CHAPTER TWO
SHE STOOD IN front of the motel room door. Door number seven at a small, no-tell-motel-type place. The paint on the door was chipped. The light to her right kept flickering, and Macey knew she should turn around and walk away. Her room was right next door. She was in room number eight. She should go back inside number eight, shut her door and stay in for the night. That was what she should do.
But Macey knew that she wasn’t going to leave. She couldn’t. So she lifted her hand and she banged against that door. Lucky seven. As if anything had been lucky. The night air was brisk, sending a chill over her skin as she waited, and a moment later—
The door opened. Bowen stood there, his hair slightly mussed and a five o’clock shadow on his jaw. “Macey? Has something happened?” His dark gaze darted over her shoulder. “Did the sheriff learn anything new?”
“Not yet.” She’d been at the crime scene for hours, unable to tear herself away, and Bowen had been right with her. They’d made sure there were no slipups at the scene. The Doctor was dead, apparently killed within the past twelve hours judging by the body’s lividity. His victims finally had justice.
So why doesn’t it feel that way?
“May I come in?” she asked when Bowen continued to stand in the doorway.
He blinked and stepped back. “Right, yes, of course.” He motioned for her to come into his room. Like the room next door, her room, the place was small but clean. Clean enough, anyway. Two double beds were in the motel room, and a nightstand was situated between them.
She stared at the nearest bed for a moment.
“Uh, Macey? You all right?”
No, I am far from all right. “I thought we’d put him in jail. I thought we’d catch him and we’d lock him up. He’d go to court, the judge would find him guilty and Daniel would never hurt anyone again.” Because he’d be locked away for the rest of his life. Caged.
Silence. The kind that stretched too long.
She looked back over her shoulder and found Bowen’s dark gaze on her. His blond hair was tousled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it and faint stubble covered his hard jaw.
“He will never hurt anyone again,” Bowen said.
Because the dead couldn’t hurt anyone. Because someone had killed the killer. Her lips wanted to tremble, so she pressed them together. Her stomach was in knots. It had been that way ever since she walked into that bloodstained back room of the cabin. “This isn’t the way I wanted it to end.”
He just stared at her. No judgment on his face.
“It isn’t.”
Bowen took a step toward her. “You don’t have to explain or justify to anyone.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Sure as hell not to me.”
Because Bowen was the man who had killed a serial murderer...long before Bowen had joined the FBI. He’d hunted down the killer himself when local law enforcement wouldn’t help him. When they wouldn’t believe him. He’d found the evidence. He’d found the killer.
And in the end, he’d had to kill that man in order to survive.
Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Am I supposed to be glad that he’s dead?” It wasn’t the FBI agent talking. That wasn’t who she was right then.
I don’t know who I am.
“Am I supposed to be happy that someone found Daniel Haddox and gave him the same pain that Haddox gave to his victims? Is that supposed to make me feel good?”
Bowen was leaning against the wooden motel room door. “I don’t think you’re supposed to feel any way. You just feel—Mace, you feel any way you want. You’re entitled. You were the guy’s victim.”
Her shoulders stiffened at that one word. Victim. She’d fought hard to stop being a victim. She’d joined the FBI so she would never be a victim. She’d be the one who hunted the killers. The one who brought justice. Not a victim. Never that again.
“He hurt you. He nearly killed you. If you want to be glad, then, damn it, be glad. Be—”
She found herself stumbling toward him. The control she prided herself on was in tatters. No, it had been sliced apart.
Only, not with his scalpel this time.
“Macey?”
She put her hands on his chest. “I need it to stop.”
A faint furrow appeared between his brows. “What? What do you want to stop? Tell me, and I’ll fix it.”
She licked her lips. “I need the pain to stop.”
His eyes widened. “Mace...”
“Because it’s been eating at me ever since I was on his table.” A truth she hadn’t shared with anyone else, not even the FBI shrink that her team had to see every now and then to make sure they stayed psychologically healthy while they tackled their cases. When you worked day in and day out with serials, the pressure could get to you. Everyone had to go in for psych evaluations. Only, maybe she didn’t share how she really felt during those visits.
