Miami Beach, Florida

 

Cormac watched her sleep, his hand resting almost idly on her hip. She was on her side, facing him, just a thin sheet covering her gorgeous curves. Her hand was tucked under her head, her blond hair flowing like waves of wheat over the pillows. He brushed a single strand from her face, letting his fingers linger for a second on her cheek. A part of him wanted to wake her up and hear the sound of her voice. Even raised in anger, she had the most beautiful voice. And the passion in her eyes…he liked to see those sparks. He loved her passion and her determination, the independence and confidence she displayed in everything she said or did. She was not like any other woman he’d ever known.

How had he been so lucky to stumble across a woman like her?

But even as he watched her sleep, the darkness of his life began to seep in. There were bruises on her arms, her chest, and her back, burns from the Taser Aria had used on her. He’d brought that into her life, exposed her to someone who could have used a gun as easily as a Taser. It was only dumb luck that Aria hadn’t had her gun on her that day. And if he hadn’t gotten to her house when he had, she might have found it and used it there in her basement, might have taken Wren’s life without consideration for what that would mean to the people who loved her, the people who counted on her. Nothing mattered to Aria but Aria. And Cormac, in a warped sort of way.

He lay back, tossing an arm over his eyes as he felt himself slip back into that place where he found himself struggling with what to do about Aria. Sending her back to the mental health facility was just a temporary fix. She had this way about her that convinced people she was much saner than she really was. Only Cormac could see the truth. Only he saw what she didn’t allow others to see.

But what else could he do?

And Wren…her people would come looking for her soon enough. If her father didn’t raise the alarm, her coworkers would. Then what? Would she go back and abandon whatever this was that they were building together? Would she give up on the investigation they’d been running together? Would she turn on him and go to the police about all that had happened between them?

He couldn’t risk that.

He’d taken her phone and destroyed it. Her wallet was gone, too, burned at Aria’s hand. She could probably manage to find a way back to California, but it would be difficult without his help. He’d told her she was free to go, but really, she wasn’t. He had to keep her close until he figured out what his next step was. Focusing on this investigation was a distraction, a way to keep her occupied. And everything she’d learned from her mother’s former husband was…hell, even he wasn’t expecting some of the revelations she’d managed to glean from that Mitchell fellow. She was so upset when they left…it must have been a shock to her to learn that her mother was human. All she’d known of her mother were abstract stories and the mode of her death. Hearing someone talk about her with such affection must have been difficult.

He felt for her. He knew what it was like to learn things about your parents you weren’t expecting.

He looked at her, at that beautiful face. He reached over and brushed his fingers against her cheek again, letting his fingers linger on her jaw. He really hadn’t wanted to get her involved in this. When he’d first met her…he’d never meant to draw her in so deeply. He knew she wanted to know who killed her mother, and he so desperately wanted to give her that. But was that the only reason he kept jumping when she called? Probably not. He knew better than to let people in, to get close to anyone. After the fiasco that befell him after Aria, he knew better. But…he couldn’t help himself. And now he was in this mess, and she was in this mess, and he had to figure out what to do before someone got hurt.

What was he going to do?

Maybe he should let Wren go, let her return to her security firm and tell the world what Aria had done to her. Maybe then law enforcement would take it out of his hands, and he’d be free again to live something like a normal life. But he knew Aria. He knew she’d find a way back to him, and that the nightmare would just be worse next time.

He couldn’t let Wren go. He couldn’t let her go to the police. He had to figure out something that would keep Aria safe and under control first. And then he could figure out what to do with Wren.

In the meantime, he needed to decide what they were going to do next.

Mitchell had mentioned that Wren’s mother came from Round Rock. Now that they knew that, it should be easier to find any remaining relatives that still lived in the area. Cormac climbed out of bed and found his laptop down in the living room. He pulled on his slacks that had been left downstairs the night before and settled where she’d been sitting, his laptop on his legs. He was still an FBI agent, still had access to databases that could do more than a simple internet search could. And the knowledge that Elizabeth’s father was a cop was even more helpful.

Cormac found him in less than twenty minutes. Stephen Thomas, Sr. He had been a patrol officer in Round Rock for twenty-five years before he took his retirement, and he’d received his pension checks at an address there in Round Rock as recently as three weeks ago.

He was about to get up and go wake Wren, but his cell phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He’d forgotten it last night, but the moment he felt it begin to vibrate, he knew what it was. And he knew it wasn’t the first time the phone had rung all night.

“Where have you been?” she demanded the moment he answered the phone.

“It’s okay, Aria. I was sleeping.”

“With her?”

“You keep telling me to take care of myself. I was asleep, nothing more.”

“Where are you?”

