

They cleared the door. The air wasn’t much cleaner out there because both buildings were on fire now. Sirens were screaming. Voices were shouting. It was madness.

And the perfect time for the SOB to escape. But Jax couldn’t worry about him. Not then.

Dean ran toward Gabe and helped to carry Molly. They all kept running until they were away from the fire and they were safely behind the perimeter of yellow tape that the cops had set up. Jax could feel blisters on his skin, but he didn’t care. He looked down at Sarah.

“You can stop carrying me,” she told him.

Screw that.

He kissed her. Kissed her right there in front of her team and half of the New Orleans Police Department. Her lips were open when his mouth touched hers, giving him the perfect access that he needed. Fear was a living, breathing beast within him, clawing at his guts, and he needed the affirmation that Sarah was safe. She was alive. She was with him.

And she kissed him back. Just as deeply, as passionately. As if she didn’t care who was watching. As if he were the only one who mattered to her.

One day, I will be.

Slowly, his head lifted. He stared at her. There was so much he wanted to say to Sarah right then, but he didn’t have the words. When it mattered, he never seemed to have them.

“I can stand on my own,” she told him.

Yeah, he knew that. She was one of the strongest women he’d ever met. For her to survive the nightmare of her past, she’d had to be strong. Most people would have been shredded on the inside—and out—after living her life. But she’d turned the nightmare into something good. She’d become a profiler to help people.

She even made him want to be more than he fucking was.

Carefully, he lowered Sarah to her feet.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He wanted to kiss her again. No, he wanted to grab her and run away from that scene. He wanted to take her far away so that she’d always be safe.

But that wasn’t Sarah. He’d already realized she wasn’t the type to hide. Not from anything or anyone. So when the detectives closed in on Sarah, he backed away and let them toss their questions at her.

“How did you know where the vic was being held?” Brent wanted to know.

“Did you see the perp?” Cross demanded in the same instant.

Jax hadn’t seen him. If he had, the guy wouldn’t have walked away.

“Are you okay?” the soft, feminine voice came from his right. His head turned and he saw Emma Castille staring up at him. Worry was stamped on her pretty features. “When you didn’t come out with the cops, I was scared.”

Ah, Emma. Despite what a bastard he’d been in their shared past, she still cared for him. That was one of Emma’s weaknesses . . . her soft heart. He’d always tried to protect her so that others wouldn’t use that weakness against her.

Now Dean Bannon was the one guarding her. With all the ferocity of a lion.

“I couldn’t leave Sarah,” Jax said simply.

Her eyes widened. Once, he’d nearly gotten lost in Emma’s bright eyes. But Emma had been afraid of him. She’d always pulled away from his darkness.

Sarah . . .

Sarah accepts me.

And when he looked into Sarah’s eyes . . . I am fucking lost.

“Since when did you start playing the hero?” Emma’s voice was so low that only he could hear it. “What’s your angle, Jax?”

Ah, right. He was always supposed to have an angle. After all, he had a rep to maintain. His gaze slid back to Sarah. “I’m working things out.” That was the truth. Mostly. He really didn’t like to lie to Emma. She was one of his few friends, even if he knew that she sometimes wished he’d vanish from New Orleans.

An ambulance rushed away from the scene. He tensed. That was Molly—being taken to the hospital. He looked down and realized that her blood stained his clothes and his hands.

“Is she going to make it?” Emma asked softly.

His hands fisted. “She’s young. Had her whole life ahead of her.”

“Jax?”

“She was bad, Em. Real bad.”

He took a step away from her. He needed to call Carlos and he also needed to let his lawyer know where the guy could pick up his car.

Because I’m not leaving this scene. Not without Sarah.

“Dean told me. About your past. Your family.”

He looked back at her.

Pain flashed in Emma’s eyes. “All this time . . . why didn’t you come to me first? You know I would have convinced LOST to take your case.”

He searched her stare. And there it was. Pity. He walked back to her. Smiled down at her. “Because I have been many things to you, Emma Castille, but I have never been a man you pitied.”

Her breath caught. “No, Jax—”

“I just want to know who my mother was. My father. And why the hell I never mattered enough for them to find me.”

Emma’s hand curled around his arm. “You matter.”

He backed away from her. “So do you, Em.” And he was glad, so very glad, that she’d found her partner in Dean. Sure, the guy was a straight-A prick in that follow-the-rules, law-abiding way, but Dean had already proved that he would lay down his life—in an instant—for Emma.

