Wrecked

  “That’s the thing, though. I do worry. I think about you far too much, Ana Young. You’re in my head, and I can’t get you out.”

  I was out for two years.

  “The last thing I want,” Cash said, voice deepening even more, “is for you to be hurt again.”

  Asher was in front of her. “Ana, is there a problem?”

  She gave a hard shake of her head toward her brother.

  Cash had gone silent.

  “Cash?” she pressed.

  “I’ll talk to you again soon, Ana. Until then, try to stay away from killers.”

  Easier said than done. Ana ended the call and stared at her brother—a man who’d killed.

  For me.

  Asher Young didn’t love easily. He wasn’t a gentle man, and he knew the darkness in him would never go away.

  He loved his fiancée, Bailey Jones. Loved her so much that the emotion sometimes scared him. He’d come close to losing Bailey recently, and for a moment, he’d worried that he might lose his sanity.

  He loved Bailey . . . and he loved his sister. There was literally nothing he would not do for Ana. Years ago, she’d suffered because of him. That grief still cut him up, still had him waking at night, bellowing his rage.

  Ana didn’t blame him, he knew that. But he blamed himself. And he’d made it his mission to be sure that his twin never suffered again.

  So after Asher took Ana back to her office at LOST, he headed in for a little one-on-one time with his boss—and former SEAL buddy, Gabe Spencer. Asher closed Gabe’s fancy office door behind him with a soft click.

  Gabe glanced up, his brows rising. “Hey, Asher, what’s up?”

  Asher leaned back against the door, considering things. “Agent Cash Knox.” Ana had kept slipping up when she talked about the agent. Cash. Her voice had softened. Ana didn’t do that—her voice didn’t soften for anyone, especially not some FBI agent. “I need to know about him.”

  Surprise flickered over Gabe’s face as he leaned back in his chair. “Agent Knox? He’s the special agent who knows Ana. He came in, ready to make any kind of deal to get her on the Bernie Tate case.” He rubbed his jaw. “They’d worked together before, and I think Ana made quite the impression on him.”

  Asher didn’t move. “Ana didn’t mention that she’d worked with him before.”

  “No?” Gabe didn’t look concerned. “Well, I’m sure during her bounty hunting days, Ana worked with so many law enforcement personnel that she didn’t make a list for you.” Amusement coated the words. “Too many people to keep track of.”

  This wasn’t just a professional relationship. He’d heard that truth in Ana’s voice. “When did they work together?”

  “Bernie Tate,” Gabe said, sighing. “That’s how they met. Cash was with the FBI when Ana turned over Tate. So when Tate went missing again, well, it made sense for the agent to come looking for Ana.”

  On the surface, yeah, he might be able to buy that story. But . . .

  Ana had secrets in her eyes. “You know anything else about the guy?” Asher pushed.

  “Only that he’s been rocketing up the ranks at the FBI.” Now Gabe’s voice was measured. “When I checked him out through my contacts, the guy had the highest recs possible. He’s supposed to be a good agent, damn dedicated, with an eye for bringing down the worst criminals out there.” Gabe stared knowingly at Asher. “Kind of sounds like your potential new best friend.”

  Asher just glared at him. “I’m not in the market for a best friend. I’ve got your sorry ass.”

  Gabe laughed. “That is so no way to talk to your boss.”

  Asher started to speak, then he stopped.

  Gabe’s laughter faded away. “Is there a problem I need to know about? Something with Agent Knox?”

  Maybe the problem was just that Asher was an overprotective sonofabitch. Ana knew how to take care of herself. He was worrying for nothing. But . . .

  Let my sister go! Stop it! Stop, please! Don’t hurt her!

  Asher heard his voice, echoing in his mind. Ana was his family. “I think I want to do a little digging on the guy myself.”

  Gabe rose. “Look, I know your last case was a hard one. And that it probably hit a little too close to home.” Gabe stalked toward him, sympathy flashing in his eyes. “I hesitated on assigning it to you because every sign I had pointed to that girl being dead. But I knew, I knew you could find her killer. You did. You stopped him. Just like you stopped the men who were hurting you and Ana so long ago.”

