Repressed (Deadly Secrets)

  Sam rolled to her side in Ethan’s big bed and sighed in complete contentment.

  Her muscles were sore from the most amazing night with Ethan, but she barely cared. She was so relaxed she didn’t even care that she was alone because she knew he hadn’t gone far. Shifting to her back, she stared up at the ceiling and smiled. He was probably downstairs making her breakfast or getting her coffee or juice. He was always doing little things like that to make her feel special. And she loved him for that. Loved the way he took care of her, loved the way he looked at her, loved everything about him. But mostly she loved the way he loved her, in a way no one ever had before. And she couldn’t wait to see him again and show him just how much that meant to her.

  She climbed out of bed, found a baggy sweatshirt in his closet, and pulled it on. After running her fingers through her hair, she brushed her teeth with a new toothbrush she discovered in his bathroom cabinet, then headed downstairs to look for him.

  The kitchen and great room were empty. Moving through the house, she checked rooms and smiled again when she found him in his office.

  He sat in the chair behind his big desk, his feet bare and perched on the dark surface, his strong legs covered by gray sweats while a blue Mets T-shirt stretched across his toned pecs. A file folder lay open in his lap, a soda can sat on the desk to his right. Tortoiseshell glasses were perched on his nose, and his hair was mussed as if he’d run his fingers through it several times. And even though Sam knew he wasn’t trying to look sexy as he worked, a wicked hot burst of arousal coursed through her just the same.

  “Hey,” she said, stepping into the room. “Am I interrupting?”

  One corner of his lips curled in a sultry smirk. “Not at all.” Dropping the folder on his desk, he lowered his feet to the floor, pushed back, and held out a hand. “Come here, gorgeous.”

  Tingles rushed all over Sam’s skin as she took his hand and let him pull her onto his lap. She relaxed against him, laid her head on his shoulder, and sighed as he wrapped his arms around her. Oh yes, she was definitely getting used to this. Could easily see herself here with him every day.

  “How do you feel?” he asked softly, running his hand up and down her arm.

  “Good. Tired.” Horny. She traced a lazy pattern on his T-shirt. “I missed you this morning.”

  “Sorry. I couldn’t sleep any more, and you looked too peaceful to wake.”

  There he went again, being considerate, making her feel special. She relaxed into him even more, loving the way she seemed to fit against him as if they were made for each other.

  Her gaze strayed toward the can on his desk. “Is that how you get your caffeine in the morning?”

  He chuckled. “No. That’s how I get my caffeine at eleven a.m.”

  “Eleven?” Pushing a hand against his chest, she sat up and looked toward the sun slanting through the glass. “I didn’t realize . . . ” She glanced down at him. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “Because you needed the sleep.”

  “I didn’t even take that sleeping pill your father left.”

  “I know. You can thank me for completely wearing you out later.”

  Smiling, she sank back against him. “I can’t remember the last time I slept ’til eight, let alone eleven.”

  “You obviously haven’t been out partying with my brother Alec.”

  “Late nighters, huh?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve been dive-bombed in some really interesting places because of Alec.”

  She trailed her finger over the logo on his T-shirt. It was silly. She usually shied away from family, but she had a burning urge to know more about his. “Maybe we should try it sometime. I’d love to meet him.”

  “Sorry. Alec gave up his wild ways a few years ago.”

  “That’s too bad. We’ll have to find another reason to stay in bed until 11:00 a.m.”

  Beneath her hip, his erection swelled. “I can think of several reasons to stay in bed until 11:00 a.m.”

  She laughed and turned her lips against his throat, loving this easy, lighthearted moment.

  Unfortunately, though, it couldn’t last. “I, um, need to go home today, Ethan.”

  He tensed beneath her. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay there alone right now.”

  “I agree.”

  “You do?”

  The surprise in his voice made her push back. She nodded. “Until we figure out what’s really going on, I think it makes sense to be cautious. I just want to go pick up a few things and fix the broken front door so the realtor can sell the place.”

