Hold On Tight (Lazarus Rising Book 6)

“Stop.” One quiet word. “I need a break. A time-out or just some freaking ice cream so I can breathe and think.”

  He froze in place.

  “I’m about two seconds from breaking down into some uncontrollable sobs. Maybe it’s the pregnancy or maybe it’s the fact that you just unloaded a whole world of crazy on me.” She pulled in a deep breath. “I’ve lost my home, special agents are probably searching for me right now, and you—you told me that you didn’t come back for me. You only came back for the baby. So, on top of everything else, I’m hurt.”

  No, no she couldn’t hurt. He wanted to make sure she never suffered a moment of pain in her life. That was why he was back. To protect her. To—

  “Couldn’t you have just come back because you wanted me?” Sadly, Savannah shook her head. Then she walked into the bedroom. Shut the door.

  The click seemed so damn final.

  And he knew that he’d completely screwed his world to hell and back.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Walk away. He should do that. He should give her the space that she needed. Absolutely.

  But…

  Jett strode closer to the bedroom door. He leaned forward, and his forehead pressed to the wood. But he didn’t open the door. He just needed her to know… “I thought about you every single day. And every single night.”

  Silence.

  “When I left you, I didn’t have memories of my life before Lazarus. You had become my life. I would think about you, I would remember your smile with your gorgeous damn dimples or your sweet laugh, and, baby, you got me through some dark days.” There were some things that he wouldn’t tell her. Some stories she was better off not knowing. She didn’t need to know about all of the experiments that had been performed on him. About how he’d been killed and brought back, over and over. About how he’d been used as nothing more than a weapon. How he’d been locked away. Left to burn…

  No, don’t go back there. Stay with Savannah. Stay with her.

  “I’d think about you during the day. Imagine you walking on the beach. Being beneath the sun. And at night, I’d fantasize about you. Imagine you in my bed.” His eyes squeezed shut. “Know how I said cookies and cream was it for me? That once you have the thing you want, nothing else will do? Well, you are the only woman I want. No one else will do for me. You got beneath my skin. I think you got into my very soul, and no, I didn’t come back. I thought about it. I thought about it a million times.”

  She didn’t say anything, but he could feel her on the other side of that door.

  “You were better off without me. I’m not normal. I’ll never be normal. You deserved normal. You deserved a chance to live a regular life. And with me, you weren’t ever going to have that.” His head lifted. His eyes opened. “If I hadn’t found out about the baby, I would have stayed away.” Total truth. “And it would have kept tearing me apart. But here’s the thing, I had to do what was best for you.”

  The door flew open. She stood there, her eyes gleaming with tears. Her cheeks stained with spots of red. Stood there, looking so beautiful she made him ache. And she was glaring with a fantastic fury. “I decide what is best for me. Not you. Me. I do that. And you want to know how I felt without you?”

  He wanted to take her into his arms and never let go. Never. He wanted to hold her so—

  “I felt lost. Abandoned. And betrayed. Because all of the evidence I was given—it all showed me that you had killed my father. There’s a video of you going into his house. Of you calling him a sonofabitch and telling him that something was ending. Then the footage stopped. My father was shot. Execution style. You vanished, and I was left to pick up the pieces.” Her voice had gone ragged, and it tore him apart. “I buried him. And I thought nothing could hurt more than that.”

  “Savannah, the handlers sent me to Mexico right after this case. I didn’t know about his death, not for a while. When I got back, I—”

  “Stayed away. Because it was better for me.”

  “You don’t believe it. But it’s true. It’s true because you’ve never been kept in a cage. You’ve never been—” He stopped. No, don’t tell her those parts. He made sure the shield he had in his mind was strong. He couldn’t let her hear his thoughts, couldn’t take that risk. “I’ll get the ice cream ready.” He turned away from her.

  “I found out I was pregnant a few weeks after I buried my father. Pregnant—with the child of the man who supposedly murdered my father. How do you think that made me feel?”

