CHAPTER TWELVE
“I’M GOING IN that interrogation.” Tucker glared toward the one-way mirror. “That little prick in there saw the killer. He took money from him to take a shot at me, and he’s going to tell me exactly who we are after.”
Dawn glanced between him and Anthony. The tension in the room was so thick it nearly suffocated her. The man in the ski mask had vanished, but the kid in the other room—the one with bleached-blond hair and too-pale skin who couldn’t seem to stop shaking—he’d been arrested.
The guy didn’t seem to get just how much trouble he was in. When you shot at an FBI agent, you didn’t get to walk away. But the blond kept asking when he’d be let go.
No time soon.
Malone was okay, thank God. The cops had found him at his home. He’d left his phone at his office after he’d gotten the news about Jinx, and he’d gone on a serious bender. The uniforms who’d gone to his house had said he’d smelled like a case of cheap beer.
“The FBI has rank on this one,” Tucker continued. “I want my run at him first, then you and your guys can have him.”
Bowen stood beside Dawn, watching the scene unfold. He’d been silent, just as she had, though she doubted it was for the same reason.
The guy got to me. He’d scared her in that little alleyway. Because the things he’d said...Jason had said them, too. How had the guy known that? Those words had been burned in her memory. Word for word.
Anthony inclined his head. “It’s your show, but I’m telling you now...that kid is as high as a freaking kite. His pupils are pinpricks, he can’t stop shaking and I caught the dumbass singing a few minutes ago. I don’t think he’s going to be able to give us jackshit.”
Dawn’s gaze slid back to the glass. That was her fear, too. She could see all the same telltale signs that Anthony had just noticed. She knew he was right.
Anthony headed toward her. He paused at her side, and his hand came up toward her face.
She stiffened. “Anthony?”
He almost touched her lip, but seemed to catch himself. “I’m sorry you were hurt.” And he shot a glare toward Tucker. “I was assured your safety was a priority.”
Over his shoulder, she saw Tucker’s jaw clench.
“I’m okay.” Her voice was flat. She wasn’t going to let any emotion slip out.
“It’s obvious he’s after her.” Finally, Bowen spoke. “He was trying to lure her out to him. We have to be on guard, no more mistakes.”
Tucker marched toward the door. “No more mistakes.” His words were clipped but she knew his anger was directed at himself. He’d barely stopped long enough to get his arm checked out. The bullet had clipped him, but he hadn’t seemed to care about the pain. An EMT had patched him up at the scene, and Tucker had been stoically silent the whole time. A few quick stitches, no anesthesia. And right back to work he went.
He opened the door and headed out. Anthony cast one last look at Dawn, and then he followed on Tucker’s heels.
Dawn’s breath eased out slowly as she moved for a better position in the observation room. She’d never seen that blond guy before in her life. His gaze kept darting around the room, not lingering for more than a few seconds on anything. And his fingers were tapping on the table. Tap. Tap. Tap.
“He is higher than a damn kite,” Bowen growled.
Yes, he was.
“You sure you’re all right?”
She bit her lip. She hadn’t told Tucker about the man’s words...mostly because the bastard had been talking about Tucker and it had just—
No. Fear had kept her silent. Stupid fear. “A few bruises, nothing more.” Her spine straightened. She wouldn’t give in to the terror again. She wouldn’t.
She saw the door to the interrogation room open. Tucker stepped inside, with Anthony right at his heels. The blond took one look at them, and terror flashed on his face. He jumped to his feet, throwing out his hands.
“Stay the hell away from me, man!” Spittle flew from his mouth. “Get away!”
Tucker raised a brow. “Calm down.”
But the blond wasn’t calming down. At Tucker’s voice, he gave a yell and he...he launched right at Tucker.
Tucker just stood there, letting the guy come at him. At the last moment, he twisted his body so that the blond missed him totally. Then Tucker spun around and grabbed the kid’s arms, jerking him back. Tucker wrapped one hand around the blond’s throat and held him, effortlessly. “That’s the second time you’ve attacked a federal agent, buddy. You must really want to spend the rest of your life in a cell.” He let him go, putting his hands on his hips as he studied the younger fellow.
Anthony was silent as he shut the door to the interrogation room and watched the other men.
“No!” the blond yelled. “This isn’t happening.” He yanked up his hands and pressed his fingers to his eyes. He nearly jabbed his fingertips into his eye sockets. “Just scaring you. Just scaring you!”