  Oh, buddy, you don’t know the whole story. So few did. He’d told Bailey the truth, when he’d been desperate for her to see him as he really was. Surprisingly, Bailey hadn’t kicked his ass to the curb. She’d stayed with him, dark spots and all.

  “Not every person in the world is a monster,” Gabe added. “Sometimes, there are good people out there. Agent Knox? He’s one of the good guys.” Gabe’s hand curled around his shoulder. “Now why don’t you just take the afternoon off? I know Bailey is still settling in to the new house you two bought. Go spend some time with that beautiful woman.”

  Being with Bailey—yeah, that was what he needed. Her smile wiped away his pain. His rage. She made him feel better.

  Cleaner. Like the past doesn’t mark me.

  But it did. He’d always be marked by his past. Just as Ana was marked. Scars on the outside. And on the inside.

  It was the scars on the inside that were the worst. Those scars twisted a person up. Destroyed a soul.

  Turned a good man . . .

  Into a monster.

  Chapter Six

  The pretty blonde behind the desk was stonewalling her.

  Ana dug deep and managed to produce a bright smile. She showed her ID one more time and kept her voice as sugary sweet as possible when she said, “But I’m sure FBI Agent Knox is waiting for me inside your facility. I’m working as a liaison with the FBI on this investigation.” She glanced around, trying to look perfectly confused. “He told me to meet him at River View Psychiatric, so here I am.” Her gaze returned to the blonde. “He’s going to be incredibly upset if you delay our investigation.”

  The blonde hesitated.

  Ana’s smile stretched just a wee bit more. She was lying to the pretty receptionist. Totally lying. But, well, she’d decided after her lunch with Asher that she wasn’t going to be cut out of this investigation. She didn’t need to be protected.

  She needed to be a partner in this investigation.

  She’d talked to Gabe, briefed him on the situation, and in true “I am the best boss ever” fashion, he’d even given her the company plane to use for her trip back to Virginia. Now she was at the psychiatric hospital, trying to weasel her way inside. An armed guard was giving her the squint eye, so she really needed for the blonde receptionist to get things moving.

  “You’re not on our check-in list,” the receptionist said, her lips tugging down in a frown. “Agent Knox went inside just an hour ago, but he didn’t tell me anything about you being here.”

  That’s because I didn’t call in advance. If I had, he would have just told me not to come. “He was probably distracted,” Ana said easily. “Mind on the case. I mean, when a man like Forrest Hutchins goes missing . . . well, that situation is certainly cause for alarm.”

  The receptionist’s hand rose to her throat. “I can’t believe he escaped,” she whispered. “He was supposed to be locked up in the quiet room. No one in or out.”

  “The quiet room?”

  The blonde leaned toward Ana and her voice dropped conspiratorially. “We’re not supposed to call it solitary confinement, but that’s what it is.”

  Thank God for the chatty receptionist.

  “Forrest had an incident with one of the other patients,” the receptionist continued, her expression tightening. “He was put in the quiet room so that he could calm himself back down.”

  “Did Forrest often have incidents while he was here?”

  The blonde’s gaze flickered tow
ard the guard. “He was a very violent man.”

  Was. Not is. Interesting.

  The blonde reached for her phone. “I’ll just call the head of the hospital. Dr. Summers will be able to vouch for you, I’m sure. I mean, Agent Knox must have told her that you were coming.”

  Or not. Ana kept her smile in place.

  But then, over the blonde’s shoulder, she caught sight of a familiar figure.

  Tall, wide shoulders, determined gait, thick hair, stubble covered jaw, and an expression that said . . .

  Ana Young, what the hell are you doing here?

  “Don’t worry about the call,” Ana said dismissively. “There’s Agent Knox. He’ll vouch for me.” Or he’d haul her ass out of there. Though she was really hoping more for option A.

  Cash quickened his stride as he cleared the guard’s screening area. “Ana.” He snarled her name. “What in the hell—”

  “Don’t be mad at her,” Ana cut through his words, hurrying toward Cash even as she motioned her hand vaguely to the gaping receptionist. “She was just following orders. She didn’t realize you expected me to follow you into the hospital.”

