Evidence of Passion

  “Money can’t buy everything,” Dylan said. His eyes were like black ice. “And it’s sure not going to buy you freedom. You’re going to stay locked up, and everyone will know just what a weakling you are—”

  Chris erupted from his chair. “I’m not weak!” He flew right over the table, tackling Dylan. The two men slammed to the floor.

  Rachel lunged forward.

  But she didn’t need to help Dylan. He’d already tossed Chris off him and Dylan was back on his feet. “Wrong move, kid,” Dylan snarled.

  Breath heaving, Chris glared at him. “No, you made the wrong move. I can make you vanish. Make you disappear, just like I did Patterson—”

  And there it was. The confession that they’d wanted. Dylan had just needed to push the guy past his control in order to get the words that they wanted to hear.

  “One call is all I need to make to my old man act. Just one.” Even as he spit out the last word, Chris’s eyes widened, but it was too late. His fury had driven him to reveal too much.

  “Thanks, genius,” Dylan drawled mockingly. “That was all I wanted to know.” He turned away and glanced at Rachel. “Ready?”

  Because now the trail would take them to Chris’s father. “Definitely.”

  “No!” Chris yelled. “Hell, no! You aren’t going to keep me in here!” His eyes were wild. “I’ve got plans. One way or another, I’m getting out of here! I won’t stand trial again—I’m getting out.”

  “No,” Dylan flatly told him, “you’re not. You won’t be free anytime soon.”

  Chris screamed and ran forward again. Never taking his eyes off Rachel, Dylan struck out with his right hand. When Chris hit the floor, he was out cold. “Now let’s get out of here,” Dylan said. He headed for the door. The guard appeared because he’d never gone far, not really.

  “It was all recorded?” Rachel asked because she had to be sure. After what Chris had done, she wanted him to pay for Patterson’s death. Just as Jack would pay.

  The guard nodded.

  Rachel glanced back at Chris. The guy wasn’t moving. She hoped Chris got used to being locked up because he wouldn’t be a free man again.

  * * *

  THE SUNLIGHT BEAT DOWN on Dylan as they left the military holding facility. They’d cleared all the guard checkpoints and already phoned in their intel to the EOD.

  He opened the door for Rachel, and she slid inside the car. His ride this time, not Thomas’s. A vehicle that came courtesy of the EOD. A tracking device was included with the car so that the other EOD agents could always locate the vehicle.

  In an organization like the EOD, you could never be too careful.

  His hand went to the ignition, but then Dylan paused. He shot a fast glance at Rachel. “Are you going to say anything?”

  She blinked at him. The sunlight streamed through the window, making her skin appear so golden. Rachel was Italian, part of a big, brimming family. A family that thought she worked as a pencil pusher for Uncle Sam. They had no idea what Rachel really did for a living. If they knew, he was sure they’d be terrified.

  Dylan didn’t have to worry about his own family being terrified. He had no family. His folks had passed when he was nineteen and, unlike Rachel, he didn’t have any brothers or sisters.

  Actually...Rachel was the only family he had. The thought slipped through his mind. I’m not alone because I have Rachel.

  “I was certain you’d get the intel from him,” she said with a shrug. “You’re good at your job.”

  Dylan grunted and still didn’t start the vehicle. “I’m not talking about the interrogation. I’m talking about what went down with Mercer earlier.” They’d left the EOD without discussing that little meeting, and he wasn’t going to hold off any longer. They needed to clear the air.

  She held his gaze. “I don’t...” Her words trailed away and she hesitated before saying, “You know I don’t like the plan. And I think Mercer and Noelle are wrong. Jack doesn’t have an attachment to me. He just wants me dead.”

  “If that were the case...” The words were brutal, but they had to be said. “Then why aren’t you in the ground?” Don’t think of her that way. Don’t.

  She flinched. “Start the car, Dylan.”

  He didn’t. “Noelle knows her killers. That’s the point of her being a profiler, right?” Dylan pressed. “She says that he has a connection to you. I believe her. We need to use that connection.”

  “What they want to use is you, not me. They want to dangle you in front of Jack like—like you’re a red flag hanging in front of a bull.”

  “So what? I’ve been used on missions before. I’m an agent. That’s just part of my job.” Risk. Danger. The adrenaline rush. It was his nine-to-five routine. More like my 24/7 routine.

  “They want him to think that we’re lovers.” Now her voice was hushed and her eyes were troubled. “They want you to pretend to be involved with me.”

  He had to handle this carefully. “It’s not exactly a hardship to do that.”

  Her lips parted.

  “I’ve done jobs much worse.”

  And he’d just said the wrong thing. So much for being careful. Dylan knew he’d bungled when her eyes narrowed to chips of blue fire.

  “Oh, so glad that I don’t fall into the category of worse for you,” Rachel snapped. “I mean, I’d hate for the idea of being my lover to be so terrible for you to consider. I don’t want to give you nightmares or anything.”

  “It’s not terrible.” His voice was low. “It’s tempting.”

  She tensed.

  Time for them both to cut through the lies. “You have to know,” Dylan told her, aware that a new intensity had entered his voice. “You have to know how I feel.”