“Who wanted you to scare him?” Anthony asked. His voice was calm and cool. Easy. “Tell me, and we can help you out.”
The blond stilled.
“We know your name, Rowan,” Anthony continued. “Rowan Jacobs. You came up in our database. Seems you’ve had a few brushes with the law. Some small-time thefts, a drug possession...but you were a kid back then. According to the files I have, you turned eighteen two months ago.” He whistled. “That means trouble for you, Rowan. Big trouble.”
Rowan shook his head. “No. No!”
Tucker stepped toward him. “You said someone paid you. That’s the man I want, Rowan. Tell me what he looked like. Talk to me, and I’ll help you.”
Rowan retreated until his back was pressed to the one-way glass.
“That kid is terrified,” Bowen murmured.
Dawn couldn’t take her gaze off the scene before her.
“B-blue eyes,” Rowan stuttered suddenly. “Big, over six feet. Strong.” His words came in rapid fire succession. “Dark hair.”
Tucker’s stare hardened on him. “Going to need a whole hell of a lot more than that, kid. You just described—”
“Him,” Bowen said as his voice sharpened. “The kid’s half-ass description could be Tucker.”
“—about a million people,” Tucker snapped at the same time. “So you’re going to have to get real specific, real quick—”
Rowan whirled to face the mirror. “He sees you.”
He was staring straight at Dawn.
“He sees you,” he said again and Rowan slammed his head into the mirror. Once, twice, and the mirror cracked beneath the impact of his blows. Dawn let out a horrified gasp as she saw the blood trickling over the glass. Blood poured down Rowan’s face, but he pulled back, seemingly about to slam his head forward once more.
“Stop!” Dawn yelled.
Tucker had leaped forward. He grabbed Rowan.
“Medic!” Anthony was yelling. He’d yanked open the door to the interrogation room. “We need a medic in here!”
Dawn and Bowen ran out of the observation room. They rushed inside the interrogation room, crowding close to Tucker.
The kid was unconscious, the rough trembles of his body stilled. He barely seemed to be breathing. Blood poured from the gashes in his forehead.
“What in the fuck was that?” Bowen bent next to the fallen man.
Tucker looked up at Dawn. She stood there, heart racing, as more uniformed officers filled the room.
He sees you.
* * *
TUCKER EASED OUT a low breath and opened the door at the police station. The door led to a small conference room—and to Dawn. She stood up when he entered the room, worry flashing on her face.
Get your shit together, man. Do it now.
“We knew he was high... The kid is messed up. Rowan is being kept under medical supervision now.” Because the guy had split his head wide-open. “We’re not going to get anything from him for a while.”
He moved closer to her. He could see the cut on her lower lip. The bruise on her cheek. The scrapes on her hands. Those marks pissed him off. They’d happened on his watch. He should have—
“I didn’t tell you everything.”
He stopped in front of her.
Her long lashes lifted and her gaze locked with his.
“I didn’t tell you all the things he...he said to me in the alley.”
He had to touch her. Carefully, the back of his hand slid over her cheek. That bruise didn’t belong there. She should never have been—
Dawn caught his hand. “I didn’t tell you everything that Jason said back then, either, and I...I didn’t tell you everything that the man in the ski mask said today.”
Shock pulsed through him.
“I didn’t tell anyone all of the things that Jason said. No, no, that’s not true. I told my psychiatrist.” She licked her lips. “Just him. No one else. I was too afraid to tell the cops. I didn’t...I didn’t want them to look at you with suspicion.”
He could only shake his head.
“Do you remember how I hid from you in those woods?” She blinked quickly and inhaled. “You shot Jason and I hid. You kept calling to me, but I didn’t come out right away.”
And he’d been fucking terrified. Yes, he remembered. As if he could ever forget.
“Jason said you were coming to the cabin to kill me. That you’d been using me all along.”
Every muscle in his body tensed. Tucker shook his head, denying what she was saying. Denying that he’d ever hurt her.
“He said he was keeping me alive so that you could get there and join the fun. That you’d f-fucked me—” she tripped over that word “—and now you were going to kill me.”
He stared at her as pain cut into his heart. “That’s why you ran from me when I first got there.” Why she’d fallen into the water.
“Jason said he wasn’t acting alone. He said the press should call the two of you Icemen, not Iceman.” She wet her lips. “He said he was working with someone...and that someone was you.”
