Sawyer looked ready to argue.
“Let them on,” Elizabeth urged as she touched Sawyer’s shoulder. “Let them both on.”
Jaw locking, Sawyer let Jay on the chopper. Jay held tight to Willow.
Cecelia focused on Flynn. The chopper lifted up, bobbing and weaving, and she held him tighter. How long would he be out? Sawyer seemed so certain that Flynn would wake up, but what if he didn’t? Oh, God, what would she do if he didn’t come back?
“It’s a fucking good thing your buddy Benjamin had a roof big enough for this chopper!” Jay yelled. “Remind me to thank the guy when I see him again.”
She had no idea where Benjamin was. Was he safe? The last time she’d seen Ben, Jay had been carrying him through Sin.
The chopper flew above the city, and she stared down at Flynn, willing him to come back to her. Willing him to just open his eyes and look at her. “Please,” she whispered. “Please come back to me.”
But his lashes were still against his cheeks. His body was slack against her. She put her head over his chest, right over the heart that wasn’t beating. Tears slid down her cheeks because this was death. This was exactly what death looked like. What it felt like. Cold and still and empty.
Pain cut into her. He’d been killed. Right in front of her. Just taken from her. He’d fought, damn him, he’d fought until he weakened Bryce enough for the bastard to be taken out. Flynn had risked himself…
For her.
“You’d better wake up. Wake up!”
In her mind, she was screaming. Begging. Please come back to me. I need you. I love you, and I didn’t tell you, and I want to be able to say the words. I want to look in your eyes when I do. I want to see you smile. I want to give you a better life than the one you lost. I want to start again, I want—
She felt the tremble beneath her ear.
A tremble, a stutter…then a beat. His heart. His heart!
She didn’t lift her head away from him. In fact, she pressed it down harder against his chest, wanting to hear that precious beat again and again. And she did. His heart kept beating. Stronger, faster. And her own heart matched his rhythm.
Then his fingers were sliding over her hair, rubbing her back, holding her.
His touch melted the ice around her. Her head lifted, and she stared into his eyes. His unforgettable, golden eyes. “I love you,” Cecelia said.
Chapter Seventeen
“You were so scared when you were tied to that chair on that long-ago day. Poor little good girl. He wanted to use his knife on you. It was that fear that let me in. I can smell fear. It’s such a strong emotion. My favorite of the emotions, really. I rode that fear right into your mind, and I’ve been there ever since.”
Flynn knew he was trapped in a dream. He knew he was in her dream. His Cecelia. Only it wasn’t a dream. Not really. It was a horrible mix of nightmare and memory. He saw her, standing on the rooftop of Sin. She was watching him and Bryce as they battled each other.
“Not even death can get me out of her mind.” Bryce’s eyes were wild. “I’ll be the fear that makes her wake up screaming. It will be my name on her lips. Always.”
He fired his bullets at Bryce, knowing that if he weakened the guy from blood loss, it would be easy enough to put the final bullet in his brain. But…
Bryce appeared right in front of Flynn. His hand flew out and locked around Flynn’s throat. “You’re…out of ammo.”
A fucking unfortunate truth. And Flynn was weak. So damn weak. Bullets were lodged in his back, and it had been all he could do to stand up. With every second that passed, he’d grown weaker and weaker. He didn’t even have the strength to break free of Bryce’s grasp. He could barely hold up the gun. Flynn had known he didn’t have much time left. But he’d still tried to fight. He’d glared at Bryce and said, “You might have dodged the head shots, but you’ve got four bullets in your chest. Your body is going to shut down, and you’re going to fall any second.”
Only Bryce wasn’t falling, not yet. The bastard was taunting him, and Flynn’s body just grew weaker.
Cecelia screamed.
Bryce snapped his neck.
Flynn saw himself fall. Saw his body slide down as if in slow motion, and he heard Cecelia’s scream echo around him. Her scream was wild with pain and rage, heartbreaking sorrow. For an instant, he felt her gut-wrenching pain. Her loss.
