Washington, DC

Five years before

 

Laura Rosen came awake to the sounds of familiar voices arguing.

“You’re the one who needed to talk, Rafe.” Cameron Briggs’s voice held a level of anger she hadn’t heard from him before. “We should have been there with her that morning.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Rafe Kincaid’s question came out in a harsh grind.

Why were they here? Where the hell was here? The world seemed groggy and hazy. She couldn’t quite feel her limbs. She tried to move them and…

Pain filled her.

It was wrong. She was supposed to wake up happy and warm, not every muscle aching. She was supposed to wake up to Rafe and Cam kissing her, not fighting.

“How do we tell her what’s happened?” Cam asked. “Should we leave that to the doctors?”

A long sigh filled the air. “I don’t know how to tell her, but it must come from us. We can’t leave something like this to a stranger. How do we tell her she’s never going to have children? God, we made love to her a few nights ago. How do we tell her?”

Nights ago? How much time had passed? The words didn’t seem to penetrate her brain. Who were they talking about? Certainly not her. She remembered that they’d made love to her and then…

“I’ll tell her,” Cam offered. “I’ll take care of her from now on. You should go.”

“I’m not fucking going anywhere,” Rafe snarled back. “And if you suggest it one more time, we’re going to take this to a physical level.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

They were fighting. Over her. She’d known it wouldn’t work. She’d known it was crazy to think they could share her.

She fought her way through a haze of pure agony. She forced her eyes open. This was everything she’d feared. They’d had one beautiful night together and now it was threatening to fall apart.

Except it already had. It had fallen apart the minute they’d chosen their careers over her.

No, I don’t agree with Special Agent Rosen’s profile. She’s very smart, but I think she’s wrong this time. Cam had spoken with his head up, eyes anywhere but on her.

I think Special Agent Rosen has an interesting theory, but it’s too far out for any of us to pursue. We should stick with Edward’s. He’s got far more experience. Rafe had looked at her with sickening sympathy in his eyes.

They’d proceeded to tear apart her profile, not giving even a hint that a line of it could be true. They hadn’t given her a heads up that they’d read her profile. They hadn’t discussed it with her. No. They’d simply…

The truth flooded her system, the past few days playing out in her mind like a horror movie.

Except it had been real. The monster she’d been hunting had come for her. She’d been standing outside her apartment after the worst day. She’d been fired and then…

“Bella?” Rafe’s voice cut through the terrifying memories. “She’s awake.”

Cam was suddenly at her side. “Baby? Baby, don’t move. You need to stay still. We’ll get a doctor. Rafe’s going right now.”

Guilt. It was right there in his eyes. Terrible guilt.

What had they been talking about? They’d been fighting and then they’d said something about what they couldn’t tell her.

“What happened?” Her mouth was dry. The last thing she’d remembered was managing to get the ropes undone. The Marquis de Sade, the serial killer she’d profiled, had kept her for days in some warehouse. He’d tortured her. He’d taken…god how much had he taken from her?

Cam got to his knees by her bed, his big hand covering hers. “How much do you remember?”

She didn’t want to remember anything at all. “No one believed my profile and I got fired and then he took me. I was standing in front of my apartment door and everything went dark. Then I woke up and he was there.”

It had been the utter opposite of the night before when she’d fallen asleep cuddled in between Rafe and Cam. That night had been everything she could have hoped for, dreamed of. They’d held her and loved her, and in the morning they’d been gone. The next time she’d seen them, her lovers were telling her boss that her profile was shit. Oh, they hadn’t used those words…

She was in a hospital. Everything hurt. She was in a hospital because the Marquis de Sade had tortured her and stabbed her and left her pinned to a table like a butterfly he’d been studying.

He’d stabbed her low, right above her pelvis.

“It’s all going to be okay,” Cam promised her. “You don’t have to worry about anything except getting better.”

Of course she didn’t. She no longer had a job.

Then the doctor was there, checking her vitals and saying a whole bunch of stuff that made no sense to her. She was surrounded by men and she didn’t want a one of them there. They were staring down at her with sympathy, like she was something to pity.

And maybe she was.

“Doctor, I would like to speak with you alone, please.”

Rafe got down on one knee at her bedside. “There’s no need to hide anything from us.”

Cam was on her other side. “We’re here to help you. You can’t imagine how scared we’ve been. Baby, you have to know that we’re going to be here for you.”

At one point in time, those words would have been so sweet. Now they rang as hollow as the look in Cam’s eyes. She turned away from him. She couldn’t be around them now. There was too much pain in her body to handle the blows they would deal to her soul if she let them stay. She turned back to the doctor. “These men are not married to me and not related. I would like them removed from my room, and you don’t have permission to share my information with them.”

She heard Cam’s gasp and then Rafe was standing over her. His eyes bore into her. “You can’t get rid of us, bella.”

“Laura, please. Don’t do this. I’m sorry for what happened. Don’t kick me out,” Cam pleaded.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the doctor said gravely.

“It won’t work, bella,” Rafe said even as he got to his feet. “We’ll be back with the team to take your statement in a few hours. And we will discuss everything. This isn’t over. Come on, Cameron. We’ll give her space.”

Cam looked back as Rafe led him out of the room.

“Don’t let them back in.” She couldn’t deal with them now. She’d made a terrible mistake thinking this could work between the three of them. Even being with one of them would have been a mistake. She knew that now.

The doctor looked down at her. “Ms. Rosen, are you sure you want to keep those men out? They seemed extremely concerned about your well being.”

Seemed being the operative word. “Could you please explain what happened? I assume I had surgery. I don’t remember much right now, but I know I was in bad shape.”

“Let me get you some pain medication. You have to be hurting,” he said as though trying to stave off that moment when he had to tell her the whole truth.

She shook her head. It was time to rip the bandage off. It was time to discover exactly what had been taken from her. “Tell me, doctor.”

He sat down, his eyes grim, and began to speak.

 

 

Four days later she stepped up into the cab of the truck, only wincing a bit. The massive eighteen-wheeler smelled of air freshener and stale French fries.

How the mighty had fallen.

“Be sure to buckle up, hon.” The woman in the driver’s seat had curly steel-colored hair. “I can take you as far as Oklahoma City.”

“Thanks.” She pulled the seat belt over her body but only because she’d been asked to. She was completely numb. It was funny because she knew what was happening from an intellectual standpoint. Trauma. She had loads of it. Trauma of the body. Trauma of the mind. So much trauma she could no longer feel anything. She was making decisions based on pure instinct, and that instinct told her to run.

All that mattered was getting the hell out of DC.

If she stayed, he would find her again. The Marquis de Sade wouldn’t stop. She’d tried to warn them all and what she’d gotten for her trouble had been pain and loss.

He didn’t get to take her life. He’d already taken her future.

And he wasn’t the only one she was running from.

If she stayed, they would find her again. Rafe and Cam had tried to talk to her, to explain what had truly happened the day they’d thrown her under the bus, but she wasn’t listening. She couldn’t allow herself to. She had to hold herself together and find a place to lick her wounds.

Alone.

“How far are you going, hon?” the driver asked as they pulled out onto the highway.

“As far as I can,” she replied.

As far away from those men who’d ruined her as she could get.