“No.” The word came out too hard, too rough. But he needed her to understand. “It wasn’t me. He was lying to you. He wanted to hurt you.” And me. “I was never involved, baby, I swear it.”
Her breath came in quick pants. “The man in the ski mask...he said the same thing to me. The words...they were Jason’s words. ‘I’m going to teach you to like pain.’”
Those were words burned into Tucker’s mind. Not because they were Jason’s. But because they’d been their father’s words.
I’ll make you sorry pieces of shit like the pain. You’ll stop screaming soon enough.
He had to swallow the lump in his throat.
“The man in the ski mask...he said he was waiting for you, so the fun could start.”
Tucker didn’t blink. He didn’t move at all. The rage inside of him was so strong he was afraid if he moved, his control would shatter.
This case is wrecking me. “No.” One word. That was all he could manage.
“Then the kid described someone who could be you.” She lifted her hands and pressed them to his chest. “You look like Jason. Jason’s body wasn’t found. The words were the same, and I swear...even the voice sounded the same to me. He’s back. I think Jason is back.” Her voice broke.
A sharp knock sounded on the door.
“Agent Frost?” He recognized Samantha’s voice. “We need to talk.”
“I wasn’t the only one holding back secrets.” He said the words softly to Dawn.
“I didn’t want the cops looking at you with suspicion. You’d been through enough. We both had.”
“I was never working with him.” He might have been screwed up, he might have enjoyed a taste for too much darkness, but he’d never turned into a cold-blooded killer. He would never hurt an innocent.
“Frost!” Samantha’s voice was sharper. “I need you and Dawn in the meeting room, now.” Her heels tapped smartly away from the door.
Tucker stepped away from Dawn. Stepped away when he wanted to pull her close. To wrap his arms around her and not let go.
But they were at the police station. His boss waited. And the case...the case came first.
Only she is the case. She’s the priority.
He turned away from her and opened the door. He held it open while Dawn walked ahead of him. Their group had taken over the big meeting space at the end of the hall, and when he went inside, he saw the tactical board that the unit had prepared.
The victims’ pictures were on that board. Pictures of them when they were alive, happy, and then pictures of them when the killer had finished with them.
“The reporters have this story.” Samantha stood near the board. Macey and Bowen were seated at the table. No one else was in the room. She inclined her head toward Dawn. “And they have your past. They know who you are. They’ve made the connection. The headlines running today are that the Iceman is back. He’s killing again.”
“He’s dead,” Tucker gritted. How many times would he have to say it? He blew out a breath and paced toward the tactical board. “It’s not Jason we have to worry about. This killer... I think he’s far more dangerous than Jason ever was.” And that was saying one hell of a lot. “Jason had a certain victim type.”
“Attractive young women,” Bowen added. “College coeds.”
Tucker’s gaze slid to Dawn. She hadn’t taken a seat. She stood just inside the doorway, watching them.
“Yes.” He didn’t move his gaze off her. “And he killed them in a ritualistic manner. He used his knife to cut them, marking them. Never slicing deep enough to kill. Just enough that his brand would always be on their skin.”
She wasn’t looking away from him.
“He put his victims in the freezer. Not because that was another form of torture, but because he wanted to keep the victims with him. To stop time. No decomposition, no destruction. He would literally freeze the women when they were his. He meant for them to stay that way, forever.” He pointed to the board, to the first victim, Heather Hartley. “This killer isn’t focused on owning his victims. He’s sending a message instead. I believe he called in the tip about the body because he didn’t want time to be wasted. He wanted the cops to find the victim as soon as possible. He wanted us down here.” No, that wasn’t exactly true. His gaze slid to Samantha. “He wanted me down here. He wanted me here and he knew I’d come as soon as I heard about the type of kill that had been discovered.”
There had been no option for him.
“He approached his second victim, Jinx Donahue, because of her tie to Dawn. He wanted access to Dawn’s home, and he wanted to learn as much information about her as he could.” His gaze cut to Jinx’s picture. “Then he eliminated her.”
“I don’t remember seeing any men with Jinx,” Dawn said softly. “She never brought anyone home, not that I saw. She never introduced me to anyone—”
“That would have been deliberate,” Macey cut in. “He would have made sure that you never crossed paths. Not until he was ready.”