Love could make a man do some stupid shit.

He looked over at Sarah. She was still between the two detectives, but her gaze was on Jax. She looked tired. Ash coated her cheek, and, like him, Molly’s blood stained her clothes and hands.

“It was a near thing,” Emma said from behind him. “I saw the fire raging. Then you rushed out, carrying Sarah with you.”

Leaving her hadn’t been an option. Either Sarah had come out of that blaze . . .

Or I would have stayed with her.

That unsettling thought had him stiffening.

“What happened to the man who took Molly?” Emma asked.

He glanced around the scene. So many cops. So many firefighters.

“Did he burn in the blaze?”

Jax shook his head. No, the end hadn’t been nearly that simple. Not for the freak they were looking for. “He’s still out there.” He stared at the fire. Burning so bright. “And he isn’t done.”

“How do you know that?” Emma’s soft voice followed him.

He focused on Sarah. “Because he doesn’t have what he wants, not yet.” You never will. I’ll make sure you don’t hurt her.

Another attack would come. They would be ready for it.

HOSPITALS. THEY ALWAYS reminded Sarah of death. Far too much of death. She’d stayed out at that scene with the detectives, answering their questions again and again. The fires had been extinguished. The area searched. But there had been no sign of the man who abducted Molly Guthrie.

Now, exhausted, body aching, voice too husky from the flames and the smoke, Sarah was pacing in the hospital waiting room. Dean and Emma had gone to the hospital earlier. They’d been calling to give her updates.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to update on.

Molly had gone into surgery. The guy’s attack had been brutal. The doctors had done their best to stitch up Molly and stabilize her, but she’d lost so much blood. She was unconscious now, and the doctors were monitoring her closely. She couldn’t talk to the cops or to Sarah about who’d hurt her. She couldn’t even open her eyes.

So the man who’d attacked Molly could be walking down the main streets in New Orleans. He could be planning another abduction . . .

And there’s nothing I can do to stop him.

“This is a win, Sarah.” She jumped at the voice and turned to see Victoria standing in the doorway. Her friend’s hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and the light glinted off Victoria’s glasses. “You found Molly. You saved her.”

Wearily, Sarah shook her head. “They don’t know if she’s even going to last the night.” And that made her heart ache. “She survived until the end, but, Viki . . .” Sarah crossed toward her, exhaling softly. “He did a number on her.” So many cuts. So much pain.

Victoria’s fingers closed around Sarah’s. “She made it out. You got her out.”

“No.” She couldn’t take credit. She hadn’t carried Molly through the fire and down all of those stairs. “Jax got her out. He did this.”

Victoria blinked. “What?”

“There’s more to him than just the stories you hear.”

“There’s always more,” Victoria allowed. “More good and more bad. That’s something you and I both know.”

Yes, they did. Because Victoria’s past was filled with blood and tragedy and death, too. Victoria had learned, early on, that love could be a mask for evil. A mask that hid true intent so very well.

“He knows my father,” Sarah confided to Victoria. “The man who took Molly . . . he’s connected to my dad.”

“How?” Victoria asked her.

“I don’t know.” And, since she didn’t know who the perp was . . . that meant only one other person could tell her. “But I will find out.” She’d already talked to Gabe. He was pulling the files on the families of Murphy’s victims—victims they knew about. But the cops had been able to pin only a few of the crimes on her father. Sarah knew there were other bodies out there.

If they can’t find the body, then there’s no crime. You have to be smarter than the cops. Don’t ever give them anything. Make them work for the job.

She swallowed as her father’s words replayed in her mind. “Once I know that Molly is safe, I’m going to see him.”

“Sarah, no.”

She hadn’t seen her father in . . . no, she didn’t want to think about the last time she’d seen him. “Maybe Molly can ID the guy. Maybe it won’t matter and I—I won’t have to see him.” Because her father terrified her.

Not because he was a monster. She knew that, with utter certainty.

A monster who would never hurt me. But, to her father, the rest of the world was more than fair game.

No, he scared her because . . . I hate him. She hated the man who’d murdered and tortured so brutally. A man who’d rightfully earned the moniker of Murphy the Monster.

But . . . I love him. She still remembered when he taught her to ride her bike. When he lifted her up to put the star on the Christmas tree. When he would take her camping and they would eat roasted marshmallows under the stars . . .

