She pointed him toward the sparse kitchen and wandered past him to open the bedroom door. Habitually, she glanced at the windows to make sure they were still secure. “The sheets are clean, as are all the appliances.”
He leaned over her to view the bed. “It’s very nice. Thank you.”
“No problem.” She had to get away from his body before she tried to lick his smooth skin and tackle him to the navy blue bedspread. She ducked under his arm and hurried toward the hallway before turning. “The tattoo above your heart? What does it mean?”
He followed her and put one broad hand on the door’s edge. “Freedom.”
Ah. Perfect for a soldier. “That makes sense, considering you fought for freedom.”
His eyes darkened to the gray of the sky before a storm hit. “You have no idea.”
The low rumble of his voice gave her all sorts of ideas, but she had enough trouble.
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.
“Laney? Why do you own a bar?” he asked.
She paused, studying him. Nobody had ever really asked her that question. “I was raised by an alcoholic.”
He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing. “Interesting. Why buy a bar?”
She shrugged. Her mother had battled booze her entire life, often leaving Laney to raise herself. While safe and clean, she was often lonely and afraid of the world. “I learned early that alcohol controls you, or you control it. This way, I win.”
Intrigue creased his cheek, and those eyes warmed. “Fascinating.”
Her belly flopped. Why had she told him the real truth? Ignoring the sizzle in the air, she turned to the matching door across the hall. “Well, I’m in there. If you need anything…” God. She hadn’t just said that.
One second he was glancing at her door, the next moment, he’d grabbed her waist, turned, and planted her behind his hulking form.
“Whoa—” she sputtered. Who moved so fast?
His back all but vibrated, the muscles shifting. “Did you leave your door ajar?”
“Um, no.” Dread ripped down her spine. She peered around him to her quiet doorway. “Why?”
He crossed the hall, dropping to his haunches. “It’s open.”
She tiptoed toward him, her mind spinning. Leaning over his shoulder, she squinted. “Are you sure?” The door appeared closed. But the thought of somebody waiting inside dropped a hard ball of terror into her stomach. “We should run.” She grabbed his arm and tugged.
He didn’t move. “No need to run.”
Fear surged through her veins and clogged her throat. She couldn’t move him. She’d been on guard for so long, she never would’ve left her door unlocked. “Please. Let’s go.”
For answer, Matt set a knuckle against the wood. The door coasted open.
She gasped, and he turned toward her.
Eugene chose that moment to jump for her knee, and she tumbled into Matt. Heat, toned muscle, and male warmed her palms as he pivoted to keep her from falling. Her hands skimmed down to his abs. He grasped her upper arms, steadying her. She swallowed, glancing up at his hard-cut face, and tried to retreat. “Sorry.” Run. They had to run.
He gently pushed her toward the other apartment and bent to draw a wicked knife from his boot. “Go in there and lock the door.”
At the sight of the blade, her mind cleared. “That’s quite a knife.”
“Yes.” He gestured her toward his apartment.
The knife… the blade. Her brain flashed back to his wounds. There had been no gravel or dirt in the gashes… and they were straight. Somebody had cut him. “You weren’t in a motorcycle accident.” She backed into the wall.
He surveyed her, no expression on his face. “No.”
“I, ah, think you should leave.” She should run into the other apartment and slam the door.
“Listen, Laney”—his voice dropped to smooth and soothing—“it looks like somebody might have broken into your apartment, and they might still be there. How about I check, and afterward I’ll leave?”
“Who are you?” Her voice trembled, while her mind listed the items she needed to pick up on the way out of town.
“Exactly who I said.” He waited patiently, not making any threatening moves.
The man appeared more than trained, more than capable of dealing with an intruder. If she heard one wit of a fight, she was heading for her car and speeding for the next state. She slowly nodded and was rewarded with a charming smile that didn’t come close to lightening his alert eyes.
He turned. “Stay here,” he whispered.