“It’s a trap.” Tucker hated saying the truth. “Everything he’s done...it’s been to close his web around you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And me. I’m just as much a part of this as you are. The guy wants me involved. He wanted me here, and he has me.” Now he moved toward the photo of Red. “Jason Frost would never have killed this way. Red wasn’t his victim type. The perp we’re after—he used a swift, brutal method to kill. He was eliminating a witness, nothing more, nothing less.”
Bowen’s fingers flattened on the tabletop. “In that case, we need to make sure our cop friends are keeping extra eyes on Rowan Jacobs. I would hate for another witness to vanish.”
“It’s doubtful Rowan will tell us anything,” Samantha said as her stare drifted over the tactical board. “When the drugs are out of his system, odds are high the guy will remember nothing. And as far as the current information that kid gave us—” her gaze cut to Tucker “—the description fits you and it fits Jason Frost.”
“And too many other people wandering the streets of New Orleans,” Bowen groused. “Useless.”
So far, yes, it was.
“Bowen.” Samantha turned toward him. “I want you in Baton Rouge today. Meet with Heather’s family. Her friends there. Learn everything that you possibly can about her.”
He nodded.
“Macey...” Samantha’s attention shifted to her. “You’re still working with the coroner?”
Macey’s gaze dipped toward Dawn. “It’s...a slow process with Jinx.”
He saw Dawn pale. Dammit.
“Keep us updated,” Samantha ordered. “I’m also waiting to hear back on the analysis our unit is doing on the gloves Dawn recovered. Maybe the perp was sloppy. Maybe we’ll get a hit from the DNA database—something that can tell us who this guy is.”
Then her attention shifted to Dawn.
“I can help,” Dawn said as she stepped forward. “I need to help.”
“I know you do.” Samantha’s voice was gentle. “But he tried to attack you today. He’s gunning for you. Every moment that you are out in the open, that’s a moment that you’re at risk.”
Dawn’s chin lifted. “And every moment that I hide...that could be a moment when he’s looking to make someone else a pawn in this sick game he’s playing. You said he wanted me.” She looked at Tucker. “You both said that. So what do you expect him to do? I’m not a profiler, but I’ll tell you what I expect... I expect for him to keep hurting others as he tries to get to me.” She exhaled on a ragged breath. “And I can’t carry more guilt. I won’t.”
Samantha glanced at Tucker. Her eyes had gone dark and he knew she was pondering the situation. “I’d like a private word with you, Tucker,” she murmured.
He nodded grimly. The others filed out, but Dawn lingered. Her gaze flickered between Samantha and Tucker. “As I’ve already told Tucker, I’m not going to be shoved to the side. I have contacts in this town—I’m the one who got you Red’s location, remember that? Not using me would be a huge mistake, and I think you’re both smarter than that.” She turned on her heel and marched out.
The door closed quietly behind her.
He felt the weight of Samantha’s stare on him. Rolling back his shoulders, he glanced her way.
“She’s right,” Samantha murmured. “Her ties in this city could be an asset to us.”
“Anthony Deveraux has ties. His partner, Torez, has ties. Every damn cop in this PD has ties we can use.”
Her head inclined toward him. “True, but the killer is after her...and that means he’ll be focusing on the people close to her. People that ‘every damn cop’ won’t know.”
His jaw locked. “I want her safe,” he gritted.
“Because your emotions are involved. That’s the problem. And I worry it’s too much of a problem.” Samantha folded her arms across her chest and peered straight at him. “Blake Gamble and I don’t work cases together any longer.”
He knew Blake. One fine FBI agent—and Samantha’s lover.
“We don’t work them together because we’re too connected. Our emotions can get in the way. Instead of placing priority on victims...” Her lips twisted. “When we’re together, we worry too much about each other’s safety. That makes us a liability in the field.”
“You think I’m a liability?”
“That’s what I’m asking. I’m asking you—are your emotions controlled when you’re around Dawn Alexander?”
No. He’d already crossed a line and slept with her—and he’d do it again if he had the chance. “She matters.”
Samantha’s gaze turned assessing. “Matters to the extent that you won’t be able to do your job?”
“She is the job.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “And Dawn isn’t going to stay on the sidelines. Even if we turn her over to the PD for protection, she’s going to be determined to get involved in this investigation. It’s better if she stays with us, works with us... That way, I can keep an eye on her.”
“It’s a slippery slope,” Samantha warned him. “The longer you’re with her, the deeper your connection to her may become. I knew this was a risk when you came down here. But I thought since you hadn’t seen her in so long that the ties were gone.”
He wasn’t sure his ties to Dawn would ever be gone.