  “Okay.” He studied her with narrowed eyes. “I can take you.”

  “I was also hoping”—nerves bounced through her belly as she dropped her gaze to his collar—“that you might have some suggestions for where I can stay. In the meantime, that is. I’m not opposed to a commute to work each day so long as the place is nice. With, oh, I don’t know . . . a fireplace, granite counters, a Jacuzzi tub, and a big soft bed.”

  His lips curled into a sexy, knowing smile, and his hand skimmed her thigh. “I think I know of a place like that.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  He nodded and lifted to kiss her. “It’s got a great couch too. The last woman who spent some time on it was thoroughly satisfied.”

  Desire surged in every cell. “Oh, yes, she was.”

  He leaned in and kissed her, and as Sam wrapped her arms around his shoulders she knew the decision she’d made this morning while brushing her teeth was the right one.

  She drew back, resting her forehead against his, and toyed with the hair at his nape. “I’m not going back to California.”

  “You’re not?”

  She shook her head and leaned back. “You have completely rearranged my priorities, Dr. McClane. I want to stay right here. With you.”

  His hands captured her face, and then his mouth was on hers again, kissing away any lingering doubt. “In that case,” he said when they were both breathless, “you might need to grab more than just a few things from your house.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “All your things.”

  Sam’s heart filled as she looked up into his gorgeous eyes. It was crazy. They’d only known each other a few weeks, but moving in with him felt . . . right.

  He smiled, a sexy, mesmerizing grin that did wicked things to her blood. And sliding his arms around her waist, he lifted her out of the chair. “Wrap those gorgeous legs around me.”

  She obeyed, tightening her hold on his shoulders at the same time. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Our shower.”

  Our . . . She sighed, loving how one small word made everything perfect. “You already had a shower, Dr. McClane.”

  “Yeah, but you didn’t.”

  She laughed. “I have a feeling we aren’t getting to my mother’s house for quite some time.”

  “Now you’re thinking.”

  Standing on Sam’s front porch, Ethan braced a hand against a piece of plywood and hammered a nail into the wood, boarding up the broken sidelight by her door.

  The happiness he’d felt earlier had trickled away as soon as they’d reached her house. He’d been so focused on getting what she’d needed yesterday that he hadn’t taken time to survey the damage. Now it was all he could focus on. Every time he looked at her broken front door or the shambles that used to be her kitchen, he had flashes of Saunders attacking her, of Branson barging in midscene with a gun, and his vision turned red.

  He should have been here. He shouldn’t have left her alone. And the fact that she hadn’t confessed how bad it had actually been made his chest burn. He hadn’t yet asked her about the shredded blouse he’d found in her trash can. But he would. When he could think straight again.

  “Hey, Dr. McClane.”

  Ethan turned and stiffened. “Thomas.” Looking away from the kid, he pulled a nail from between his lips and knocked it into place. “What are you doing here?”

  Thomas moved
up the first step with a backpack slung over his shoulder. “Ms. Parker wasn’t at school yesterday afternoon. I, uh, just wanted to stop by and make sure she was okay.”

  Warning vibrations zinged up Ethan’s arm. The kid might be innocent of what had happened to Margaret Wilcox, but Ethan didn’t like his budding fascination with Samantha. “She’s fine. Too busy to see—”

  The door next to him pulled open, and Samantha stepped out onto the porch with a dish towel in her hand. “Thomas.” Her lips curled in a smile that was anything but suspicious. “What are you doing here?”

  “Hey, Ms. Parker.” He shifted his backpack and looked quickly away from her bruised face. “I, uh, I was on my way home from the library. Just wanted to stop by and see if you needed anything.”

  “That was sweet of you. I’m fine, though.” She ran a finger over her bruised cheek as she stepped out onto the porch. “Word spread, huh?”

  Unease passed over Thomas’s face when he looked up at her. “Yeah. Manny Burton’s dad works at the hospital.”

