Forgotten Sins

Chapter 19

Shane slipped out of the SUV, his gaze on the quiet cabin. Blood covered his clothing from his interrogation. Was Josie already asleep? “I just need to walk for a minute.”

Nathan shut his door and tossed a flask at him. “Drink.” Highlighted by the moon, he leaned against the Jeep’s grill, arms crossed. Broad and dangerous, even leaning he didn’t appear remotely relaxed.

Shane unscrewed the cap and took a hit of Bourbon. The blend burned down to his gut.

“Now, talk.” Nathan didn’t move an inch from his position.

Shane shuffled his feet and threw back the flask. “You talk. I need to know about my past.”

Nathan turned, pinning him with a dark gaze. “How’s your gut? Your head? Your legs?”

His gut hurt, his head spun, and his legs felt wobbly. “Fine. Why?”

“I’ll hit you if I have to, Shane. I’d rather not.” Nathan tipped back his head and drank.

Shane jerked his head. “I feel sick.” Now. But while he’d been interrogating George, he’d been calm as a dead pond. “I knew just how to get answers from that bastard.” Frankly, he’d scared the shit out of himself. Well, afterward. During, he hadn’t felt a damn thing.

Nathan wiped off his bottom lip. “Our training is good.”

“We’re not normal.” There was no way they were normal. “God. The things he could do—the things he would do. He was a fucking abomination.

“Not even close.”

“Tell me.” Shane steeled himself for the blow.

“Take a shower, wipe off the blood, and then Matt and I will tell you everything.” Nathan slid the flask into his boot. “You should spend time with your wife before you have to leave her again.”

Heat roared through him. “I’m not. Not leaving her again.”

“Yes, you are.” Nate shook his head. “Our war is just starting, and she’ll get killed. Then you won’t be able to function at all.”

Shane coughed. “So it was never meant to be permanent?”

Nate sighed, glanced down at his boots. “I think it was—I think you wanted to take a chance on forever.”

“I still do,” Shane said softly. But at what cost? Bad people were after him, and they’d probably go right through her to get to him. What about his brothers? “It’s always been just the four of us, hasn’t it?”

“Except for a short time, yeah.” Nathan pushed away from the Jeep. “We fight for each other, we kill for each other, and we’d die for each other. Sometimes, that’s all you get.”

Shane lifted his head as his memories finally cleared. “If I lose her, I weaken and put you all in danger.” They were each other’s weak spots. Always had been.

“Yes.”

“Is that why I let her go?” The thought of letting her go again made him want to punch the Jeep. Hard.

“No. You left to find out what happened to Jory.” Nathan pivoted to stride toward the cabin. “We need to unlock your memories to find what you discovered.”

“Nathan, I don’t think I can let her go.”

“You don’t have a choice,” his older brother said, not turning around.

Shane shut his eyes for a moment. His gut hurt worse than when he’d tortured George. Steeling his shoulders, he opened his eyes and followed his brother into the cabin.

The rain beat against the window of Josie’s bedroom, and she snuggled down under the heavy comforter. She and Matt had quickly eaten sandwiches for dinner before spending several hours putting together an impressive array of computer and surveillance equipment. After Matt had carefully bandaged her wounded fingers, of course.

The sprawling cabin was luxurious rather than rustic and sported five bedrooms with attached baths as well as a large playroom. The pool table had beckoned her, but she decided to go to bed. Her jaw ached.

She heard a door somewhere in the house open and close. Male voices echoed. Shane and Nathan had arrived. They spoke for several moments with Matt before heavy footsteps sounded down the hall. Closer and closer. The door opened.

She sat up in bed. “Hi.”

Shane shut the door, kicking off his boots. “Hi.” He stalked into the bathroom. The shower surged on.

Unease wound through her. Why did he need a shower? She scrambled out of bed, hurrying to the bathroom. Sliding inside, she studied his clothes lying on the tightly woven bath mat. His black shirt appeared all right, but dark stains marred his faded jeans. Blood.

She pushed the door open farther, striding inside. Thick stone lined the large shower behind a glass door. Shane stood, his back to her, one hand against the tiles, his head lowered as the water beat against his neck. Steam rose. “Either get in with me, or get out.”

No warmth, no kindness existed in his matter-of-fact tone. A quiver ran through her legs. She ignored her fear, stepping over his clothing. “Did you kill George?”