  He looked back at her. “I didn’t kill him.”

  Her breath came out a long sigh. “I believe that. Maybe I’m crazy—”

  “No.”

  “But you’ve shown me things that are impossible. And I know there is far more going on here than meets the eye. So, when you say you didn’t kill my father, I believe you.”

  His shoulders sagged.

  “But I also believe that you owe me. You owe me because I’ve been in hell, and I’ve been there alone.”

  She was about to rip him apart.

  “So, this is what will happen. You’re going to use that super speed and super strength and super whatever else you have, and you are going to help me catch his killer.”

  He’d expected that reaction from her. “I will do whatever you want.”

  “Because of the baby, right. Got to—”

  No. “Because of you. Don’t you get it? I stayed away to give you a better life. I came back because I need to protect you both. I can’t ever let you suffer because of who I am.”

  Her hand pressed to her stomach, sliding over the towel she still wore. “What if the baby is…like you?”

  His gut clenched. “What will you do?”

  Her eyes widened. “Me? I’ll love him or her just the same. That’s what I’ll do.”

  He couldn’t breathe.

  “Make no mistake, I love this baby. I loved this baby from the moment I knew I was pregnant. Didn’t matter what you had done. Or what I thought you had done. This baby was different. This baby is mine.”

  Ours.

  “I will love this child whether he comes out flying or if she’s a normal baby who doesn’t pull an invisible woman act with shadows.”

  Every muscle in his body locked down. But even as his body locked down, he was making sure all of his mental shields were still in place.

  “What?” Savannah frowned at him. “Why are you looking at me like that? I mean, what did you expect me to say?”

  I’m looking at you this way because I love you. And because that truth had just punched him square in the face.

  “I’m not normal,” Savannah fired back before he could think of anything to say. “I can hear thoughts sometimes. I was put in a mental ward because of that crap.”

  No, not because of that…Another secret. Baby, I am so sorry. A secret he was guarding.

  “I would never let anything like that happen to my child. No one will ever take my baby and lock her or him away. Never. Normal, super powers, what-the-hell ever. I’ll love the baby no matter what.”

  She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his entire life.

  But Savannah wasn’t done. “This is the deal. You and I? First, we’re making sure the person who killed my father pays. We’re going to find the bastard. And then we will do whatever it takes to eliminate the threats to this baby.”

  Fucking beautiful.

  “I hope you have a lot of ice cream,” Savannah muttered. “The baby is hungry.” Then she whirled around. Headed back into the bedroom.

  And never seemed to realize she’d just changed his entire life.

  Wasn’t just lust. Wasn’t just a fierce desire.

  No, the reason he’d been so hooked on Savannah…It was because he loved her.

  And he’d left her. Dammit, just how badly could one man screw up?

  ***

  Jennifer Adams pounded at the front door of Sam Cavanaugh’s freaking, sprawling two story antebellum house. Not his house, not technically. The
too-big, old mansion had belonged to Savannah’s father. But when the guy died, Savannah hadn’t moved in.

  Sam had. Sam had taken over Phillip’s position in the government, and he’d moved right into the dead man’s home.

  Old oak trees lined the curving driveway, and heavy moss hung from their ancient branches. She didn’t like the place. Not one damn bit. Being there had her glancing over her shoulder, to the left and to the—

  The door opened.

  Sam stood there, wearing a pair of jeans and a shirt that was half undone. He was tall, more muscled than she’d realized, and his blond hair was disheveled, as if he’d raked his fingers through it again and again.

  Jennifer didn’t bother with pleasantries. She wasn’t feeling particularly pleasant. “Have you heard from her?”

  Sam started to button his shirt. His fingers weren’t quite steady, something she noticed right away. Jennifer liked to study body language. People lied with words, she’d learned that truth very early on. But their bodies—their unconscious movements could give them away every single time.

  “Her?”

  Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Don’t play dumb. It’s unattractive. And don’t give me one of those lame ass performances that you dish out to your constituents. I’m not buying that crap.” She shouldered her way inside, her arm brushing against him.

  “Well, please, come on in, detective.”

  She glanced back at him.

  He shut the door. Smiled at her. “Heard about your promotion. Congratulations.”

  How had he heard about it?

  Sam shrugged. “You’re tight with my cousin. Probably her most trusted confidant. It only makes sense that I’d like to be certain the person closest to Savannah can be trusted.”

  “I’m a cop. Of course, I can be trusted.”

  But he shook his head. “We both know there is no of course to that. You and I have seen plenty of dirty cops.”

  She didn’t like the jab. “Plenty of dirty politicians, too.” She could make a list right then and there.

  “Agreed.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the door. “But let’s get back to the reason for your late-night visit. And I’m sure it’s not because you’ve just discovered some overwhelming desire for me.”

  “Are you shitting me right now?”

  His lips twitched. “See. No overwhelming desire. Check.”

  She braced her legs. Glared. And tried not to go for the gun holstered at her side. “I’m looking for Savannah. Did she come here tonight? Have you heard from her?”

  “Why would she come here? Savannah hates this place.” He pushed away from the door. Headed toward the room on the left. A room that when she entered it, Jennifer found the furniture covered in white sheets and piles of boxes stacked in the corners.

  “You going somewhere?” she asked, suspicious.

  “Yeah, out of this place. Really not my style.” He flashed her a smile, but the grin never reached his eyes. “Everything here—everything that Savannah doesn’t want—will be sold. The money will be donated to charity. As per her father’s will, the money can go to any charity of Savannah’s choosing.”

  She knew about the contents of the will. The will had been part of the original investigation into the murder of Phillip Jacobs. Who stood to gain from his death? And the only person had been Savannah. “You still haven’t told me if you’ve heard from Savannah.”

  A shrug.

  “Don’t.” Anger blasted in that one word. “Don’t play your games with me. I know that Agent McNeely probably called you the minute I left Savannah’s home. The two of you have been thick as thieves in your secret meetings.” Meetings that had excluded the Biloxi PD. “He told you Savannah vanished, and yet you still stand there, as cool as can be, when your only living family member could be in the hands of a killer?”

  His head cocked to the side.

  She waited for him to lie. She wanted to see what he looked like when he lied.

  “McNeely called me.” Another shrug. “Told me that he suspected Savannah had vanished with Jett Bianchi.”

  “Jett Bianchi is dead. He’s in a cemetery.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t be too sure of that.”

  What? But she shook her head. “Listen, Savannah wouldn’t willingly run away with the man suspected of killing her father.”

  He rubbed his jaw, his fingers scraping over the faint stubble there. ““Even though the guy is the father of her child?”

  He knew about the baby. She hadn’t thought that Savannah had told him.

  “No, she didn’t tell me,” he raked a hand through his hair. “But I have other ways of discovering information.”

  “Agent McNeely—”

  “Is a prick, isn’t he? And I have to tell you, the guy doesn’t really have Savannah’s best interests at heart.”

  “And you do?” Try telling me another story. One I might buy.

  His lips quirked.

  Bastard. “She could be dying right now! This shit isn’t funny.”

  And his face went completely serious. “Jett won’t hurt her. She’s carrying his baby.”

  Was the guy insane? “Two weeks ago, I was called to a crime scene on Japonica Boulevard. A forty-two-year-old man had shot his wife and two kids. I see that same shit too often. Men killing the ones they are supposed to love the most.” She took an angry step toward him. “So don’t you stand there and tell me that Savannah is safe. She’s not. This guy is a suspected killer. He’s a wanted man, he’s—”

  “Not who you think.” And Sam raked a hand through his hair. “He’s Lazarus.”

  “What the hell are you talking about now?”

  “He is Jett Bianchi.”

