Cynthia tried to keep her cool as she headed for her office. After all the training and extractions she’d done, it’d suck completely for her to lose her self-control now. Dammit! She clenched her teeth. James’ body had pulverized every brain cell and shot her thoughts straight to the gutter. To that place she was familiar with—where he’d ruled her mind and body, and she’d given up all pretense of even caring that he was in control.
Her blood sizzled with awareness. It wouldn’t do her any good to give in to her desires. This was a different time. She was a different woman. James was…fucking hell! He looked so good he made her eyes water.
Memories drifted through her mind. Of all the times he’d shown her how much he wanted her. They’d been explosive in bed. Heck, they’d been explosive out of it. He’d been the only man who made her melt with a single smile. One grin and her body temperature skyrocketed. If only those feelings stayed in the past. Instead, she felt like she’d gotten an electric shock from her head to her toes. Tingles swept down her body, pooling at her core. Carajo! Great time for her hormones to remember he was her biggest—hell, her only, desire.
Galvez stood by her window.
Tension twisted in her stomach, into a thick uncomfortable knot that pushed her to lash out. “What are you doing here?”
He lifted a bushy dark brow. “You seem to forget who I am.”
She ground her teeth. Tomorrow she’d have a horrible pain in her jaw, but that didn’t matter right now. “I assure you, I’ve tried very hard to forget who you are, but it’s not working.”
A vein twitched on his left cheek. She watched it, fascinated.
“Cynthia, I only want to help you succeed.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need your help.”
“I want to move past this awkwardness. I want us to grow—”
“I don’t know what the heck gave you the impression I’m interested in growing anything with you, but lose that idea.”
“Cynthia, your being here means a lot to me.”
Anger urged her feet, and she marched around him to her desk to sit. Leather squeaked. She hated the tall chair. Her damn feet dangled. At five–two, she knew she was short, but that chair just made her feel like a midget.
“Look, Galvez, we both know you are only interested in what you want.” She adjusted the chair until her feet touched the carpet. “Now, what do you want?”
“I know you don’t believe me, but I want to see you succeed with the FPU.”
“I already met half of the team. We’ll get along fine. I don’t need hand holding.” Not that he’d ever tried any kind of niceties with her.
“I’ve heard about Ramirez, and his little Casanova ways.”
She stopped searching through her files to glance up at him. “Ramirez is one of the best field operatives. I’ve read his file. He and Buchanan work as a team. In and out. No messes. No problems.”
Galvez’s features tightened. “He’s also a flirt.”
“Not everybody is perfect.” She flung back. “You certainly aren’t.”
They had a staring contest that lasted a long tense moment. She curled her fingers into fists, nails biting into her palms.
“Let me know if you need my help.”
Of course she would. When hell froze over. “Anything else?”
“Yes. Keep me abreast of all that goes on with the team.”
She took a breath and counted to ten backward and forward before replying. Her attempt at tamping down the surge of anger hadn’t worked well. “How many times do I have to tell you, you’re not my boss?” Heat kissed her cheeks. Her temperature had risen to the point she knew sweat would start gathering on her upper lip. She tried not to growl when she spoke. “This is my team. I do things my way. If I have a problem, I will let Wheeler know.”
Galvez marched to the door. His pristine, black suit only made his brown skin appear even darker. He gripped the handle. “Don’t forget why you’re here.”
Was he for real? Like she could.
“Oh, I won’t.” She got out through gritted teeth. “I’m here to lead a team of paranormal agents. You, on the other hand, are here to piss me off.”
He jerked the wooden door open. “I’ll be watching you.”
“I’ve no doubt you will.”
Would he leave already and stop his stupid taunts? He marched off in silence. Rage licked at her skin. She wasn’t one to anger easily, but Galvez just pushed the buttons that made her want to pull out some missiles and go World War III on him.
She sat there, silent. Galvez might be a jerk, but he had pull. No matter what happened, she needed to keep her team under control. If she didn’t, they’d surely remove her, and only God knew who they’d put in charge.