All before she’d learned the truth.

“I want to check on Wade,” Sarah said. “See how he’s doing.”

Victoria’s hands slid away from Sarah’s. “He’s getting frustrated. You know, typical Wade. The guy is more than ready to bust out of here, but the docs want to keep him for observation.”

Sarah and Victoria slipped from that waiting room and started walking down the hallway.

“I thought I’d have to tie him to the bed,” Victoria confided with a shake of her head. “And then—” Her words ended abruptly because she’d just seen the three big, tattooed men who were waiting around the corner. Men who immediately stood when they saw Sarah.

They were her guards. Guards that Jax had insisted follow her to the hospital.

She’d tried to tell him she was fine, but he hadn’t bought that. And with the way this case was going, Sarah hadn’t exactly minded a bit of protection.

Especially protection that looked so capable.

“Victoria, this is Carlos . . .”

He inclined his head. He smiled at Victoria, and his scar rippled.

“George.” Sarah pointed to the man with a buzz cut and a nose ring.

Victoria waved at him.

“And Nate.”

“Ma’am,” Nate said, his voice pretty much like that of a bear growling. His hands were loose at his sides, and the dark, golden tiger that curved around his left hand almost looked alive.

“Uh, hello,” Victoria said. “Nice tats.” Then she glanced at Sarah. “They’re all with you?”

“Well . . .”

“The boss wants Ms. Sarah to have an escort,” Carlos said. “Until he can get back with her. Her safety is our priority.”

Victoria frowned as she studied Sarah. “You’re not telling me everything.” Her voice rose a bit. “You’re keeping things from the team, aren’t you?”

Sarah bit her lip. “I told you, he’s connected with my father.”

“And?”

Sarah hesitated.

“You’ve got a group of bodyguards—three of them!—standing right here. What aren’t you telling me?”

Sarah cast a quick glance toward the men. She really hated to reveal all the shady bits of her past in front of them. “I’m his target,” she said quietly. “Wade was hurt because of me. Molly was taken because of me. Because the guy out there is furious with my father and he will use anyone, do anything, in order to get to me.”

Victoria took a step back. “Hurting you . . . it hurts Murphy.”

“I don’t think anything actually hurts him.” Despite what he’d said in the past. Knowing him as she did, Sarah often doubted if he actually loved her. Psychopaths were great when it came to mimicking emotions, but actually feeling them? No, that didn’t usually happen.

Her father operated without any guilt. He didn’t understand remorse. He’d fooled so many people—including Sarah—into thinking he was normal because he was so very good at manipulation. When you looked at Murphy Jacobs, you saw what he wanted you to see.

“But . . .” Sarah cleared her throat. “As far as the rest of the world is concerned, I’m his daughter. He’s supposed to care about me. So if you want to hurt him, you go after his family.”

“Oh, Sarah.” Victoria sighed. The overhead light glinted off her glasses. “What can I do?”

Stay away from me. She almost said those words. But she knew Victoria would take them the wrong way. Sarah wanted to put some distance between herself and the team because she needed to protect them. She needed to find the perp out there and stop him. If he wanted to get at Murphy so badly, then she would gladly throw those two in jail together.

Two killers, one cell. They could battle it out.

But that wasn’t the way the law was supposed to work. I’m not the law.

“We’re going to stop him,” Sarah said as she straightened her shoulders. Her guards were avidly watching. “We’ll find this guy and we won’t let him hurt anyone else. Molly will wake up, and she’ll help to ID him.”

Victoria’s face showed her worry. “Are you going to be all right?”

Sarah forced a smile. “With these guys?” She gestured to her silent guards. “How could I not be?” But the guards wouldn’t be around forever, she knew that. “Now, let’s go check on Wade . . . before he drives those nurses crazy.”

EDDIE GUTHRIE WAS strapped to a table. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten on that table. He didn’t know where the hell he was or what was happening.

He jerked hard, but the straps were too tight. They wouldn’t give.

“Easy . . .” It was a man’s voice. Right next to him. “We’re trying to help you.”

No, no, they weren’t. They were holding him down. He was struggling, screaming.

Hard hands grabbed him. “Hold him down! Secure him!”

Eddie’s mind was twisting chaos. He looked up and he saw a monster in front of him. A man with a mask over his face. He screamed again and twisted his body.

The table he was on . . . it fell. Eddie hit the floor with a crash.

“He needs to be sedated!”