Right. Two choices. Stay in the hall and let a strange man wander her apartment, or go into her apartment with the strange man. No way. There was no choice. She sidled back toward the empty apartment in case she needed to jump inside and lock the door. A tiny voice whispered in the back of her head that a locked door wouldn’t stop a man like Matt Dean. So she’d head for the window the second after she locked the door. There wasn’t an escape rope in the guest apartment like she had in her place. Jumping two stories would be difficult, but she could do it.
He emerged from her place minutes later with a bouquet of red roses and an unopened card. “I think these are for you.”
Relief filled her so quickly she sagged. “Oh.” Ripping open the card, she shook her head. The script was short and sweet. Laney, I’m sorry our date didn’t work out. Please give me another chance. Greg. “You’re kidding me.”
“Problem?” Matt frowned.
“Not really.” Laney blew out a breath and took the flowers. Her hands shook as the adrenaline fled her body. “Just a guy who doesn’t understand we don’t mesh.” The mild-mannered pharmacist had been a complete bore the night they’d gone to dinner. “He probably thinks this is romantic.”
Matt eyed the roses. “That is creepy. He had to have keys in order to have navigated the lock and two dead bolts.”
“Unbelievable.” How had the creep gotten her keys? Her mind reeled. She was usually so careful. Suddenly, she felt small and vulnerable. “I guess I’ll need new locks.”
“How about as part of my rent I replace your locks as well as mine?” Matt leaned back against the door, arms crossed.
God, he was big. She swallowed. “Who stabbed you?”
He studied her until she wanted to squirm. So she lifted her chin. “Well?”
“I don’t know.” He lifted one muscled shoulder. “I was in a bar fight in Colorado that got out of control. A guy pulled a knife and stabbed me.”
“What about him?” she asked quietly.
“He may have been knocked out.” The flash of teeth was quick. “But he’s still alive, if that’s what you’re asking.”
She shuffled her feet. Her problems were apparently getting worse, and having an ex-marine in her corner would be a huge bonus. What if Matt was the dangerous one? Her instincts weren’t the best, but she wanted to trust him. At least, her suddenly raging libido wanted to trust him. Plus, she really needed him in the bar for the next two weeks. During that time, she’d make enough money that maybe she’d move on. It was probably time.
He waited, not moving, his endless patience intriguing.
Finally, she nodded. “You can stay. But lie to me again, and you’re out on your butt.”
“Fair enough.” He slipped toward his doorway. “Do you want me to have a discussion with this Greg person?”
She couldn’t stop the quick laugh. “Ah, no. He’d probably die of a heart attack if you threatened him. I can handle it.”
Matt pivoted at his door. “If you say so.” He paused in shutting it. “If you have any other problems, you call me.” Not waiting for a reply, he shut the door.
Laney stared at the silent door. Her heart rate kept galloping. “Yeah. Right.”
Matt leaned against his door and waited until Laney had shut and locked her door. The three locks were impressive and meant business. The woman was smart, so how had she lost her keys?
His brief tour o
f her apartment had taught him quite a lot about his new boss. She was meticulous, liked bold colors, and had created a bedroom made for passion. Sprawling bed with a sensual sapphire-colored bedspread. There were several bookshelves scattered throughout the small home shelving books ranging from classics to modern romance novels.
Different digital cameras had been lined up on a bookshelf along with a few scrapbooks. Black-and-white photos of buildings, rivers, and stormy skies had decorated the walls—pictures he’d bet had been taken by Laney.
She’d also taken many pictures of her brother, whom she’d apparently loved. The young marine had been featured in several pictures throughout.
Matt should feel guilty about how easily he’d manipulated her into giving him the job and the apartment. Yet he was exactly where he needed to be right now in order to complete his mission and find the damn female doctor who’d guaranteed his death.
Time to get down to business and forget the appealing woman next door. Matt pulled his laptop out of his pack and followed his nightly ritual of pressing play on a well-worn DVD. They’d discovered it in a raid of an off-grid training facility a month ago.