Then in the dream, he watched as both he and Bryce fell. Only while Flynn was lying there, his neck twisted, Bryce…
“I’m not…out c-cold…”
Bryce dragged his body toward Cecelia.
“Still awake…still g-gonna have y-you…”
Horror covered her features. But she’d grabbed a weapon from the shadows—Bryce’s own gun. She clutched it with rock-steady fingers. “No, you’re not.”
Bryce kept crawling toward her. “N-never be free…” he whispered. “Always…in…y-you…”
A gunshot blasted.
***
Flynn’s eyes flew open. His breath heaved in and out, and his hands rose to his neck. Not twisted any longer. Fuck, fuck. He was okay now. He was alive. Again.
“I love you,” Cecelia whispered.
His head whipped toward her. She was still sleeping. Her eyes were closed.
He sucked in a deep breath. One, then another. They were in the middle of the Smoky Mountains. At a cabin that looked more like a resort—typical Jay style. A heavily secured resort. He and Cecelia were in the bedroom on the third floor, and she was sprawled with him in the king-sized bed. They’d both collapsed after the helicopter had finally brought them to the new safe house.
His body had been wiped out, and he’d barely been able to walk. It took time to recover fully from a “death.” Flynn had gone to bed, making sure that Cecelia was at his side.
Then he’d slipped into her mind again.
Her dream. Their nightmare.
His knuckles slid over her cheek. “Baby, baby, wake up.”
Her eyes snapped open. She stared at him, her eyes wide and sad and scared, and then she blinked the sleep away and focused on him. Cecelia shot up in bed, and she locked her arms around him, holding tight. She shuddered against him. “Don’t you ever die on me again.”
He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent. “Not planning on it.”
“Don’t give me a smart-ass answer like that!” She pushed against him so that she could lift her head and stare into his eyes. Sunlight trickled through the window. “Don’t die. I wasn’t sure you’d come back. I saw you fall, and it seemed like everything just stopped.”
But she hadn’t stopped. She’d shot Bryce. She was the bravest woman he’d ever met.
Was it any wonder he’d fallen so hard for her?
“What was it like?” She stared up at him now, her breath coming too fast, and her heart beating too quickly. “When you were gone—and you were gone—did you…see anything?”
Life and death. He’d crossed that line, and they both knew it.
“I saw you.” And that was the truth. She was all that he’d known. In his mind, he’d seen her, and that had been paradise.
He’d wanted to get back to her. He’d needed her. He’d had a strange flash of them together, laughing and hugging on a wide, white porch. They’d been sitting on a wooden swing, holding hands, and…a little boy had been playing soccer on the lawn in front of them.
He had no memories of his past, and it seemed—hell, he didn’t know what it seemed—but when he’d died, he’d had a flash of her…and that little boy.
A future that he hoped to God they had.
Paradise. Sometimes, it was right in front of you. Waiting for you to grab tight to it with both hands.
“Do you have any idea,” Flynn asked as he slid his fingers into the thickness of her hair, tipping her head back more, “how much I love you?”
“Flynn…”
“I want to make a life with you, Cece. I want a home. I want a family.” She was his family. “I th
ought Lazarus had taken everything away from me. I thought I was empty, I thought I was just a weapon, then I met you, and everything changed for me.” His heart was racing in a rhythm to match hers. “I can be a good man for you. I can be what you need—”
Her hands curled around his shoulders. “You are what I need.”
She was everything he wanted.
Flynn’s mouth took hers. The kiss was slow. Gentle. Sweet. He wasn’t fighting the darkness inside of himself, wasn’t savagely trying to hold onto his control. Cecelia gave him control because he wanted to put her first. He wanted to take care of her. He wanted to love her.
Always.
They were both naked already. He’d washed the blood off his body before he’d fallen into bed with her. No clothes meant there was nothing to slow him down.
He kissed the curve of her jaw. He kissed her neck, right over her racing pulse. Then he moved down, down, stroking her breasts, licking her nipples, making her moan and arch beneath his hands and mouth.
And still, he stayed gentle.