  She glanced away.

  No, he wasn’t having that. He caught her chin and made her look at him. “Come on, Rachel, it’s me. Three years. I’ve been with you, at your side for three long years.”

  She didn’t speak.

  “I want you.” The words were a growling rumble. He’d meant them to come out easier, without that hard edge, but when it came to Rachel and his need for her, there was very little control there for him. “I’ve held back because I didn’t know what you wanted.”

  She still wasn’t speaking.

  Hell, he should have just kept his mouth shut. He’d thought Rachel might want him, too. Especially after the way she’d kissed him the other night.

  I thought wrong.

  He freed her chin and turned away from her. His fingers curled around the key and he twisted it in the ignition. The car immediately snarled to life.

  Rachel’s hand flew out. Her fingers clamped around his. “I want you to be safe. I don’t...I don’t ever want extra danger to come your way because of me.”

  Her touch electrified him. If he ever actually got her naked and beneath him the way that Dylan wanted...

  I won’t let her go.

  He swallowed and tried to keep some of the need from his voice as he told her, “Baby, I’m EOD. Danger is just a way of life for me.” His gaze cut to her.

  Her eyes were on him.

  “What do you want?” Dylan pushed. He waited, needing her to say...

  “I want you.” Her words were so quiet that he had to strain in order to hear them.

  And as soon as he did hear them, everything changed for Dylan.

  He turned fully toward her. Arousal had flooded through him at her soft words. He didn’t want to be in that car then. He wanted to take Rachel away from that place. He wanted to get lost in her.

  Rachel’s thick lashes lowered. “But you’re my closest friend, Dylan. The only man that I truly trust. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “You won’t.” His promise.

  She licked her lips.

 
And Dylan couldn’t take any more. He pulled her as close as he could get her and his mouth took hers.

  The kiss was hard, deep and he knew that the lust he felt for Rachel wasn’t going to be contained, not any longer.

  For three years, he’d played by the rules. Been the good guy.

  He was tired of being good. Rachel was about to learn just how far he would be willing to go in order to have her.

  I will do anything.

  Her mouth opened beneath his. Her nails sank into his shoulders as she held him just as tightly as he held her. Her taste was as addictive as before, driving him wild. His tongue thrust into her mouth, and arousal flooded through him as he tasted her. Her taste was both rich and sweet, and he wanted more.

  But not here. Not now.

  Dylan let the kiss linger just a few moments more. Because he had to take more.

  But then he pulled back. Damn reluctantly. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes gleamed.

  “There’s no going back now,” he warned her.

  Rachel’s breath rushed out. “I should be saying that to you. You’re the one walking into danger.”

  He was ready for it. She needed to be ready for what was coming, too.

  “It’s not...not just part of a cover, is it?” Rachel asked him.

  That question had anger piercing through him. “No.”

  “Because I need honesty between us. No matter what.”

  He nodded. “And you know what I need?” The gloves were off.

  “What?” A whisper from her.

  “You. Naked. Beneath me.”

  He saw her pupils spread. Her breathing kicked up a little more.

  “And I’ll have that,” Dylan promised her.

  * * *

  JACK WHISTLED AS he headed up the stone steps that would take him to his prey.

  An old acquaintance, one who’d called him back to town.

  Jack knocked on the door. He waved to the nosy neighbor across the street. She waved back.

  He didn’t worry about the woman being able to identify him. He had on a baseball cap. A loose sweatshirt. Jogging shorts. He looked like any of the other dozen joggers currently running down the street.

  Only there was one major difference between them.

  He was there to kill. Not to jog.

  The door opened. William “Billy” Harris stood there, his eyes wide. “Who the hell are you?” Billy demanded. “What do you want?”

  Ah, even his old mentor didn’t recognize him. It was amazing how time—and a little surgery—could change a man. Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a playing card. “I’m here to finish our business.”

  Billy’s eyes widened. “Jack?”

  Billy had been the one to first give him that moniker. They’d been playing cards. The pot had been up to three hundred dollars. Billy had been holding three tens.

  But I held all the Jacks.

  He smiled and stepped forward. Billy immediately fell back. Jack closed the door. There was only so much that he wanted the nosy neighbor to see.

  “I...I can’t believe you answered my email,” Billy said as he ran a shaking hand over his head. Billy hadn’t aged so well. He’d once been a fierce soldier, a leader.

  Now his hands shook and his shoulders slumped. The paunch near his middle said the guy didn’t exactly keep up his old exercise routine.

  Ah, Billy, I expected more from you.

  “It was a shot in the dark,” Billy muttered. “But I was desperate.”

  Desperate men would do anything.

  Jack shrugged. “I was due a visit back here.” Rachel waited here. As did other, new business. Lately, it seemed that Jack’s services were in particularly high demand.

  Soon I’ll move on to my next target. A very big kill. Perhaps the most challenging one of his career.

  Yet for now, he had to take care of his current payday and his prey. “You know why I’m here, Billy. I did my part, and you owe me.”

  Billy nodded quickly. “I’ll just go get the rest of your cash.”