I feel more than pressure. I feel pain. It’s what I always feel. And I need it to stop. “I thought it would end when we caught him. Closure, right? Isn’t that how it works? I catch the man who hurt me, who killed so many others, and then the pain goes away because he is locked away.” No longer hunting in the dark.
Bowen’s hands rose and curled around her shoulders. She liked his touch. It was warm and she felt so cold. But then, she always felt warmer when she was around Bowen. Warmer, safer.
“He’s dead,” she whispered. “But the pain isn’t going away.” And Macey felt a tear slide down her cheek. “Why won’t it go away?”
His face hardened. “Macey...”
“Make it go away.” She shouldn’t be saying these things to him. She shouldn’t be in his room. She shouldn’t be near him, but...
Bowen wants me. I’ve seen it before. In his eyes. In the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not watching him. When he thinks no one is watching. He’d never said anything wrong to her. Not a misplaced word. Never done anything wrong. But...she’d sensed the awareness between them. The attraction.
She’d ignored it. Or tried to. Maybe he’d slipped into her dreams some nights. His dark eyes and his strong hands. His sexy mouth. But those had just been dreams. Dreams that worked their way past the nightmares she had so often.
I thought the nightmares would stop when we finally caught Daniel. The nightmares and pain. But the pain Macey felt was still just as strong as ever.
Will the nightmares be just as strong, too? Because maybe she wasn’t going to ever get over the attack. She’d wanted to be strong, but she just felt so twisted on the inside.
He’s dead. He’s dead. And when I first saw the body...the first thing I thought was...
He’d gotten what he deserved.
Pain twisted within her even more. What am I becoming? “Make it go away,” Macey said again. She tightened her hold on Bowen’s shoulders and pushed onto her tiptoes. “Please.”
His lips parted as if he would speak, but she didn’t give him the chance. Macey pressed her lips to his. Her kiss wasn’t seductive or teasing. It was desperate. She was desperate. And he—
His hands tightened on her shoulders and he slowly pushed her back.
Oh. My. God. The pain in her chest just got worse.
His eyes seemed to have gone even darker as he stared at her. “What are you doing?”
She’d thought she was kissing him. Her cheeks burned.
“Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?” His hold on her shoulders didn’t ease. If anything, his grip grew harder as a muscle jerked along his jaw. “You don’t want to play with me.”
She wasn’t playing. And she wasn’t going to hold back. She couldn’t, not then. Macey was far too raw for any sort of games. “Do you want me?”
He sucked in a sharp breath.
“Because I think you do.” She was putting it all out there. Macey couldn’t think about consequences in that moment. She didn’t want to think of them. Pain seemed to be eating her up from the inside out, and she wanted to escape that pain.
Pleasure—pleasure would combat pain. But she wasn’t going out and hooking up with some random stranger. She couldn’t. Not with her past. She was always too afraid of the secrets others might be keeping. Secrets meant danger.
Bowen wasn’t some stranger. Bowen. She trusted him. He was her partner. Her friend. And that night, she wanted him to be more.
“Yes.” He seemed to hiss the word. “I fucking want you.” His voice had never sounded so rough to her before. Her heart thudded in her chest. “But I’ve been doing a damn fine job of keeping my hands off you.”
Yes, he had. Never a wrong touch. Never a wrong word. “They aren’t off me now,” she whispered.
His eyes narrowed. “Macey, you are playing with fire.”
Only because she wanted to get burned. “I don’t want your hands off me. I want them all over me. I want you.” There. She’d done it. Laid her pride bare to him. He’d pushed her away when she kissed him, so maybe she should have just kept her mouth shut, but Macey wasn’t herself that night. She felt as if she’d shattered into a million pieces and then been put together all wrong. Everything was wrong and she just needed the world to stop spinning so wildly, for just a few moments. To just stop.
“Be careful what you say.”
