Run to Me

  “No, it’s not.” West inclined his head. “Bring out Willow before the cops bust in.” He turned on his heel and strode down the hallway.

  Jay shut the door, and his hand lingered against the wooden frame.

  “Is that my blood?”

  He looked at his hand. Then he glanced back at her. She stood near the bed, the covers shielding her body. “Yes.” He headed for the bathroom. Ditched his tux coat, tossing it into the corner, and then he yanked on the faucet.

  “I…don’t remember much after the shooting.”

  She’d followed him into the bathroom. She stood beside him, her reflection right next to his in the mirror.

  “Tell me what happened?”

  He turned off the water. Dried his hands. Never took his gaze off their reflection. “We got in the limo. The driver raced us here. You woke up.” His words were bit off.

  Willow shook her head. “You’re glossing over things.”

  Yes, he was. Jay swallowed. “Fine.” Now he turned toward her. Their bodies were barely a breath apart. “I held you in my arms. I couldn’t stop the blood. You died in my arms. The driver had gotten us to the hospital—we went there first—but I knew there wasn’t a damn thing those doctors could do for you. So I ordered the driver to bring us here.”

  A furrow appeared between her brows. “After I died, what did you do with me?”

  “I told you, I got the driver to bring you here—”

  She shook her head. “My…my body, I mean, what did you—”

  “I fucking held you,” he growled. “And I told you to hurry that sweet ass up and come back to me.” His lips tightened. “You scared the ever-loving hell out of me, but you came back.”

  Her eyes were wide. Deep. And for the life of him, Jay could not read the expression on her beautiful face. Did she hate him? Did she fear him? Did she just want to get away from him?

  He strode out of the bathroom. Headed for the bedroom door. “I’ll take care of the cops. You just stay here and rest. Everything is going to be okay.”

  She didn’t stop him, and he didn’t glance back. He’d discovered that when he looked into Willow’s eyes too much, too long, Jay could have sworn that the woman started to steal his soul.

  ***

  I died. I died, and I came back.

  Willow wrapped one of Jay’s thick, white robes around her body. She was shivering, and she couldn’t seem to stop the chills that raked through her. She’d died.

  Where had she gone when she died? Heaven? Hell? She couldn’t remember, but a tight ball of fear was heavy in her stomach. The dead weren’t supposed to come back. She wasn’t supposed to come back.

  But she had.

  Because she was some kind of freak. A monster that had been created in a lab. A creature of real nightmares.

  Only Jay had kissed her. He’d wanted her, she knew it. His desire had been real. Desire for a woman, not a monster.

  Voices were raised downstairs. Shouting. She had enhanced hearing so it wasn’t any struggle to make out the words. A normal human would have been able to hear those angry words.

  She opened up the door to Jay’s bedroom.

  “We need the body, Mr. Maverick. Just give us the body!” A man’s voice, slightly high, nasally.

  “There is no body.” Jay. She’d recognize his deep voice anyplace. “My friend is resting upstairs. As you can imagine, the night has been quite intense for her. Someone shot at my companion, and you should all be out there looking for the bastard. Not in here, harassing me.”

  A beat of silence, then… “We saw the blood, Mr. Maverick,” the same nasally voice responded. “You can’t keep a dead woman’s body in your home.”

  She crept toward the staircase. Peered over the big balcony and railing. Jay was in the middle of the room below, his hands on his hips. Blood stained his clothes. Her blood. His hair was tousled, his expression—well, it was pissed. West stood at Jay’s side, and he looked just as angry. Dr. Elizabeth Parker was there, too, sitting on the couch, and Sawyer Cage was positioned right next to her. A slightly protective position. Made sense because Sawyer was protective when it came to Elizabeth. She was his lover, after all.

  No, the way Sawyer looked at Elizabeth…she’s his everything. And Willow was jealous of that. Perhaps not jealous, but, envious.

  It would be nice to have someone care about her so much.

  “Don’t make us search your house.” The nasally voice again. Willow’s eyes narrowed. The speaker was a man in a long, brown coat. Tall and built along sturdy lines, the fellow sported dark red hair, and he was carrying a gun. Willow could just make out the bulk of the holster and weapon under his arm.