Buzzing sounded from her pocket. Shit. She’d forgotten Clara. She sent Donovan a message, asking her to pull up the missing person’s report and email it to her. A few moments later an envelope popped up on her screen. It was the missing person’s report for Roxana Santos.
Her sixteen-year-old cousin had been missing for two days. Aunt Clara had reported her missing yesterday. No definitive information on who might know where the teen had gone.
Sixteen and missing. She reached for the phone, dialed the Holy Oaks Police Department, and waited. Ten frustrating minutes later she had no more information than she’d had before. She gripped the squishy stress ball from her desk and hurled it at her door. At the same time it opened. Brock’s hand shot out and caught it.
“Nice shot. Didn’t realize you knew it was me.”
She licked her lips. Christ how was she gonna survive this day from hell? Fuck. She tried really hard not to ogle him again, but failed miserably. “I didn’t. What can I do for you?”
“What’s wrong?” His brows dipped low. Muscles shifted under the black T-shirt. Big smooth muscles. Muscles she knew were warm to touch. Her throat dried like the flames from yesterday had licked away all the moisture.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
She tried to blink the vision of his naked body away. Her brain focused on the image of his tight pecs and six-pack abs. Of the dark lines tattooed on his arms and chest. Jesus. She would never get any work done with that on her mind. She blinked. Only now her focus moved to his hands. Those big hands with thick digits. Oh, hell no. Don’t even go there. Don’t think of sex. Don’t think of sex. She was screwed. The things those hands had done to her had been magical.
“Something’s clearly wrong. I sensed your fear when I walked in the door.”
Yeah, and he probably smelled her arousal right about now. If only she could control her hormones like she should, everything would be fine. Instead, an insane mental storm of adult rated memories sat at the front of her mind. They were the really good kind too. Incredible memories bombarded her mind, the type where he’d given her multiple orgasms of the screaming kind.
“My cousin. She’s missing.”
He entered her office the rest of the way. She watched him. With a loud click, he shut the door and moved closer to her.
“The call you got earlier?”
She nodded. “She’s been missing for two days.”
He leaned on the door, arms folded over his big chest. “Any clues where she could be?”
“No.”
Brock’s face was incredibly sexy. A decade later, and he still had that bad-boy expression that had made her heart beat double-time from the first glimpse she’d had of his face.
“No?”
“What?”
He grinned. Shit. She’d lost track of the conversation. There was no helping it. All those muscles. That mouth. Those hands. And if she thought of body parts lower than his belly button, he’d know for sure she was turned on.
“I mean” —she cleared her throat— “that the police are very limited on what they have found. They’re going through places she might be at or people who may know where she is.”
“But?”
She sighed. “But they’re thinking she ran away.”
His dark gaze held hers. “You don’t believe that’s possible?”
Goosebumps broke over her arms. His low voice had that effect on her. “I don’t know.” She ran restless fingers through her hair. “Clara sounded sure something had gone wrong. That’s what worries me.”
“What are you thinking of doing?”
She grinned. He’d known she wouldn’t sit by and let something happen to a family member. It was nice to see he hadn’t forgotten that about her.
“I’ll have to go see for myself. Try to figure it out and decide if there’s a bigger case there. Maybe something that was overlooked.”
“Cyn—”
“Save it, Brock.” She gathered the papers she’d been sent over email. “I’m going.”
“Fine.”
“I wasn’t asking permission, you know.”
“I’m coming with you.”
She glanced up, jaw hanging. “I didn’t ask for your backup either. This isn’t even an FPU case. It’s probably a short trip that will end with me finding Roxy at a friend’s house or something.”
“Great. I’m still coming with you.”
“That isn’t necessary.” She argued. “I’m the lead here, Brock. My rules, remember?”
“I’ll let you believe that, if it makes you happy.”
She growled and slapped her hands on her hips. “You’ve gotten full of yourself in our time apart.”
“Not really. I know what I’m doing.” He unfolded his arms and dug his hands into his pockets. His arm muscles bunched with the move. “You might need me.”
Her breath caught at the concern in his eyes. She couldn’t fight his need to protect her. It was the type of man he was. How in the world had she been able to stay away from him?