The scene came up, the one that gave him nightmares. Even though it hurt like a hot poker to the spine, he tuned in all his senses, hoping this once, he’d see something different. A clue as to what had really happened to his youngest brother, and more importantly, where to find him. Dead or alive, but most likely dead.
On the DVD, two years ago, Jory sat, hands tied, bloody and battered. Fire was in his gray eyes, showing a rare but deadly temper. Then the silhouette of a woman had showed right before several shots were fired into Jory. He’d fallen, gray eyes wide in death.
The screen went blank.
No clues, nothing new pierced Matt’s brain. Failure and raw agony swamped him. He’d left his baby brother to die alone. Tears he’d never allow anybody to see spiked his eyes like acid. He’d lived with fear, he’d lived with pain, but failure was just too much. Now, with Jory’s face in front of him, his hands shook and his vision clouded. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice raw and hoarse.
He wanted to rail at the fates and lose himself in the process. But despair was a luxury he couldn’t afford until he saved his two remaining brothers. He’d promised them as children that they’d survive their captors and find freedom.
A month ago, his other brother, Shane, was sure he’d seen another DVD where Jory had moved after being shot. But Shane had fought with a head injury, with amnesia, and the other DVD had never been found. Shane thought he remembered seeing Jory blink after being shot, but he couldn’t be sure. Even now, with his memories returned, he didn’t know if Jory blinked or if it had been a trick of the lighting.
Matt swallowed and fought down rage. The recording didn’t lie. Jory was gone. He repeated the mantra, trying to shove down desperate hope that he was wrong.
Taking a deep breath, Matt tugged a worn postcard out of his back pocket. He’d stolen the card from a woman in Texas, the grandmother of a nurse who had supposedly befriended Dr. Peters, the woman he now sought, at least according to what Shane had been able to discover from the few medical personnel they’d tracked down.
Medical personnel who used to work for the commander and the organization—the group still hunting Matt and his brothers. The nurse had somehow died while working for the organization, and Dr. Peters had initially sent a sympathy card. Once Matt had been able to track down the dead nurse’s grandmother, they’d watched her for years… breaking into her quaint home every once in a while to go through her correspondence and computer. A month ago, they’d finally hit pay dirt. Dr. Peters, whoever she was, had sent money along with a postcard. The card was blank except for the address, and it featured a picture of the small town of Charmed, Idaho.
The doctor had to be in Charmed.
He punched in a series of codes on his laptop to ensure security. Finally, he opened the e-mail from Shane. Current pictures of the possible targets living in Charmed came up—three women, all blond. That made sense. While they had never found a picture of Dr. Peters, the medical folks he’d interrogated confirmed she’d been a brunette. A woman on the run would change her hair, and blond seemed like a good choice. He would’ve gone with red, but he was probably better trained.
The laptop dinged, and Shane appeared. His brother’s brown hair brushed his shoulders, and his eyes were tired. “Made contact yet?”
“Not in the last thirty minutes.” Matt rubbed his chin as he studied his younger brother, the one who’d fought his training the hardest and yet had brought the most hope to them all. The one who’d taken a chance on love with his wife, Josie, and actually won, giving Matt one more family member to agonize over. Matt couldn’t imagine his family without her now. “My money is on the family practitioner.”
“I’ll take that bet. It’s the coroner.” Shane peered closer, his gray eyes identical to Matt’s. “She’d still be able to cut into people that way but would be hard to find.”
“Perhaps. Give me what you know on the nonexistent Dr. Peters.” He’d rather hear the rundown about her than see it for the first time.
Shane stretched his neck. “She’s in her late twenties, a highly trained doctor, no family, and no close friends I could find. Her one and only contact is where you found the postcard. She’s a loner, a think.”
“Sounds like a sweetheart.” This was the kind of woman he was used to—cold, determined, and merciless.
“Yeah. The bitch is a neurosurgeon with a specialty with the spine.”