  Three uniformed cops were there, too. Looking very, very uncomfortable. A woman with blonde hair, an African American cop who had a gaze that kept sweeping the room, and a young, short fellow with curly, black hair. He was sweating and rocking forward onto the balls of his feet.

  “Don’t think I remember seeing a search warrant, Detective Haskin.” Jay flashed the fellow in the trench coat a broad grin. “Maybe come back when you have one, hmm?”

  The detective’s face flashed red. “You know what that swarm of reporters are saying out there? You’ve gone batshit crazy, you’re keeping your dead lover’s body in your bed, you’re—”

  “I’m not dead.” The words slipped out from Willow.

  And suddenly, all eyes were on her.

  The sweating cop had even pulled his weapon, aiming it up at her.

  West immediately grabbed the weapon from the fellow. “Don’t aim that shit at her.”

  Willow released a slow breath. Her gaze darted toward Jay. His grin was gone. “I’m not dead,” she said again, and Willow knew she was directing those words at Jay. She just didn’t know why. I want him to keep seeing me as a woman. Not a freak. “Jay brought me here because I truly was fine. I didn’t need a trip to the hospital.”

  “Uh, miss?” The detective scratched his chin. “I’m going to need you to come down the stairs.”

  Jay tensed, but he didn’t argue.

  Willow began walking down the stairs, far too conscious of the robe around her body and Jay’s stare—a stare that never left her. Her fingers trailed over the wooden banister as she descended the spiral staircase, and when she reached the last step, Jay was there. He rushed toward her. Pulled her close.

  “You should be resting.”

  Were his tender words just for the audience watching them? Probably.

  But he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against his body. He was warm and solid, and the knot of fear in her belly seemed to ease.

  “She doesn’t look like she was shot,” this came from the female officer. Her narrowed gaze swept over Willow.

  Willow forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

  The detective crossed his arms over his chest. “There’s an awful lot of blood on Mr. Maverick’s clothes for you to be fine.”

  “The bullet grazed me. Nothing more.” Did she sound brisk? In control? Or panicked?

  The detective’s attention shifted to Jay. “You left the scene of a crime.”

  Jay pulled Willow even closer to his body. “Someone was shooting at my friend. I had to leave. What did you want me to do? Stay there and keep letting her be a target?”

  No…no, he was wrong. “Jay…” Willow began.

  He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Leaving was my only option. I needed to protect Willow.”

  But she hadn’t needed protecting. “Jay—”

  “You need to find the man who shot at her.” Jay’s voice was colder, harder. “Sweep the streets. Pull every single bit of surveillance video you have of that area. I want you to find the sonofabitch who tried to kill Willow before—”

  “The shot wasn’t aimed at me.” There, she’d finally gotten her words out. Finally made Jay listen.

  His head whipped toward her. “What?”

  “The shot was intended for you, not me. I jumped in front of you becau
se I knew—” She broke off, not saying more. I knew I could survive. He couldn’t have.

  Jay blinked. Once. Twice. And then anger flashed on his face. No, not anger. Rage. His hold tightened. “You took a bullet meant for me?”

  His words were low, obviously intended just for her, but she knew Sawyer could hear him, too. Super soldier senses and all.

  “Willow…don’t.” Jay shook his head. “Don’t ever fucking risk yourself that way again.”

  But it hadn’t been a risk. She’d come back.

  Jay’s eyes blazed.

  She cleared her throat and began to pull from his arms. For a moment, she wasn’t sure he’d let her go. His hold tightened. “When we’re alone…” Jay’s voice rumbled.

  Willow shivered. She wondered just what would happen when they were alone.

  But they weren’t alone right then. She had an audience, and she needed to come up with a story for the detective and his officers.

  “Miss?” The detective’s head cocked to the right. What had Jay called him? Haskin? “How did you know the shot was aimed at Mr. Maverick? How could you tell that? Did you see the shooter? See him aiming? See—”

  “I could hear the shot coming.” An absolute truth. She’d heard the whistle of the bullet as it flew through the air.