His cock was heavy and aching, and he wanted to drive deep into her, but first…
He tasted. He put his mouth on her sex. He licked. He kissed. He stroked with his fingers and his tongue, and when she was pushing up her hips, when she was panting out his name, then he put the head of his erection at the wet, hot entrance to her body.
But he didn’t drive into her. Not yet.
Instead, he caught her fingers. Their hands threaded together. Their eyes held.
It was just him. Just her.
Just love. Something he hadn’t thought he’d find…
He thrust into her, their bodies moved, not fast, but slow. Sensuous. Drawing out the pleasure. Savoring it. Flynn rolled on the bed, moving Cecelia on top of him so that he could watch her. Their hands were still locked. She rose, sliding up and down, the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
Her breasts thrust toward him. Her nipples were tight and perfect. He heaved up and licked them again because he was addicted to her taste. He licked her even as he stroked her clit with his fingers, and she came, choking out his name, gasping for him.
Her sex gripped his cock even tighter as she climaxed. She felt so fucking good. He still didn’t come, though, because he didn’t want the moment to end. He wanted to wait, wanted to savor—
She kissed him. Licked his lower lip and then darted her tongue into his mouth. She kept arching her hips against him, and Flynn was fucking helpless.
He kissed her and he came, and he knew what a lucky bastard he was.
He’d gotten a second chance. Hell, maybe it was a third chance—he didn’t know. Death hadn’t held him in its cold grip. He’d broken free, and now, now he had a life waiting for him.
A life with the woman he loved.
***
“What is going to happen to me?” Willow asked. Her head was down, and her shoulders were hunched as she sat on the side of the narrow twin bed.
Jay wasn’t in the room with her. He wasn’t about to take that risk. But he wasn’t watching her via a computer screen either. He stared at her through a large pane of glass. “I don’t know yet.”
Behind him, Sawyer whistled. “You are one conniving bastard, aren’t you?”
Jay’s shoulders stiffened. He hadn’t heard the guy enter his observation room. Not real surprising, though, considering Sawyer could move—and kill—without making a sound.
When he turned, he saw Sawyer staring at him with fury stamped on his face. Aw, hell. “It’s really not what you think,” Jay began.
“How many of these super soldier holding cells do you have around the country?”
“First, it’s not a cell. It’s a room, it’s—”
Sawyer leapt across the room and grabbed him, fisting Jay’s shirtfront and yanking him forward. “It’s a cell. I know because I was in one just like this at Lazarus. You think I don’t recognize the one-way glass? And the fact that it has to be strong enough to contain a super soldier…shit, it’s the same technology that was at Lazarus. It’s—”
“It’s my technology,” Jay confessed in a rush. “It was always mine.” Because he didn’t just do computers. He had his hands in all sorts of industries.
Sawyer growled.
“Let him go, Sawyer,” Elizabeth announced. Jay hadn’t heard her enter, either. He must have been really damn distracted by Willow.
Sawyer glanced back at Elizabeth. “He lied to us.”
“Yes.” Elizabeth crossed the room with a soft pad of her steps. “And now I want to hear the truth.”
Sawyer glared back at Jay. “I just want to hurt him.”
She patted Sawyer’s shoulder. “Maybe we’ll do that, too, but first, let’s start with the truth.”
Sawyer let him go.
Jay knew he was sweating.
“Everyone will want to hear this.” Elizabeth folded her arms over her chest. “So let’s go into the den.” Her gaze was sad as she stared at Jay. “I trusted you.”
“Beth, shit, it’s not what you think! I did it for you! I knew you wanted Lazarus to work, so I gave the money to—”
Sawyer’s fist slammed into Jay’s face. Jay flew back and hit the one-way glass. His face hit freaking hard, and when he opened his eyes, he found Willow staring back at him. He knew she could hear everything that they said in the observation room. He hadn’t put in soundproofing. Hadn’t had the time.
She stared at him, and there was hate in her blue eyes. “You did this to me?”
Could she see him through the glass? Hear him, yes, but she wasn’t supposed to see him—
A tear leaked down her cheek. “You made me into a monster.”