“No.”

“Good. Did you call the police?”

“No.” Shane didn’t move.

They needed to call the cops. Someone had killed Billy, probably George. “I’ll call them, then.” She pivoted to go.

The glass door shot open, and two strong hands grabbed her biceps, pulling her against a wet chest. Shane dropped his head closer to her ear. “No cops.”

She struggled, swinging around to face him. His rugged face appeared cut from granite, his eyes a hard, cold gray. “What did you do?” Her voice came out a croak. She tried to take a step back, but he kept her in place.

“What I had to do.” No emotion, no expression rode his tone. No concern whatsoever for his nudity.

“Did you kill him?” She had to know. Was Shane a cold-blooded killer?

He sighed. “No. I didn’t kill him.” The pads of his fingers caressed her arms as he wandered down to her hands. “We let him go.”

She frowned. “Bullshit.” The stained clothes at her feet whispered another story. “There’s blood on your clothes.”

Shane’s smile lacked warmth. “I didn’t say he wasn’t bleeding. He bled.” Shane reached out and ran a gentle knuckle along her bruised jaw. “For this alone, he deserved to bleed.”

A shiver shook her entire body. “I don’t understand.” Even through fear, desire awakened.

“I know.” The shower sprayed behind Shane, sending steam to coat the mirror over the sink. “Torture isn’t a distance game, sweetheart. It’s close and personal—even intimate. Believe me. George told me everything he knew. So I let him go.”

Nausea swirled in her stomach. Who was this man? She shook her head. “I don’t believe you let George go. There’s no reason you’d let him go.”

Shane stepped even closer, his body almost touching hers. “I promised I wouldn’t kill him, so I didn’t. I let him go because he’s seen Nathan. My so-called attorney. He also saw Mattie. If we called the cops, we’d have to explain. There’d be records, and right now we can’t have that.”

“What about Billy?”

“He’ll be discovered.”

“Who are you, Shane?” He stood before her. Naked, strong, and sure. She’d made the claim to Matt that she wanted to keep Shane. But could you keep someone you didn’t know? Once again, she was on the outside looking in. Looking into an incredibly dark world. Shane’s world.

“I’m the guy you married, angel. The guy you love.” His lips took hers. Soft, seductive, so sexy. Teasing and tempting. The coldness fled, to be replaced by heat. He lifted his head, his eyes glittering with hunger.

She shook her head against temptation. Need trapped a groan in her throat. “But George killed Billy.”

“No.” Shane’s gaze dropped to her throbbing lips. “He was as shocked as you by the dead body.”

“He lied to you, Shane.”

“He didn’t lie. Believe me, he told me the truth.” Dead certainty colored Shane’s words. “Interrogation is one of my specialties, sweetheart.”

Her hands went clammy. “So who killed Billy?”

“George was hired by a man named Max. My brothers are trying to find out who Max is right now. Max probably killed Billy, and I promise you, I’ll find him.”

“What file did George want?” Her mind had been spinning and she couldn’t find an answer.

“He didn’t know which file. George was supposed to call his boss once you two were in the office for more direction.”

Darn it. There was no way she could figure out which file everyone wanted. Josie’s head began to hurt. “I have to figure this out.”

“I’ll look into it.”

“No. I will.” Her brain began to click facts into order. “So George failed.”

Shane’s eyes narrowed. “George’s job was to ride the elevator up and down all day, waiting for a chance to get to you. You gave him the opportunity.” Shane’s jaw tightened. “Next time I tell you to stay someplace, you damn well better do it.”

“Or what?”

Shane jerked his head back, surprise flashing through his deep eyes. “Excuse me?”

“You’re always telling me what to do, Shane. I’m tired of it.” She jerked out of his hold. For better or worse, she’d made a vow to him. His world was dark, and maybe she could bring some light into it. Even a little. “I’m tired of you thinking I’m too soft. That I can’t handle myself.”

“So you can handle yourself, can you?” A low warning threaded through his deep tone.

Pinpricks scattered along her skin. She sensed a trap hidden in the innocuous words. But she tilted her chin. “Yes. I can.”

“Good.” His smile could never be considered kind. “Let’s see you handle yourself.” He grabbed her arms, lifted her against him, and stepped into the shower.

“Hey—” she protested as she slid down his hard body and dampened her pajamas.