  Detective Haskin blinked owlishly. “Come again?”

  Jay cleared his throat. “You’ve seen for yourself that Willow isn’t dead. Now, really, don’t you have a criminal to apprehend—”

  “You heard the shot, ma’am? Is that what you’re saying?” The detective stalked toward her.

  “Everyone there heard the thunder of the gunfire. That’s why everyone was ducking for cover.” West had stepped forward, moving closer to Jay and Willow. “I think what Willow meant was that she’d seen the glint of the weapon, right, Willow?”

  That wasn’t what she’d meant.

  And Detective Haskin didn’t look convinced by West’s explanation, either. “Big difference between seeing and hearing, and she’s saying that Maverick here was the intended target. Think I deserve to hear more information…” His gaze swept over her. “From Maverick’s, um, companion. Or friend. Or whatever she prefers to be called—”

  Her shoulders snapped up. Her hesitation vanished. “I’m his bodyguard.”

  Jay swore. Softly, but very inventively.

  “I use the cover of his companion.” She gave the detective a hard smile. “But my job is to keep Jay safe. And I did that tonight. I spotted the weapon, the glint…” Her gaze cut to West. She was going to be more careful now. She’d just been shaken before, but she had this. She could lie. Every day was a lie for her. “I rushed to Jay and got him out of the shooter’s range. Then coming back here, that was my idea. Not his. I wanted Jay to be safe. Someone out there was gunning for him, and it was my job to protect my client.”

  The detective laughed. “Nice story. I’m really supposed to buy that you are the bodyguard?”

  Now he was just being insulting. “Come at me.”

  His laughter died.

  Once more, Jay swore.

  “I can prove I’m exactly what I say.” She motioned to the detective. He didn’t move. So she wiggled her fingers toward the cops. “Try to take me down.” I dare you. “You’ll see that I have plenty of training. I can handle any threat, anytime. Tonight, I was surveying the scene. Looking for danger. I saw the danger, and I reacted.” Willow thought she sounded cool, calm, and in charge.

  And no one had to know that her heart was about to surge right out of her chest.

  The detective sauntered toward her. A faint smirk twisted his lips.

  “Don’t,” Jay snapped at the guy. “Don’t even think it.”

  The detective had stilled, less than two feet away from her. His chin jerked up, and based on the sudden stiffness of his body, she knew Haskin was going to heed Jay’s warning. But if he heeded the warning, the detective wouldn’t believe her.

  So Willow lunged forward. In a blink, she’d taken the detective’s weapon. Turned the gun on him.

  “Christ, Willow,” West barked. “You don’t do that shit.”

  Jay had gone statue-still beside her.

  She could feel Elizabeth and Sawyer watching her. The uniformed cops had frozen, too.

  The detective’s wide stare jumped from the gun to her. “How—”

  “What do you fear, Detective Haskin?” Willow heard herself ask him.

  “Willow.” Jay’s hands closed around her shoulders. His touch was warm, strong. “That’s enough of a demonstration for tonight.”

  She rather thought she’d just been getting started. But, well… “Here’s your gun.” She flipped it around and offered the weapon to the detective. He snatched up the weapon, his cheeks burning red.

  “Willow is my bodyguard.” Jay didn’t release her. “She stays with me, twenty-four seven. But that isn’t information for the press, got it? So when she says that the shooter was aiming at me, we believe her.” Not a question.

  Sweat trickled down Haskin’s temple. “You got some enemies, Maverick?”

  Jay’s sigh was loud and long. “Yeah, yeah, I do.”

  “Then you should start making a list of them.”

  ***

  After question after question—what seemed like a million questions—the cops left. Finally. The silence in the house stretched and stretched.

  Everyone was in the den. A fire crackled in the fireplace. Willow had changed into jeans and a white sweater. She stood in the middle of the room and squared her shoulders. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

  Jay downed a whiskey. She was pretty sure that might have been his second. Maybe his third. “You got shot. You don’t do that shit again, understand?”