“I can take care of myself.” She tried to sound less hostile. He only wanted to help.
“Good to know.” His sinful lips flattened into that line that told her he wasn’t backing down. “I’m still coming.”
“You are so…so—”
“Coming.”
She ground her teeth. “Suit yourself, then.”
Cyn woke bathed in cold sweat. Fear, pain, and despair filled her chest to near bursting. She reached for the sleep log with shaky fingers. Sitting up in a rush, she attempted to take down details of her dream. She’d tried her best to use her gift to make some sense out of her dreams of the future. Success had been marginal. If only she could remember things with more detail.
Her phone rang. Anxiety spiked inside her. A quick glance at the screen, and her fear subsided. Marginally. Tonya knew when to call to add some paranoia into her life.
“Tell me everything.”
She shut her eyes to her surroundings and retreated into the memories.
“There were two voices. A softer voice I couldn’t quite make out, but I swear it sounded familiar. The other was just this evil laughter.”
“How did you feel when you heard it?”
“Like something terrible was about to happen.”
Oxygen fought its way into her lungs. Her heartbeat pounded loud in her ears. Fear would only keep her from getting her work done. She had to push it aside. Remember. Even if it felt like she was opening the doors to hell. She needed to know.
“What else did you see?” Tonya’s tone was soothing. She’d done this so many times. She and Tonya shared a link due to their similar gifts. They didn’t have the same dreams. But when one dreamed of the future, the other did too.
“A doll.”
“What kind of doll?”
Another shrill dose of fear wrapped around her in a chokehold. “An old-fashioned material doll. Dirty. Falling apart. Old.”
The image was significant. She bit her lip. Something about the doll stood out. She couldn’t figure out what. It had a regular little dress. Nothing special. She could tell the raggedy toy had been through some serious use. One button eye was ready to fall off. Hair made of string had been bound into pig tails by two old ribbons.
“Can you see anything else?”
Her mind fought to stay with the thin thread of images. Shadows crowded the edges of her brain. Panic started to take hold. Remember.
“A hand. I think I saw a hand. It was really fast.”
“Describe it for me.”
She groaned, frustrated. “I can’t. It’s too dark. There’s not enough that I can make out anything useful.”
“Relax your mind, Cyn.”
Multiple breaths didn’t help. She lost the few memories. Only darkness remained. Darkness that haunted her dreams. That hunted her.
“Goddammit!”
“You need to calm down. Anger won’t help you release your memories from wherever you’re storing them.”
She sighed. That dream was not coming to her tonight.
“Thanks for calling.”
“I’m here for you.”
She clung to the peace listening to Tonya’s voice brought to her. She wanted to hug her friend. A shiver racked her. “I know.”
The next morning, Cynthia opened her front door to find Brock leaning on the hood of her car. His broad, muscular frame was covered in head to toe black. Not that the color did anything to hide his abundant hotness. He met her gaze, pinning him with a profound stare.
“I knew you wouldn’t call for me to say when we’d leave, so I decided to show up.”
“Nice,” she grumbled.
He studied her outfit as she came closer. Great. How could she handle being in a car with him for hours when all her mind kept sharing was every sexual escapade they’d ever had, which had been way too many in the years they’d dated.
“You look nice.”
Her heart flipped. No getting excited over him liking what she’d worn. It wasn’t anything special to throw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, though he made it sound like she’d dressed to the nines. She squeezed the travel mug in her hand. “Thanks. My car or yours?”
“Mine. You can relax while I drive.”
As if she could. She cleared her throat of the words trying to push out. No way in hell could she relax. Too much was on her mind.
“So when was the last time you visited Holy Oaks?” Brock asked.
“I haven’t actually been back to Holy Oaks much,” she said softly.
They’d been driving for almost two hours. Most of which had been a tense silence which started to get on her last nerve. She couldn’t take it anymore. Since he’d picked her up, she’d been fighting the memories of their old life together. What she should be focusing on is the dream and trying to figure out what it meant for the future. If she couldn’t figure it out it could be bad news for someone.