“I’m always careful. Every moment of every single day.” Even before her attack, she’d been so careful. The studious college coed. The diligent MD student. The hardworking resident. She’d been the good girl all her life, and what had it gotten her?
Scars. Pain.
I came back together wrong.
“I don’t want to be careful tonight.” Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he didn’t understand—“Tonight,” Macey blurted. “That’s all I want.” She wasn’t looking for some kind of a forever promise. She didn’t want one. She needed to feel something other than pain. Needed to see something other than Daniel’s dead body.
Right then, she was staring into Bowen’s eyes. And she could see, she could see—
He wants me.
“Spell it out for me, Mace,” he said. “Tell me exactly what you want tonight.”
“I want you.” She licked her lips. His gaze immediately dropped to her mouth and she swore the darkness of his stare heated. “I want you to make l—have sex.” She stumbled over the words. “With me.” They wouldn’t be making love. Love didn’t enter into the equation.
“We’re partners. The FBI won’t let us cross that line,” Bowen said. “You know—”
“We’re not dating, Bowen. And the FBI brass isn’t here.” Yes, she was breaking rules. Screw it. “I want to be with you. But if you want me to go—” Don’t, don’t, don’t.
He didn’t speak. She wouldn’t fall apart. Her chin lifted and she pulled away from him, stepping back. “I see.” He was blocking the door. Another problem. How could she make her not-so-graceful exit when he was in the way? “Will you please move?”
His face was so tight and hard. Angry. But he stepped to the side. She reached for the door. Opened it—
Only to have Bowen’s hand fly up and slam that door shut again. Suddenly, he was right behind her, his body surrounding hers. His hand was pressed to the door just above hers, and his face was bent beside hers. “Remember, when this is over—” his words were a rumble “—you came to me. You asked for me.”
Slowly, but with her heart racing so fast and hard she feared he could hear the frantic beat, Macey turned to face Bowen. He’d trapped her between the door and the burning heat of his body. “I know exactly what I’m asking for.” If he thought she’d regret this in the morning, he was wrong.
But Bowen shook his head. “Not what, Mace.” Mace. For some reason, when he said her nickname—the nickname that only he used—her breath stuttered a bit. “Who. Remember who you asked for. Who you wanted.” His eyes never left hers. “You wanted me. You came to me.”
He wasn’t going to let her leave. She saw that, felt it with utter certainty. She would have smiled but she was having trouble breathing because, yes, this was going to happen. She’d escape her pain for a bit and then she’d wake up tomorrow and the world would be back to its tainted self.
But that was tomorrow.
For the night...
“If I kiss you again, will you push me away?” Macey asked him.
“I’ll never let you get the fuck away.”
Maybe his words should have scared her. But they didn’t. He didn’t mean those words. They were only talking about the night. Nothing more than that. Just hours in the dark.
“Open your mouth for me,” he told her. “Let me in this time.”
Then he was the one to kiss her. And she made sure her lips were parted. His tongue swept inside her mouth and there was nothing hesitant about his kiss. It was hot. It was rough. It was consuming. And it was exactly what she wanted.
She gave herself fully to his kiss, holding nothing back. With her eyes closed, with her body pressed to his and her mouth desperate on his, she didn’t see her past. She didn’t see anything at all. Macey just felt. And she liked how she was feeling.
His hands were sliding down her back. Pressing to the curve of her hips, dragging her even closer to him. His arousal thrust toward her, heavy and thick, and there was no doubt that he wanted her. She hadn’t been wrong about him. Her instincts had been dead-on. He’d felt the attraction, just as she had. But he’d been following the rules.
Screw the rules. For that night, anyway. They could go back to playing things safe the next day. Dawn would bring safety. For the darkness, though, in the darkness, safety was the last thing she wanted.
Her clothes were in the way. His were in the way. She wanted to be skin to skin with him. Wanted to feel every single inch of his body against hers. But...
Scars. She always worked so hard to cover her arms.
She pulled away from him and her lashes lifted as she stared into Bowen’s eyes.