“You’re a target, too. I agree one hundred percent with your assessment there. This perp wanted you down here—he wants you in his crosshairs. He sees both you and Dawn as his targets.”
The guy had been smarter than Tucker anticipated that day—he’d deliberately divided them, trying to take Dawn away.
“This killer has already proved he won’t hesitate to kill a man. Dawn may not be the next target—you very well could be. If this guy was working with Jason Frost, then his anger could be more focused on you. Potentially, Dawn could just be a means to an end.”
Fuck, he didn’t like where this was going...
“You’re a good profiler, Tucker, so I’m sure you’ve considered the fact that this man...may want to hurt Dawn simply as a way of getting to you.”
He swallowed. “That was why Jason targeted her.”
Sympathy flashed on her face. “I know.”
My fault. If she hadn’t been with me, she would have been safe.
“I know that’s why Jason went after her, and none of us can afford to overlook the possibility that this killer is doing the same thing. His rage could be more targeted on you than her. After all, you’re the man who pulled the trigger. You are the one who killed the Iceman.” Her gaze was unflinching. “This guy could want to destroy you and Dawn could be the means to that end.”
I won’t let it happen again. She won’t be hurt because of me.
“You and Dawn are the ones he’s after. So you know what I need you to do, Tucker?”
He waited. If she told him to stay away from Dawn...
Her face tensed. “Find the bastard before he has a chance to hurt anyone else. Use Dawn and her connections. Use everything that you both know. And find him.”
* * *
“YOU ALL RIGHT?”
Dawn glanced up at the slightly hesitant question and found Detective Torez shuffling toward her. His dark head was bent forward and she could see the concern etched on his face.
“Just a few scratches.” She offered him a wane smile. “Would have been a whole lot better if we’d caught the bastard.”
He grunted. “I’m...sorry about Jinx.”
She had to swallow twice before she could reply. “Thank you. I’m sorry, too.” Sorry. Angry. Hurt.
He sat beside her on the little bench just outside the meeting room. Bowen stood a few feet away, watching them. Someone always seemed to be watching her these days.
“Cutting you out would be a mistake on their part.” Torez’s voice was low. “I think so, Anthony thinks so, hell, the whole department thinks so. You get shit done—we’ve seen it before. And if some guy is gunning for you, then I think you deserve the chance to hunt him.”
Her lips twisted. “I think so, too.”
Torez leaned closer to her. “We checked Jinx’s phone. There were other pictures on there. Pictures of your place. Pictures of the roses on your pillow.”
Her stomach clenched.
“There were pictures of you from the crime scene yesterday.”
Her gaze flew up to his.
“He was there, in that mass of reporters that gathered outside your home. He was in the crowd and he was snapping pictures of you. You and Tucker Frost.”
He left that phone deliberately. He wanted me to know that he’d been there, all along.
“We didn’t recover any prints from the phone. And Jinx’s house—hell, he must have wiped that place down. This guy knows how to cover his tracks.”
“The gloves,” she whispered. “He left the gloves at the warehouse. Maybe he wasn’t as careful there.”
His gaze dipped to the closed meeting room door. “Hope so. The FBI has those—they’re supposed to have the report back on them soon.” He focused on her once more. “The roses in your room led us nowhere. They are sold everywhere down here—kids on the street sell them. Vendors in the park. Uniforms talked to everyone they could find, but we aren’t getting a hit on the guy. Probably paid cash and walked away.”
Because he was smart. No paper trail.
“Anthony’s worried about you.” His voice went lower. “He doesn’t exactly trust your FBI buddy, Frost.”
She wet her lips. “Tucker knows killers.”
“Yeah, that’s the part that worries Anthony. Sometimes blood tells, you know? Frost’s brother was a psychopath. Cold as fucking ice, just like everyone says.”
The door to the meeting room opened. Tucker stood there, staring at her. His blue eyes were so bright.
And cold. No emotion showed in them.
Cold as fucking ice.
“Don’t forget that you have plenty of friends at the PD,” Torez murmured. “And we’ll have your back, always.” He stood up and walked away.
She rose, too. Slowly.
Tucker and Samantha came toward her. Samantha delicately cleared her throat and said, “Agent Frost is going to speak with your friends Jones and Malone today. Since you know those individuals so well, I want you to accompany him during the questioning.”
Damn straight.