Sedated . . . he struggled to think, but his mind felt so thick and confused. Sedated . . . did that mean they wanted to drug him?

“No!” Eddie roared. He lunged away from the floor, kicking and shoving at the straps.

“We need to know what the guy has been given!” That sounded like a woman’s voice. High and sharp and scared. “He was seizing before . . . hell, the way he’s looking at us, you’d think he was seeing—”

Monsters.

He swiped out and his fingers found . . . a knife? It was shiny like a knife. Sharp. But . . . it was something else. He knew the weapon had a name, but he couldn’t remember it. It was so hard to remember anything right then.

“He’s got a scalpel!” That shrieking woman was yelling again. “Get back!”

Footsteps scrambled back.

His eyes narrowed. He wanted to see them, but there were shadows darting across his vision. He swiped out, trying to knock those shadows away. They were like . . . like the dark ghosts he’d seen at a haunted house once. Fabric, hanging on a wire.

“Haunted house . . .” he whispered. He took another swing at the shadows, slicing with his weapon. Maybe he could cut them down.

“That guy is insane!” a man shouted. “He’s still tripping on something. Get the guards. Guards!”

More footsteps thudded into the room. That meant more people, right? He stopped swinging and narrowed his eyes as he tried to see them.

That was when Eddie saw the guns. Two big, hulking men had their guns aimed at him.

“Drop the scalpel, now!” one snarled.

He rubbed his forehead. He was sweating. It was so hot in there. So hot he couldn’t think. “Where am I?” He had memories pushing through his mind, trying to get past the thick fog that had been weighing him down. He remembered . . .

I was in a mask.

But, no, why would he have worn a mask?

Have to kill her. A life for a life.

His body shuddered. He took a step back.

He remembered . . .

I had a knife in my hand. I put the knife to the woman’ s throat.

He looked down and saw the glint of the light, shining off the weapon in his hand.

Did I kill someone?

His fingers tightened around that weapon.

He remembered . . . jail. A cell. A big, blond man saying that Molly . . .

“Where’s Molly?” Eddie asked, his voice rasping out. His heart was racing. His palms were sweating. Every breath he took seemed to burn his lungs. “Where’s my sister?”

“Drop the weapon!” was the only response he got.

But if he dropped it, would they fire at him? Were they going to kill him anyway? He glanced around wildly. He didn’t know these people. He’d never seen them before in his life. And his sister . . .

Molly had been . . . taken. That was what the blond man had told him.

Then Eddie had woken up, strapped down. They’d been about to drug him.

Did they take me, too? “I’m getting out of here!” He’d find his sister. He and Molly . . . they always stuck together. It was them against the world. Always had been. Through all the foster homes. Through the different schools. They’d been together.

Molly needs me. “Give me my sister!” His head was throbbing, as if a jackhammer were digging right behind his eyes.

“We have to subdue him!” It was the woman again. Yelling. Her voice made his head ache even more.

“Shut up!” he told her. “Shut up, shut up. Shut up!” Then he lunged toward her.

Thunder erupted. No, not thunder. It was more like fireworks. He and Molly liked to watch the fireworks on New Year’s Eve.

But he didn’t see any fireworks and his chest . . . hurt.

His knees sagged. He hit the floor. The knife—scalpel—fell from his fingers. “I . . . want Molly.”

More footsteps rushed into the room. He strained to keep his eyes open.

“What the hell?” The shocked cry came from the guy who’d just burst into the room. A guy wearing a suit, with a badge pinned to his belt. The guy’s green eyes glittered.

Wait . . . he knew that guy. He was a detective. West—

I can see them all now. So clearly.

The detective must be there to help him. Eddie tried to speak, but he only managed a groan.

Then the cop was in front of him. “Stay with me, kid,” he said.

“Mol . . . ly . . .”

“We found your sister. She’s in a hospital.” The guy’s head turned to the left. “You fucking hit him dead in the heart! Why? Why?”

“He was lunging with the scalpel! I told him to drop it, again and again, and he wouldn’t! He wouldn’t!”

Eddie felt so cold. Cold everywhere, except for his heart. It seemed to be burning right in his chest. “Mol . . . ly . . .”

“Your sister is safe, do you hear me?” The detective leaned in close to him. “We got her. She’s safe.”

That was good. “L-Love . . . Mol . . .”

His chest didn’t burn anymore.

His eyes closed.