  “Ah.” Samantha shot a knowing smile Ethan’s way. “I should have guessed. Manny Loose Lips Burton.”

  Thomas chuckled, then kicked at something on the step with the toe of his sneaker. “He’s not that bad. Not that good either, but don’t tell him I said so.”

  Samantha chuckled.

  Ethan gripped the hammer. Why the hell was the kid here? It wasn’t normal for students to check up on teachers.

  “You, ah, need any help here?” Thomas asked, looking up at the broken window.

  “No,” Ethan said quickly. “We’ve got it covered.”

  Thomas looked Ethan’s way, and his gaze dropped to the hammer. His face paled, and he glanced back at Samantha before quickly stepping off the porch. “’Kay. If you need anything, Ms. Parker, I’ll, uh, be around this weekend.”

  “Thanks, Thomas. I appreciate it.”

  He moved down the path, paused, and looked back. “You gonna be at school on Monday?”

  “Should be. Midterms are coming up. I hear your chem teacher’s a total hard-ass, so you’d better study for the exam.”

  “I heard the same thing.” Thomas grinned. “Catch ya later, Ms. Parker.”

  “Bye, Thomas.”

  As soon as the kid disappeared around the corner, Samantha turned toward Ethan and lifted her brow. “What was with that look?”

  “What look?”

  “The one that scared the crap out of the kid and screamed, ‘I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you.’”

  “I don’t trust him.”

  Sam rolled her eyes and sat on the top step. Setting the dish towel on the wooden planks at her side, she frowned. “You worry too much, Ethan.”

  “That’s because you give me reason to worry, Ms. Parker.” Ethan dropped the hammer into the toolbox he’d found in her garage, wiped his hands on his jeans, and sank behind her on the step, sliding his legs around hers as he pulled her back into the heat of his body.

  She sighed and laced her fingers with his against her belly. “He’s a good kid, Ethan.”

  “Yeah, you keep saying that.”

  “Because it’s true.”

  He didn’t want to fight with her about this again. He’d much rather focus on her than the damn juvenile delinquent down the street. He nipped her ear. “Whatever.”

  She laughed and tipped her head to the side so he could kiss her. “I’m not stupid, you know. I know he’s got a troubled past. But . . . ” Her smile faded. “A lot of us do. That doesn’t make him bad. And I know you believe that deep down as well.”

  He did. But when it came to Samantha, Ethan’s objectivity was shot. And he wasn’t willing to put her in any more danger simply because he wanted to believe the kid could be reformed.

  “Fine.” He kissed her neck again. “We’ll just agree not to agree on this one.”

  She frowned as he kissed his way back up to her ear. “It’s just . . . He reminds me of Seth. I think that’s why I don’t see the things you see.”

  Ethan’s lips stilled against her ear, and for a heartbeat, nothing moved. Even the air seemed to come to a screaming halt.

  “Maybe it’s the light-brown hair or that quirky grin. I don’t know.” Sam sighed again. “I’ve always kind of thought he looked like Seth.”

  Ethan’s heart picked up speed, and he lifted his head. “Who’s Seth?”

  “My brother.”

  The air caught in his lungs. “Y-you said you were an only child.”

  “I am. Now.” She squeezed his hand. “I should have told you sooner, and I wanted to tell you last night, I just . . . I have a hard time talking about him.” She drew a deep breath. “Seth was several years older than me, but we were very close. He died when I was ten. My whole life changed the day we lost him. My parents broke up, my dad moved away. Everything crumbled. The day he died was like . . . like the beginning of the end for my family.”

  Sweat popped out on Ethan’s skin, chilling him down to the bone. It couldn’t be the same Seth. Fate was not that cruel.

  “How . . . ” He swallowed hard, tried again. “How did he die?”

  “He drowned. At the falls.” Her voice hardened. “He was murdered. I’m pretty sure it happened the same night Sandra Hollings was killed.”

  Mother of God. Sam’s voice turned to a jumble in Ethan’s head. Tugging his hands from hers, he stumbled back onto the porch.