  “No, the real Jett is in a cemetery.” Why was she having to tell him this again? “He’s dead and buried.”

  “Dead, but not buried. You don’t have clearance for this, I just got it myself, but…hey, what the hell? Not like people will believe you if you go spreading the story.” He rolled back his shoulders. “Jett is part of something called Project Lazarus. He’s a former SEAL who was killed in action, and he was brought back from the dead.”

  “Bullshit.” He was going to jerk her around this way? When she was desperate to find Savannah?

  “He didn’t kill dear old Uncle Phillip, despite what McNeely would like for you to think.”

  He spoke with such confidence. “Do you know who killed Phillip Jacobs?”

  Instead of answering that question, he said, “Jett Bianchi is a trained warrior. He’s the best protection that Savannah can possibly have right now. He is exactly what she needs. So, the fact that she’s with him? Yeah, it doesn’t worry me. It makes me feel better.”

  She stalked closer to him. Only stopped when they were inches apart. “Don’t play with me.”

  “I am absolutely not.”

  “You expect me to believe some BS story about SEALs coming back from the dead? Do I look like a dumbass to you?”

  “No, you look beautiful to me.”

  “You are so fucked up.”

  His expression didn’t change. “You’re in over your head, Detective Adams. And I’m in over my head. When I started going through Phillip’s things, I learned stuff I wish I’d never discovered. When I said I had clearance before? Yeah, I lied. I didn’t have it. They don’t give that to a junior guy like me. But I’m quite good at finding secrets. And I found Phillip’s. I found Lazarus.”

  So he’d lied, and the man hadn’t exhibited a single tell. Not good. “Are you going to help me find Savannah?”

  Sam gave a slow shake of his head. “No, I’m not. Because it will be better for everyone if my cousin just vanishes from the face of the earth.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “There are ten cartons of chocolate ice cream in your freezer.” Savannah slowly shut the freezer and turned to face Jett. “Want to explain that?”

  He sat at the table, near her empty bowl of ice cream. “You like chocolate.”


  “Ten cartons.”

  “I wanted to make sure I had plenty of your favorite on hand.”

  She rested her shoulders against the nearby wall. She’d dressed, putting on an over-sized sweatshirt, a comfy pair of yoga pants, and a pair of tennis shoes that felt like heaven on her feet. Then she’d had one bowl of ice cream. Bliss. Items one and two on her to-do list were done. Now…

  “I want to hear everything,” Savannah told him. “Don’t hold anything back from me.”

  He rose from the table. Took her bowl to the sink. Stood there with his back to her. He’d changed, too. Switched to a new pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. His hair was still wet from the shower. He didn’t turn to face her, but just froze there a moment, as if lost in thought.

  “Jett?” Savannah prompted. He wasn’t going to hold back on her. Not happening.

  “Something changed.”

  That was way too ambiguous. “Don’t be mysterious.” She stalked toward him. “You have info to share. Share it. No smoke and mirrors.” She reached out and touched his arm. “If this is going to work, we need total truth between us.”

  His head turned. He gazed at her fingers. “Total truth? Okay. When you touch me, I want to fuck you.”

  Her fingers jerked, but didn’t pull away. She kept touching him.

  “Actually, when I just see you, I want to fuck you.” Now he was staring straight at her. “It’s pretty much a constant situation for me, whenever you’re around. Figured you should know that.”

  She focused on breathing. Nice, easy breathing.

  “But I get that you don’t want me the same way. When you’re not confused as all hell by what’s happening, you probably hate me.”

  “Don’t.” The word snapped from her.

  His brows rose.

  “Don’t tell me how I feel. You don’t know how I feel.” And hate was the last thing she felt. Did he think he was alone in the crazy fog of lust and desire? No, she felt the same wild need, too. Whenever he was near, she wanted. She ached. But she wasn’t giving in to that need. Would not. Because she had to hear the truth—about everything. Her hold tightened on his arm. “Start by telling me what happened the night my father died.”