  His eyes glittered at her. “I expected you to follow me?”

  “Right, yes, of course.” Ana glanced back at the receptionist, nodding. “I told her that I was working as your liaison, but in your rush this morning, you must have forgotten to properly inform all the staff members.” She exhaled and shook her head. “No matter. I’m here now. I’m ready to help.”

  “Well, thank Christ for that,” he drawled loudly. Then he snagged her wrist in a grip that was a bit too tight. “Before you help, how about we have a quick, private conversation?”

  “Sounds like a great plan.” She kept her expression bright and attentive as he pretty much dragged her out of that reception area, out of the main entrance and into the facility’s parking lot. As soon as they were away from prying eyes, she jerked her hand free of his.

  “Ana.” Once more, her name was a snarl. He needed to watch that snarling tendency. The guy was becoming way too animal-like. “What in the hell are you doing here?”

  “Helping you.” Wasn’t that obvious?

  “Ana . . .”

  “Would you lower your voice?” Because she’d just spotted another guard patrolling the parking lot. From what she could tell, the facility had some pretty good security. But maybe all those guards had been put in place after Forrest vanished. “Stop causing a scene with your partner.”

  He just stared at her. Then he muttered, “You’re going to drive me to drink.”

  “Probably.” But they didn’t have time for his issues right then. “Look, we both know you called me because you wanted my help. You wanted me here with you.”

  Cash shook his head. “No! I wanted you far away. Safe. That’s why I put you on the plane in the first place! The killer contacted you—”

  “Exactly,” Ana cut in, nodding.

  His cheeks tinted red. “You were supposed to stay in Atlanta.”

  “I’m supposed to finish my case.” Now she crossed her arms over her chest and studied him. “I think you have the wrong idea about me.”

  His brows shot up.

  “I don’t give up easily.”

  “You didn’t give up! You found Tate. You did your job.”

  “But I didn’t find his killer. And the fact that the guy is talking to me—or did talk to me—that means I’m involved. Killers don’t just randomly pick up the phone and start dialing folks for fun. They pick their victims for a reason.”

  His jaw locked. “I don’t want you to be a victim.”

  His words were so gruff. She softened as she said, “I know. But I don’t . . . I don’t know what I am to this perp.” Not yet. “I do know that I’m not going to hide. I won’t turn my back on what’s happening. I can’t. That’s just not who I am.”

  “Because you don’t walk away.”

  “I don’t.” She offered him a small smile. “Instead, I butt in. I come in with the force of a battering ram, and I get my job done.”

  His grim expression didn’t change. “I don’t want a target on your back.”

  “So far, I have nothing in common with your victims.” She’d been over this, again and again, during her flight. “The two men—Bernie and Forrest—they were both killers. Criminals. They have that trait in common. I’m not like them.” She knew it was too early to speculate about what was happening with these crimes but . . . “The caller talked about making them pay. It was almost as if he was trying to reassure me.”

  Cash stiffened.

  “I don’t think I’m in danger. I’m not a target. I’m someone who can help you.” Okay, she’d said her part. She wasn’t going to beg. “But if the FBI thinks that a lowly ex–bounty hunter can’t be of assistance—”

  “Cut the bull, Ana. There is nothing lowly about you and we both know it.”

  Her smile became real.

  He blinked at her. Then he held up his hand. “Don’t go getting all cocky yet.” She heard the twang of Texas dip into his voice. “Doesn’t mean I like your methods. You were just trying to sneak into a psychiatric facility. You were lying about an FBI agent’s orders.”

  She winced. “I know. I am so bad.”

  “Ana . . .”

  “Bad,” she murmured, “but very, very good at my job. So how about you read me the riot act later, and we go investigate the quiet room together now?”

  His eyelids flickered. “You already know about the quiet room?”

  She looped her arm through his. “You would not believe how chatty that receptionist was . . .”

  He didn’t like the quiet room.

  Cash stood in the middle of the dark room. No windows. One bed. Such a small space, maybe eight feet long, four feet wide.