“Changing your mind?” Bowen growled. “Better do it now—”
Macey shook her head. No way was she changing her mind. Then, still staring at him, she began to unbutton her blouse. His gaze fell to her chest and then his eyes narrowed. When the shirt hit the floor, he’d see her scars. But...this was Bowen. She trusted him.
Wasn’t that why she was there? Because she knew she could trust this one man?
She let the shirt fall, and, by habit, she started to curl her arms inward, but Bowen had stepped forward. He caught her wrists. Held them ever so carefully in his grip. His thumbs feathered over her pulse points. “You are so fucking beautiful.”
“And you have on too many clothes,” she whispered back.
He laughed. The sound was deep and rumbling and she realized that she hadn’t really heard him laugh much. With their job, there wasn’t ever much to laugh about but...he had a nice laugh. It made little butterflies swirl inside of her.
“That’s an easy problem to solve.” Once more, his thumbs slid along her wrists, but then he freed her, and he went to work on his clothes. As she watched, he tore off his shirt and dropped it to the floor. He kicked off his shoes and ditched his socks, and his pants followed as they slid to the floor. She didn’t look away. Didn’t pretend not to be avidly curious about his body. And what a body it was. Strong and tan. Sexy-as-hell abs. Powerful thighs and—
He pushed down his boxers.
She released a quick breath. He was exactly what she wanted. She reached for his cock, but, once more, his hand curled around her wrist.
“Sweetheart, I’ve been dreaming about you far too long. You touch me like that, and what control I have will be shot straight to hell.”
Macey licked her lips and swore she tasted him. “That’s okay. You don’t need to maintain control with me.”
But he shook his head. “You’re the one person I need it with the most.”
No, he was—
He used his grip to pull her closer. Right before his lips took hers, he said, “I’m going to put my mouth on every single inch of you.”
A shiver slid over her. “Promises, promises...”
“Exactly,” he told her, and then he took her mouth once more.
* * *
MACEY NIGHT AND Bowen Murphy had arrived too late. As soon as the victim had turned up in the FBI’s computer system, he’d known that Macey would make the connection to Daniel Haddox. And, just as he’d anticipated, she’d hauled ass getting up to Hiddlewood, North Carolina.
She just hadn’t hauled ass quite fast enough. She hadn’t beat him to Daniel’s cabin. In this particular race, she’d come in dead last.
No, that was Daniel. He’s the dead one.
He stared into the night. Macey and Bowen had gone back to their motel. Was Macey happy, now that Daniel was gone? Did she even realize the gift he’d given to her? Macey hadn’t needed to face the darkness in herself. She hadn’t needed to finally discover...
Will I kill him when I see him? Or will I be able to take him in like a good FBI agent?
He’d saved her the trouble of finding out just what choice she’d make. Though he knew, deep inside, what she’d wanted.
She wanted him dead. I know it. So...he’d made that happen for her. She didn’t have to pretend that she wanted to follow the law. Didn’t have to be the good FBI agent. She could enjoy Daniel’s death.
I gave him exactly what he deserved, Macey. Exactly.
The Doctor had experienced the same torturous pain that he’d given his patients. The bastard had been screaming his fool head off the entire time. He’d also been fighting...because Haddox hadn’t been drugged. There hadn’t been time for that.
Some criminals weren’t meant for a jail cell. Why waste time with a trial? Haddox had been guilty as sin, and he’d been punished for his crimes.
Just as others would soon be punished.
Another race, another kill. Maybe the FBI agents would be better prepared this time, now that the game was truly in play.
He turned away from the mountain and headed for his car. The night was still young. He could easily get to his next target. After all, he knew exactly where his prey was waiting. He’d worked hard to uncover the monsters in the dark.
Now I know where they are. And I will stop them.
When dawn came, Macey and Bowen would get news of another crime. He’d make sure of it. Another race, another killer. He hoped they’d be ready. After all, he had big plans for them both. Very, very big.
Don’t disappoint me, Agents.