Samantha stepped closer to her. “I’ve been where you are.” Her voice was low. “I know what it’s like to be in the crosshairs of a killer. And when that happened to me, I couldn’t just stand back and let others do the hunting. You’re not a typical civilian—I’ve read your files and I know the type of training you’ve had. The type of work that you’ve done.”
Hope tightened in Dawn’s chest.
“Agent Frost is going to stay with you. You will have a guard with you until we learn more, but you will be working with us. So be careful out there. You’re hunting, but so is the killer.”
* * *
“I DIDN’T CALL anyone else.” Jones twisted his apron as he stared at Dawn and Tucker. “Just you. Just like you said. One of my regulars came in because he was hungry and I asked him about Red. He gave me the tip that he was at the motel, and I called you. That’s all.” He blew out a rough breath. “Then I saw the news this morning about the body at that motel, and I knew it was Red. Damn it.”
Dawn put her hand on his and squeezed.
“My girl has too many dead on her table now.” His lips twisted. “I wanted to help find the killer. I didn’t want...I didn’t want this.”
“No one did,” Tucker said quietly.
“The man who gave you the tip,” Dawn prompted. “Your regular. What was his name? Where can we find him?”
“Young kid,” Jones muttered, letting go of his apron. “Blond guy, looks barely legal. He’s been on and off drugs for so long. I keep telling him to get clean, but...”
She stiffened. “Rowan?” That had been the boy’s name.
Jones’s gaze lit up. “Yeah, yeah, that’s it. He came by, desperate for food...and when I questioned him, the guy knew where Red was staying. Said he’d seen him go in the place.”
She shared a long look with Tucker, then she squeezed Jones’s hand once more. “Thank you.”
Dawn didn’t speak again, not until she and Tucker were away from the restaurant and back inside his rented SUV.
“Rowan is the link,” she said, voice excited. “We’ve got to get him to tell us more.”
Tucker cranked the vehicle. “Yeah, but he has to make fucking sense when he talks to us.”
“He knows who the killer is.” She was certain of this.
He drove them through the city. “According to him...I could be the killer. I look just like the bastard he described.” He gave a bitter laugh. “That’s a problem I have. Looking like a killer.”
She glanced down at her hands and saw they’d twisted in her lap.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Tucker exhaled slowly. “Malone is at Voodoo Tats. The crime scene guys finished up there, and I want to have another look around.” He turned at the light. “After we talk to him, maybe we can see Rowan again. Provided the guy isn’t still trying to smash his own brains out.”
He sees you. “I think he knows the killer was watching me.”
“Rowan could have been spouting pure bullshit.”
“Or he could have been telling us the exact truth.” Being high didn’t mean he was wrong. “Is there...is there a way I could talk to him?”
He made another turn. “Considering how violent he got during the last little chat, do you think that’s a good idea?”
“I think he’s the one with the most information. The one that we need right now.” She reached out and touched his hand as he gripped the steering wheel. “You would be with me.”
He stopped at the corner. Stared at her hand. “I didn’t do such a good job of looking out for you last time.” They were just down the street from Voodoo Tats. “Maybe Bowen should be the one watching you. Maybe Samantha is right... I’m too close to you.”
“I want you close.”
His gaze jerked up to hers.
“I like you close.” A hushed admission. “I don’t know Bowen. I don’t know Macey. I don’t know any of the others. You proved to me before that I could count on you.” He’d made the ultimate sacrifice for her. “I want you close,” she said again.
His eyes glittered. “And the secrets?”
“We have to stop them. Both of us. It’s time.” Past time. If there was any hope of a future for them, they had to face their past—every bit of it. No more secrets. No lies. No ghosts.
His hand lifted and curled under her chin. “If that’s the case, then maybe I should enjoy this while I can.”
“Tucker?”
He leaned toward her and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. So very careful. “You may not want me near you much longer.”
Not true. Hadn’t he heard her? He was the only agent that she felt comfortable with.
His forehead rested against hers. “It scared the shit out of me when I heard that gunshot. I couldn’t get back to you fast enough.”
“I’m okay.” Now she was the one to press a soft kiss to his stubbled cheek.
“I keep thinking...what if I’d gotten back to that alley and you’d been gone? What if he’d taken you?” His head lifted as he pulled away from her. “Or what if you’d been dead when I got back?”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t.”
“Samantha said she worried my control weakens when I’m around you.”
Her lips parted.
“She’s wrong, though. It doesn’t weaken.”
His face had gone so hard.
“It fucking shatters.”