That made sense, considering she’d implanted triggers beside their vertebrae that would sever their spines in less than two months if the correct code wasn’t entered into the chip. As soldiers, they were often in surgery, and it had been easy to knock them out and implant the devices. They’d also had sperm harvested while they were out, but according to the records, no babies had ever been created. “Are you sure she assisted with the surgeries?” Matt asked.
Shane nodded. “According to the files I’ve hacked, she at least assisted Dr. Rodriquez with the surgeries.”
“Rodriquez created the devices, right?” Matt bit back a wince when his homemade stitches pulled.
“Yes, and we killed him when we fled the operation.” Shane sighed, no regret in his dark tone. “Our only chance is finding this woman, Matt.” Desperation filtered through the words.
“I know.” He’d find the woman, and he’d make sure she helped them get rid of the triggers before they blew. Shane needed to live to protect Josie. In fact, they all did. Death hung over them like a talisman. “How did you narrow our target down to three women?”
“Once we narrowed the search to Charmed, I hacked every governmental database I could find to investigate the citizens. Thank goodness Charmed is a small town. I’ve only done a surface search, and so far, these three women are all off the grid and have some sort of medical background. Red flags.” Shane shook his head. “No records past about five years ago… which is odd. I guess if you’re running from something, Charmed, Idaho, is a good place to go.”
Maybe. But the doctor couldn’t hide from Matt. “I’ll find her. I promise.”
Shane frowned. “I’ve also been trying to find some information on Emery since we learned he’s still working with the commander.”
Matt stretched his neck, his gut churning. Josie had been taken by the commander only three months ago, and during that time, she’d discovered Emery was still with the enemy. Thank God Matt and his brothers had rescued her before she’d been really hurt. “When we blew up the compound and escaped the commander five years ago, I knew we should’ve killed Emery.” The guy was crazy and enjoyed inflicting pain. He always had.
Shane shook his head. “Emery had a right to find freedom for himself and his brothers, just like we did. He was raised and trained in that hellhole, too.”
Yeah, but as the leader of the brown-eyed family of brothers, Emery had enjoyed the hell. “If we find confirmat
ion that he’s still working with the commander, I’m taking him out,” Matt said.
“Fair enough.” Shane leaned closer to the monitor. “You’re pale. How badly are you wounded?”
“I’m fine. Ah, how’s Josie?” The thought that Shane was actually married still threw him. Especially since Josie was a sweetheart and much too soft for their life.
“She’s working hard on the books for our security company.” When they’d escaped from the commander, they’d set up a security business that provided jobs for ex-soldiers in protection, infiltration, and other methods the government didn’t condone, but still used. They’d made a nice sum of money without anybody, including their employees, knowing their names or locations. Good enough money to buy excellent equipment to hunt the group still hunting them. Shane rubbed his chin. “Josie is adjusting well to life here.”
His brother was too well trained to state their location, even through a secured line. But Rebel, Montana, was a perfect place for their home base. “I’m glad. Really.” In fact, the relationship fascinated Matt. How in the world could it work? Kind and soft women were anomalies in their lives. “Tell her hi for me.”
“I will.” Although haggard, Shane looked happier than Matt had ever seen him. Good on him.
“Has Nate checked in?” Matt asked.
“Yes. He’s following the lead on the lost DVDs—hopefully the one I saw before losing my memories.” Shane leaned closer to the camera. “I still don’t remember anything else except the end of the video when Jory may have moved. He may not have, Mattie. I might be wrong.”
Chances were that Shane was wrong. Matt hadn’t seen any movement when he watched his video. “Jory is dead, Shane. Stop hoping and let’s deal with the facts.”
Shane nodded, a veil dropping over his eyes. “Okay.”
What a load of crap. “I mean it.” Matt put bite into his order this time.
“Yes, sir.” Shane instantly slipped back into early training. Then he bit off an expletive. “Stop it. We’re past that.”