“I’ll be home in a few days. I promise.”

“I need you here, Cormac. I miss you!”

“I know. I’ll be there soon, but you have to be patient. You have to focus on yourself. Do you remember what I told you?”

“I remember.”

“Be strong, Aria. It’ll be okay.”

He disconnected the call a moment later and sat back on the couch, rolling his head against the pillowy couch back. He closed his eyes, feeling a little overwhelmed. A lot overwhelmed, actually. When had everything gotten so out of control? Aria was like a boulder tied around his neck.

He thought about the first moment he’d met her. He’d been relatively new to the field, having spent most of his time with the FBI in training. He had a degree in psychology, but profiling was so much more complicated than that degree had prepared him for. But it was his passion. He wanted to know what made a criminal tick, especially serial killers. Being on that case, profiling a serial rapist who was escalating, was the closest he’d ever gotten to what he really wanted to do.

And then he’d walked into that hospital room and set eyes on a petite, beautiful, dark-haired woman who was clearly frightened, who’d clearly been used and abused. There were bruises on her face, her arms, and her wrists. One eye was so swollen that it was nearly closed, dark stitches marking a cut along the edge of one lip. One leg was in a cast. How she’d escaped her rapist with a broken ankle, he would never fully understand. Such strength and determination! He admired her in that first moment, admired her decision to live no matter what.

Had he known how unstable she was, would he have changed his mind? Would he have run the other way as he now knew he should have?

Probably not, if he was truly honest with himself.

He was so ambitious back then, so fiercely focused on his career and the day he’d be put on a serial killer task force. He thought that was the way he could fix his past, the way he could assuage his guilt. If he could work to track down these killers before they killed more innocent people, he could make up for the mistake he’d made. And the only way to get there was to show his superiors that he was willing to do anything they set in front of him.

Instead, he allowed a crazy woman to sabotage him and his career.

‘Get close to her,’ they told him. ‘Let her know she can trust you.’ And that’s exactly what he’d done. He told her things about himself that he hadn’t even told his girlfriend. He told her things about himself that he hadn’t told anyone since he was a teenager moving from foster home to foster home, his name changing so often he couldn’t remember what it was from time to time. If he hadn’t told her those things… When the case was done, she didn’t understand that their relationship was over. He explained it to her, told her that it was all about catching the bad guy, which they’d done. It was over. Time for them both to go back to their own lives.

Aria didn’t have a life to go back to. The rapist had stripped her of her life. She had no family, no friends to help her rebuild her world. She had nothing.

Three months after the case ended, she showed up at his apartment, begging him to come back to her. His girlfriend faced off against her, told her to get lost, but Aria filled her with stories of things Cormac had never done. And then Aria showed up at Quantico, making claims against him in a calm, closed-door meeting with his superiors that proved a calm woman could convince bureaucrats of almost anything under the right circumstances.

In the course of a week, he lost his girlfriend, his job, and his home. All because of her. To say he was angry was an understatement. But when he confronted her…

A man who could turn his back on a broken woman was a man he didn’t want to be.

He got her into a facility, convinced her that she needed help. The facility was supposed to help her not only overcome her mental deficiencies, but also learn how to live on her own again. And it did, to a certain degree. But she never forgot about him.

What was he supposed to do? She had no one.

“What are you doing down here?”

Cormac sat up and opened his eyes, the sight of Wren walking toward him, wearing nothing but a crocheted blanket from off the bed, a vision that was almost surreal. She was so beautiful, he could hardly believe that light in her eyes was aimed toward him.

“Hey.”

He moved to stand up, but she pushed him back and climbed onto his lap, dropping the blanket so that it pooled in their laps. He lifted her breasts in his palms, cupping them with her nipples pressed hard against his hand. She smiled, her own hands sliding down the length of his arms.

“How do you feel about Texas?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Never been.”

“Really?”

“I don’t get out of California a lot.”

“Well, I guess you have an experience ahead of you.”

“Do I?”

“I located your grandfather. I thought we’d go talk to him, see what else we can find out about your mother.”

She tugged his hands away from her breasts, holding them in her hands instead as she studied his face.

“Just like that?”

“He was a cop. I looked him up through a law enforcement database.”

“You’re sure it’s him?”

“Pretty sure.”

She nodded, sliding her hips farther up against his as she let go of his hands. “When do we leave?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any rush.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his throat. “We can take our time getting ready.”

“I’m with you there,” he said, sliding his hands down her back and over her perfectly round ass. “Anything you want.”

He felt her smile, her lips still against his throat, but her hands were wandering low, already tugging at the front of his slacks.

He had the feeling they wouldn’t be going anywhere for quite a while.

He had no problem with that.