He pivoted and the pelting spray drenched her back.

Fire slammed into her abdomen. She struggled. “Damn it, Shane.” He wanted to see her skills? Fine. Wounded fingers curled into a fist, which she shot toward his throat.

Shane dodged, allowing the blow to glance off the side of his neck. “Impressive.” One arm wrapped around her bare waist while the other whipped off her top. Her breasts sprang free, her nipples already pebbling with need.

She struggled against both Shane and desire, punching him in the shoulder. Pain ricocheted up her arm.

Shane dropped her to her feet. “If you hurt yourself, I’m going to be seriously pissed off.” He shoved her sopping pajama pants and panties down, lifting her with one arm and yanking them out of the way.

Oh, this should so not be turning her on. Her breath came faster. Her heart beat harder. Temper battled with need. Her body fought with her mind, with her stubborn will. “Who the hell do you think you are?” Maybe she should aim for his knee. The temptation to knock him on his ass, just once, narrowed her focus into sheer determination.

“Your husband.” He jerked her to him, his body hard against hers. Taking her mouth, his tongue shot past her lips, commanding a response.

A whimper lodged in her throat.

One thick hand tangled in her hair, tugging her head to the position he wanted. He went deeper. His mouth claimed, his tongue possessed. An odd sense of desperation hinted in his kiss.

Without warning, he flipped her around, placing her hands on the smooth tile. His tongue flicked the shell of her ear. “Is your jaw all right?” Rough and hoarse, his voice triggered liquid need to coat her thighs.

“Fine.” She pushed back against him, her bare butt against his erection. Her eyelids fluttered shut.

He grabbed her hip, holding her still. His other hand flattened against her belly, sliding up across her breasts to her throat. Flames licked her skin. He cupped the unbruised side of her jaw, and tugged back, stretching her neck. “Keep your hands on the tile.”

He held her immobile, resting her head against his shoulder and dipping his mouth to her exposed jugular. His warm palm curved around her neck, holding her where he wanted her. His teeth sank into the soft area of her shoulder. Marking her.

Her thighs quivered. A spiraling started deep inside, and she pushed back against him.

A sharp slap against her ass had her crying out. “Stay still.”

She stiffened, too many emotions whipping through her to concentrate on just one. An edge had always existed in Shane, especially in the bedroom. But something had been let loose. A wildness, a darkness she’d always suspected he hid. His memories were returning, and yet he hadn’t retreated behind that wall.

Maybe things could be different this time.

His mouth found her ear to nip her earlobe. Tingles sprang up on her skin as he covered her breasts, tweaking both nipples before sliding south. Parting her, he slipped two fingers into her heat. “You’re so hot for me.”

Her knees softened. She pushed her flattened hands harder against the tiles, trying to maintain balance. To maintain control. He angled his palm, sliding against her clit. She cried out. Too much. She needed him now.

He chuckled hot breath against her ear, the sound wicked and arrogant. “We stayed at a hotel with a small pool once. Right?”

Her sex clutched around his dangerous fingers. “Yes. You remember?”

“The water, you, the steam… a memory is coming back.” His erection jerked against her ass. His fingers played, crisscrossing inside her. His other hand kneaded her breast, concentrating on rolling the nipple between two fingers. “We made good use of that pool. You screamed my name as you milked me dry.”

Yes, but he’d been so gentle, even then. She hadn’t wanted gentleness. She’d wanted him. Memories flashed through her mind, showing how very different he was now. Man, she wanted him like this. “Shane, please.”

“Ah, angel. I love how sweetly you ask.” Bending over her, he slid a rough palm down her hip and leg, lifting her knee to place her foot on the narrow bench. A quiver began around his fingers. He withdrew and she hissed in protest. “Not yet,” he murmured, “We have a few things to get straight first.”

Focus. Her mind spun while her body throbbed. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re in danger, and you’re going to let me handle it.” He pressed against her entrance, sliding forward so slowly, too slowly. She pushed back against him, crying out when he filled her. Both eyes opened wide.

Muscles vibrated in her shoulders as she straightened her arms, taking more of him. Taking all of him.

He groaned against her ear, his body protecting her back from the hot spray. “You’re a dangerous woman, Mrs. Dean.”

Her laugh came out strangled. “I appreciate that, Major Dean.” She tilted forward and then slammed back.