  Normally, Jack didn’t conduct his transactions in person. For Billy, he’d made a special exception. He’d let the guy wire half of the payment to him, the upfront money. And Jack had agreed to collect the remainder due in D.C. after the kill had been completed.

  Silently, he followed Billy down the narrow hallway.

  He knew Billy very well. After all, Billy had been the one to turn him on to this line of work.

  The government trained us to kill. Why not use our skills? They’re just going to dump us, to forget us. I say we make sure no one can ever forget just who we are!

  Billy had been drunk at the time and furious over a demotion.

  Jack hadn’t been drunk. He’d been fully aware. He’d seen an opportunity. He’d taken it.

  I get to pick my kills now. And I get paid for it.

  The money had never been sweeter.

  Billy stood in front of his wall safe. He spun the dial, and it snicked open. The cash was in there.

  So was a gun.

  Jack could see the edge of the weapon. And Billy, well, the fool was reaching for it.

  And that’s one of the reasons why you are my prey today.

  Before Billy could swing around with that gun, Jack grabbed the man, and he slammed Billy’s head into the side of the safe. “Wrong move,” Jack whispered. Then he snatched up the gun.

  So convenient...it even had a silencer attached.

  Billy slumped to the floor. Jack put the gun to his head. “Did you truly think you were going to be able to double-cross me?”

  Billy had busted his lip when he’d careened into the safe. Blood dripped from the wound.

  “I’ve been at this game a long time now. You aren’t the first to have this idiotic idea.” Jack shrugged. “But guess what happens to people who try to play me.” His fingers tightened around the trigger.

  Billy shook his head, frantic. “I wasn’t going to shoot you! It was just for protection, just in case—”

  “In case a killer came calling?” He wasn’t in the mood to waste any more time. “Goodbye, Billy.”

  “No!”

  Just as Billy screamed, a loud pounding echoed through the house—a pounding against the front door of Billy’s home.

  Billy’s eyes bulged. “Help me!” he screamed as he lunged to the side. “Help—”

  Jack fired.

  Chapter Four

  “Help me!”

  Dylan’s gaze jerked to meet Rachel’s when he heard the scream, then they moved as one, and they kicked in the door to William Harris’s home.

  Dylan heard the thud of footsteps, running fast and to the left, going toward the back of the house. He raced ahead, following that sound, and he nearly tripped over the body on the floor.

  One glance and he knew it was William Harris. The guy looked just like the photo that had been sent from the EOD. Only in that photo, William hadn’t been bleeding from a gushing wound in his chest.

  Rachel knelt on the floor, moving in close beside the injured man. Dylan heard her calling for backup and ordering an ambulance to the address.

  Dylan didn’t think an ambulance would be able to do much good. William’s shirt was soaking with blood before his eyes.

  “Tried to...get away...” William’s voice rasped out. “Still shot me...chest...not...head...”

  Dylan pinned Rachel with his stare. “You stay with him.”

  Her eyes widened. “Dylan, you can’t—”

  He couldn’t let Jack get away. Dylan lunged toward the back of the house. Jack only had a lead of a few minutes.

  Dylan’s hand slapped against the back door, and the old wood swung open. Dylan jumped onto the narrow patio. His
gaze swept to the left.

  He saw a man scaling a fence. Tall, broad shoulders, wearing a baseball cap, jogging shorts and a sweatshirt.

  And gloves.

  Dylan knew he was looking at Jack. “Stop!” Dylan yelled.

  Of course, the guy didn’t slow down for a second. He heaved over the edge of the fence and ran.

  Swearing, Dylan pumped his legs and headed for the tall chain-link fence.

  * * *

  “LOOK AT ME,” Rachel said as William Harris’s blood coated her fingers. The wound was bad. So very bad. The ambulance was en route, but Rachel didn’t think it was going to arrive in time.

  William blinked. His face was already ashen.

  “Tell me who did this to you.” Because he didn’t have much time left to talk. He was their main lead right then. They needed William to hang on.

  His throat worked, but no words came from his mouth.

  “We know you hired him to kill Patterson. But he turned on you, didn’t he?” She’d seen the safe. Its door still hung open. “What if he decides to turn on your son, too? Do you want Chris to die?” It was the only card she had to play.

  William’s lips moved.

  She put her ear next to his mouth, struggling to hear what he said.

  “J...Jack...”

  Her stomach tightened. “I want his real name. Do you know it? Can you tell me?”

  “P-played me...” The words broke on a gasp.

  I’m losing him.

  “Please!” Her head lifted just a few inches. She wanted to stare into his eyes, but his eyes were shut. “Help me to find him! He shot you...”

  “My...own...g-gun... Almost...g-got h-him...”

  So he’d been planning to kill Jack?

  One double cross for another.

  In the distance, she heard the scream of a siren. “The ambulance is so close,” she told him. “Just fight. Hang on.”

  His breath slid out. “Not...en-enough...”

  No, the ambulance wasn’t close enough.

  “Taught him...t-taught Jack...all...”

  He didn’t say more. His chest wasn’t rising any longer.

  “William? William?” Her knees shifted as she edged closer to him, and that was when she saw the playing card that had been under his right arm.