  Samantha shifted and looked up. “Ethan?”

  Bile rose in his stomach. He had to get out. He had to get out right now.

  “Keys,” he mumbled, turning a slow circle, patting his empty pockets. Where the hell were his keys?

  “Ethan?” Samantha pushed to her feet. “Are you okay?”

  He yanked the door open and walked through the house as fast as his shaky legs would carry him. Where had he left his damn keys? He fumbled through a stack of papers on the table in the kitchen, swiveled, and finally spotted them on the counter.

  Samantha moved into the room. “Ethan? You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

  “I, uh, I have to go.”

  He brushed past her, careful not to touch her in the process, unable to even meet her gaze.

  “Wait.” She trailed after him through the hall and toward the open front door. Grimly followed at her heels. “Ethan. I don’t understand.”

  He jogged down the front steps on legs that felt like gelatin. The ground tipped and swayed. Air whooshed out of his lungs as he crossed the yard, pulled the car door open, and fell behind the wheel. One look up told him Samantha was standing on the porch, staring after him with wide and confused eyes.

  And in that one look, his heart crashed against his ribs and shattered at his feet.

  “I’m sorry, Samantha. God, I’m . . . ” His throat grew thick, and unable to finish, he pulled the door shut and tore out of her drive.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Ethan stared out at the water beyond the dock on his parents’ property, barely seeing any of it.

  The small lake was surrounded by homes with big yards and towering trees. Those trees were mostly empty now as he sat on the end of the dock with his legs hanging over the water, a lot like his soul. Wind rustled fallen leaves along the bank, but he didn’t turn to look. Couldn’t seem to do anything but sit and stare and think about all the ways the past had come back to nail his ass.

  “Put this on.” Michael McClane’s voice echoed from above just as a coat dropped in Ethan’s lap. “Your mother’s watching from the kitchen window.”

  Ethan looked down at the jacket, knowing it wouldn’t do anything to warm the cold place in his heart. But for his father—for his mother—he slowly shrugged his arms into the sleeves.

  Easing down to sit on the end of the dock next to him, Michael braced his hand on his thigh and stared out at the water. He didn’t speak, didn’t ask, but that was just like Ethan’s dad. The man never pushed. Not once in all the years Ethan had known him had Michael McClane ever rushed anything. He le
t the problem at hand work its way to the surface. And considering he’d raised three juvenile delinquent boys and an emotionally screwed-up girl, there had been numerous problems. And altercations. Only, he’d never lost his cool, not once in all that time.

  Not like Ethan was doing now.

  “Samantha is Seth Raines’s sister,” Ethan finally said.

  “Are you sure?”

  No surprise. God, nothing rattled this man. Ethan’s heart contracted, and he closed his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Does she know who you are?” Michael asked softly.

  “I don’t think so. We were at her house today, and she started talking about Seth, and I . . . shit, I bolted like a freaked-out thirteen-year-old. I couldn’t even breathe.”

  He opened his eyes and looked out at the water. “I knew, dammit. I knew there was something going on with her, but I was so focused on helping her get through those nightmares that I didn’t even think it could be this. She changed her name, Dad. She never talked about her family. I mean . . . I was a kid then. I didn’t know where the Raines family lived. I never in a million years would have gone out with her if I’d thought there was a chance she was Lynne Raines.”

  Michael placed a gentle hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “You need to tell her.”

  “I know.”

  “No.” Michael tightened his grip. “You need to tell her soon. I don’t think you understand the ramifications of this.”

  “Ramifications?” Ethan looked toward his father. “What could possibly be worse than my telling her that I went to juvenile detention for killing her brother?”

  Worry filled Michael’s eyes. “I know that seems bad, but there’s more to this, Ethan. At the end of the hypnosis session last night, Samantha was talking to someone. She said she didn’t remember who that was, but I could tell she was lying. She knows something more, Ethan. She just wasn’t telling us.”