“Stop it.” Brock’s rumble glided over her in a smooth caress. His voice flicked the switch to memory lane. Great. She couldn’t remember what she needed to, but her mind sure knew what door to open for X-rated Brock and Cyn movies to play on loop in her head.
“Stop what?”
“Thinking so hard.”
The numerous trees outside her window were no longer holding her attention. Shifting in her seat, she glanced at him.
His brows dipped in a frown and his eyes turned bright with concern.
“I’m not thinking hard,” she said.
“If you say so. Now tell me why you stayed away from Holy Oaks,” he inquired.
She shrugged. “I just haven’t gone to visit. It’s not like I really remember the place.”
“Why not?” He glanced at her, curious. “How long did you live there?”
Her mind whirled back in time, to the memories she did have of the place. “I lived there until I was three and then grandmom took me to live with her in a new home she’d bought up at Crawford.”
“That’s where we went to college.”
She nodded. “We lived there ever since and never returned. Even though my aunt Clara and her daughter, Roxy, were still living at Holy Oaks.”
“That’s normal? For your grandmother to just up and leave her daughter and never visit again?”
She rubbed the header on the dashboard, flitting through her memories. “Grandmom Marcia spoke to Clara almost daily. She never shared the conversations with me other than to say Clara was very eccentric.”
Brock’s brows rose. “What do you mean very eccentric?”
She shifted in her seat to better stare at his face. What was the point of lying to herself about her feelings for him?
“What about your mom? I remember you always talking of your grandmother but never your mom.” Brock asked again as soon as the quiet lasted more than a moment.
She drove restless fingers into her hair, sliding them down the long strands. “I’m sure I told you I grew up with Marcia.”
“That part, yes. What you never told me was why.”
Oh. Yeah. That wasn’t something she’d liked talking about. “I told you about Iliana.”
“You told me you never lived with her. And that you didn’t really like talking about her because it was uncomfortable for you,” he said, reminding her of every word she’d said every time he tried to have a conversation with her regarding her family. “I didn’t mind waiting until you were ready to talk, but I never actually forgot that a lot was left unsaid between us. All of it from your side.”
“I’m not really sure I want to talk about this.”
“I do,” he replied. He frowned and met her gaze. “I want to know if you going to visit your grandmother before she died had anything to do with you leaving me.”
Shit. If she wasn’t careful, he’d figure out all the reasons she’d walked away. “You’re crazy. Marcia loved you.” It was what she’d been told at Marcia’s deathbed that had made Cyn leave. She had to give him something before he stayed on in that mindset. “You want to know about my mother? Fine. Iliana took off when I was small, which I don’t like telling people. I didn’t really find out much about her, Marcia didn’t like to speak of her, until I was in college. Iliana was a sick woman. Very sick.”
Her chest tightened as pain clawed at her. Memories of finding out about her mother’s illness made her gut clench. Intense throbbing for the woman she’d never gotten to see until she’d already died spread like wildfire in her heart.
Brock’s hands tightened on the wheel. His jaw clenched, and she realized he could probably scent her pain.
“Enough about me. I see you finished college and went to the academy like you’d always wanted.”
He glanced at her. Those ever-changing eyes darkened. “You did too.”
True. “Yeah, but it ended up being something I hadn’t expected for me.”
“Why?”
How did they end up on her again? She couldn’t tell him that her need to be near him had somehow fed her decision to join the academy. She’d wanted to know what he was up to. Reality was, she’d never stopped loving him. Ever. But life was harsh. The things she’d learned about her family had stopped all thoughts of marriage and kids. Brock deserved better.
She cleared her throat. “I wanted to help people. That was all.” Not even close to all, but she’d leave it at that.
The sign welcoming them to Holy Oaks neared. Navy blue with a waterfall the locals considered their natural wonder. The sign had rust spread all over and graffiti over the word Holy to say Hell instead.
“We’re here.” Now to find her cousin and leave before her feelings for Brock pushed her into admitting too much about the past or even worse, doing things she’d later regret.