Sawyer grabbed Jay’s arm and yanked him away from the glass.
***
“I could feel him…sometimes.” Cecelia stared up at the ceiling. Flynn was beside her, his body so warm and strong, and she felt safe. “Like a shadow slipping across my mind. Fear would come. A weight of darkness, but…”
“He’s gone, Cece. Dead. He won’t ever hurt anyone again.”
Her head turned. “He said he’d always be in my mind.”
“Baby—”
“But he’s not. I control what’s in my mind. I won’t forget him, and I’m not saying that I won’t still have nightmares. Nightmares just like the one I had tonight. But you know what? A nightmare can’t hurt you. He can’t hurt me anymore. And I won’t let him be in my head every damn moment. I won’t let him control me.” Each word was stronger than the last. “When I have nightmares, I’ll wake up. I’ll see what’s right next to me—”
“I’ll be next to you.” His gaze was unwavering. She could see the love in his stare. “It’s the only place I want to be.”
She felt the smile spread on her lips. Their life wasn’t going to be picture perfect, she knew that. They both had their own darkness to face. Pain to endure. But…
They also had each other. And as long as they did, they were stronger than any threat out there.
As long as they had each other, they’d win.
A sharp rap sounded on the door.
Flynn growled. “Heard ‘em coming, but I thought they’d have the sense to leave us alone!” he yelled.
“Need you both downstairs. If, that is, you want to hear about Wyman Wright and Jay’s connection to the bastard,” Sawyer stated flatly, his words carrying easily through the shut door.
Cecelia tensed. Her gaze was still on Flynn. His was on hers. “I…think we need to hear this.”
Jaw hardening, he nodded. She started to slip from the bed, but he caught her hand, stopping her.
“Whatever we hear, whatever we learn…” His hold tightened. “It changes nothing between us. You are my priority. The thing that matters most to me. Nothing will separate us. Not Wyman. Not Lazarus. Not secrets. It’s you and me, until the end.”
“You and me,” she whispered.
“Hell, yes.”
He rose from the bed. Her gaze fell on his back. Eliza
beth had taken the bullets out of his back on the helicopter. Five bullets.
Bullets in the back and a broken neck.
A normal man would have died—stayed dead.
Thank God Flynn wasn’t normal. She reached out and touched his back. He stilled. She put her mouth against his warm skin. “I love you.” She wanted him to understand this. “I love you, exactly as you are.” There wasn’t a single part of him that she feared.
Super strength. Psychic power. His ability to rise from the dead? None of that scared her. The only thing that terrified her—it was the idea of losing him.
He turned toward her. He bent his head and kissed her once more.
Chapter Eighteen
When Cecelia entered the den, she found Elizabeth and West both glaring at Jay. Aaron sat on the couch, dark shadows lining his eyes. He wasn’t glaring. Poor Aaron looked shell-shocked. She knew Jay had hacked the guy’s ankle monitor. The FBI thought Aaron was safe and sound back in D.C. The Bureau couldn’t be more wrong.
As for Jay…
His jaw was already turning purple. He jumped up when he saw her approach. “Okay, look, everyone, stop staring at me like I’m public enemy number—”
“You punch him?” Flynn asked as he glanced at Sawyer. Sawyer had trailed them into the den.
Sawyer nodded. “My temper might have slipped.”
Flynn’s body tensed. “Not fair. If you get to hit, so do I.”
Jay backed up—five steps. “Listen! Listen! I funded Lazarus originally, okay? Or, I mean I helped fund because Wyman Wright had more than just one donor lined up.” His gaze swung to Elizabeth. “I knew what the program meant to you. I wanted to help. I had no idea it would turn into such a nightmare.”
“Playing with life and death?” Cecelia charged as her hands fisted at her sides. She wanted her punch, too. “And you didn’t think there could be repercussions?”
Elizabeth flinched. Her face paled. “He’s not the one who invented the formula. We all know that was me. I did this.”
Aaron swore and lurched to his feet. “I need a drink. Maybe two.”