  The walls were blue. A light blue. Cash was sure the color had been chosen because it was supposed to be peaceful. Serene.

  But he didn’t feel serene in that little cage. And that’s what this room is. A cage.

  Behind him, Dr. Ellen Summers cleared her throat. He looked back at her, and she pointed to the security camera that was positioned in the corner of the room. “Unfortunately, the patient disabled the camera.”

  “Disabled?” Ana repeated. “How’d he do that?”

  “He ripped it down and smashed it with his bare hands. Smashed it until he bled and two of his fingers broke.” Dr. Summers kept a serene expression on her face. She inclined her head toward Cash. “Forrest is a profoundly disturbed individual. His outbursts were quite strong. Though, I am happy to say, they were occurring less frequently as a result of the therapy he had been receiving.”

  Ana slowly circled around the room. “Therapy, right.” She toed the edge of the bed. “What kind of therapy would that be?”

  Dr. Summers drew herself up to her full height. The doctor was tall, slim, with blond hair that fell to her chin in a perfectly cut bob. “I’m not at liberty to tell you that.”

  “You can tell me,” Cash said, voice hard. “In light of what happened at this facility, you will tell me that.”

  The doctor’s lips thinned.

  “This isn’t some game,” Cash told her bluntly. “This is the kind of screwup that closes down a facility. A killer escaped under your watch. He walked away and it took you two weeks to notify the FBI.”

  Dr. Summers took a step back. “I followed all the proper channels. I contacted local authorities. I sent faxes, emails. I didn’t know the FBI would be involved—”

  “Forrest Hutchins kidnapped and murdered five men. Trust me, the FBI is very interested in every single thing that happens to him.”

  She nodded quickly. “Right. I—I just thought that once the local authorities started searching, they’d find him quickly. Our facility is very isolated. The nearest town is forty miles away. He would have needed to walk for hours in order to just reach the gas station on County Road—”

  “He didn’t have to walk if he had a ride waiting for him,??
? Ana cut in.

  Cash had been thinking the same thing.

  But Dr. Summers shook her head. “Forrest Hutchins had no visitors. His family didn’t even come to see him.”

  No, they’d just paid a shitload to make sure he got into the facility, an experimental facility that had opened just before his sentencing. For both criminals and the general population. Although those two patient groups were supposed to always be kept separate. Always.

  “He received no mail. He had no computer access. As soon as he stepped through the doors at my facility, he had no additional contact with the outside world.”

  “That part of his therapy?” Ana asked, cocking her head as she studied the other woman.

  “Partially. But Forrest wasn’t exactly big on human interaction. He saw most people as being beneath him. Test subjects, if you will. You don’t talk to your experiments. You don’t send them letters. You don’t communicate on the phone with them. You just . . . you use them.” For the first time, sadness flickered in her gaze. “He didn’t connect with anyone, not on an emotional level. That was his problem. The judge saw that—the judge knew that he had problems. I work with people like Forrest every day. I help them.” She glanced around the empty quiet room, seemingly lost for a moment. “I think I could have helped him, too. No, no, I was helping him.”

  “Right up to the moment when he vanished.” Ana paced closer to Cash.

  Dr. Summers clutched her clipboard a little tighter. “There are guards on the perimeter of this facility. There are cameras situated along the exterior of our hospital. He couldn’t have just walked away. Forrest would have been seen. He would have—”

  “Is that why you delayed reporting?” Cash cut in to ask because he’d seen the faxes she sent to the local authorities. They’d been sent at least four days after Forrest’s disappearance. “Because you thought the guy was hiding out somewhere inside your facility?”

  “We were conducting an in-house investigation,” Dr. Summer began, voice tight.

  “No,” Cash fired back. “You were trying to cover your own ass. You didn’t want word leaking to the media that your facility wasn’t secure because when that happened, you knew you’d come under investigation. Judges wouldn’t be sending you new patients. Families would be panicking. So you thought you could make this problem go away on your own, but that shit didn’t work. And now I’m here to try and clean up the mess.”