  Sawyer Cage stood. His dark blue gaze swept around the room before he raked a hand through his black hair. “I think we should call it a night.” He nodded to Elizabeth. “Everyone is about to crash. We can check in and regroup tomorrow.”

  Elizabeth hesitated as she focused on Willow. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Willow opened her mouth to reply—

  “She just came back from the dead,” Jay announced. “Why wouldn’t she be fine?” He slammed down his empty glass. Then he marched toward Willow. His body was too tense, and his face was locked into angry lines. “Don’t do that shit again. Don’t you ever risk yourself for me.”

  It hadn’t been a risk. The Lazarus subjects could come back from death, provided they didn’t take a bullet to the brain. Because she was a walking zombie now and she—

  “I am not worth it.” Jay was right in front of her. His eyes gleamed. “No bullets. No blood. Promise me.”

  She wasn’t going to make any promise.

  “Definitely time to call it a night.” West appeared behind Jay. He slapped a hand on Jay’s shoulder. “You know you can’t handle your whiskey for shit.”

  Jay turned his head and met West’s stare. “She died. In my arms.”

  West sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, man, hell, I’m so sorry. It made you remember our sis—”

  “I never forget her.” Jay shrugged away from his hold. “It’s two a.m. Definitely time to call it a night.” He nodded toward Elizabeth. “Thanks for your help, Beth. As always, you’re a lifesaver.” His lips twisted. “We’ll pick up this mess again tomorrow. See just who came gunning for me. Maybe it’s Wyman. Maybe it’s one of the other dozen bastards who want my head on a platter. Either way, we’re done for the night.” He motioned toward the door. “Limo is still out there. The driver can take you all home.”

  Everyone filed out. Everyone but Willow.

  And West. His stare lingered on Jay, and there was no missing his worry. “You all right?”

  “Just another sin to add to my soul.” Jay’s voice was mocking. “Get some sleep, man. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  Reluctantly, West filed out. Jay turned away from Willow. He headed toward the fire. Stared at the flames.

  Willow found that she co
uldn’t move. She felt absolutely rooted to the spot. And her gaze was on Jay’s broad back.

  “Why did you do it?”

  His voice was so rough and hard.

  “Why the hell did you take a bullet…for me?”

  Chapter Three

  She didn’t answer his question. Jay stared into the flames, rage tight in every cell of his body. “Wasn’t it bad enough that I was using you as bait?” He couldn’t look her in the eyes. Just couldn’t do it. “But you risked yourself for me, too?”

  The floor creaked beneath her footsteps. She was coming closer. Her scent—lavender, the woman liked lavender body lotion and he’d freaking bought her a truckload of the stuff, literally—swept over him. His eyes squeezed shut. “You dying wasn’t part of the deal. We were supposed to lure Wyman Wright out into the open. You weren’t supposed to be hurt.”

  “I don’t stay dead. We both know that.” Her voice was soft, confused. “Why are you reacting this way? I saved you. You should be grateful.”

  Grateful? Something inside of Jay just snapped. He spun around and found her close enough to touch. So he did. His hands flew out and wrapped around her slender shoulders. He pulled her against him, hating that he was being rough but unable to hold back his fury. Fury at her. At himself. “Your blood was all over me. I saw you die. I wasn’t grateful. I was fucking in hell.”

  Her eyes were wide. Stunned. “But…but I came back.”

  His hold tightened. “You think watching you die is easy? That shit ripped me open.” He was still raw. “Never again.”

  “Jay—”

  “Promise me.” He’d asked for that promise before. Now he demanded it. “You never do that again. Swear it.”

  But she shook her head. “I won’t.”

  What?

  “You’re not being reasonable. This isn’t like you.” She pulled out of his arms. Stood staring at him, her expression confused. “You’re the logical one. I mean, I understand Sawyer. He’s like me. The darker emotions live in us. They thrive inside because of what was done to us. But you…” Her words trailed away as she shook her head.

  Jay’s mocking laughter escaped him. “Oh, sweetheart, you think the super soldiers cornered the market on dark emotions? Trust me, I can be plenty dark.” He spun on his heel, turning away from her. “Go to bed, Willow. You’ve been through hell tonight.” Because of him.