His hands instantly clasped her hips, keeping her in place. “Slow down, darlin’.”

“No.” She struggled against his hands, causing sparks of pure pleasure to ripple along the sensitive nerves holding him captive.

His indrawn breath made her smile in triumph. She did it again.

“Damn it, Josie. I want to talk.” But he slid out and then impaled her.

She closed her eyes. Fire sheeted white behind her eyelids. Using the wall for leverage, she pushed back, throwing her head against his shoulder, biting her lips.

Shane snapped. With a growl, he dug his fingers into her hips, yanking her against him. Then he started to pound. Harder and faster than ever before. Furious and forceful, he settled his mouth at the base of her neck. He was finally being himself, finally taking her like she needed. For the first time, she felt like he was hers—completely. All of him belonged to her and her only.

She cried out, the delicious friction so fierce her breath caught on the scream. Pleasure stabbed through her at his relentless strokes. Need whipped along her nerves to the point of pain. The pinnacle she needed to crest or die.

His hand slid down and found her clit.

Fire ripped through her nerves. She broke, tumbling over. Her mouth opened on a silent scream as she arched her back, letting the overwhelming pleasure ripple through her. She sobbed his name.

With a tightening of his hold, he pounded harder. Faster. His large body tightened around her as he came, his breath hot at her ear. Finally, he stopped moving, remaining inside her, his heart beating a rapid tempo against her back. “I love you, angel.”

The words were soft.

The tone possessive.

The promise absolute.

Shane tossed in the big bed, wandering through the twilight between dreams and reality. His brain relaxed, and he let memories wash over him.

Two years ago, he’d whistled a country tune, walking home from the bakery to his woman. Josie. Doubt had still assailed him, but maybe he had a chance at a normal life. Sure, what had happened to his brother Nathan was a tragedy, and when Nathan was betrayed by Audrey, his life pretty much stopped. But Nate had never talked about the whole story. Something else had happened, and he wouldn’t discuss it. But now, maybe Shane could find a better ending.

The hair on the back of Shane’s neck had prickled. He had shifted the freshly baked baguettes to his other hand, reaching for the knife in his back pocket.

“Not necessary,” a low voice muttered from the alley.

Relief relaxed his shoulders as Shane dodged into the alley to face his brothers. “Matt, Nate. Why are we in an alley?” Humor tilted Shane’s lips. Matt hated drama, while Nate had once lived for it. When he lived for something.

Matt didn’t return the smile, just stared at him with those dark gray eyes.

Dread whispered along Shane’s skin. His ribs instantly had ached. No. “What?”

“Jory’s dead.”

Two years later, the words made Shane sit upright in bed, his gut revolting. Pain filled his body. Jory. The youngest kid, the smallest, the one who tried so much harder than the rest of them. Until he grew and kicked ass.

Shane breathed out, glancing at the sleeping bundle next to him. Tiny. She was so tiny, curled up like a kitten. Her lips pouted in her sleep, and he flashed back to the many times he’d lounged next to the bed. Watching her. He’d meant to talk some sense into her in the shower. Show her who was boss. She’d taken him. Wrapped her little body around him as tightly as she’d bound his heart.

Jesus. He couldn’t keep his own brother safe. How could he keep Josie safe? While memories were flashing home, there were more he needed to find. He’d told Josie he was keeping her, but what if that was a death sentence? Maybe loving her really did mean releasing her. But could he?

His hand trembled when he reached out and smoothed back the wispy hair on her forehead. Her skin felt like the finest of silks. Though the bruise spreading across her jaw made him wish he had killed George.

How could he see so well in the dark?

Time for some answers.

He rolled from the bed and pulled on his jeans, stalking on bare feet down the hallway to the living room.

Nathan glared at him from the table, where he had put together a scanner. His wet hair lay curled against his neck. “You used all the hot water, asshole.”

“Sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Why can I see in the dark? How can I guess the speed of a vehicle thirty miles away? Shit, how can I hear a vehicle that far away?” Anger fought reason for dominance in his brain. “How did I know how to interrogate that bastard earlier?”

Nathan sat back, his eyes thoughtful. “What do you remember?”

Shane growled and strode to the kitchen, grabbing two beers from the refrigerator. Guinness. He handed one to Nathan and dropped into a thick leather chair. “I remember a military academy and breaking my arm. Then I remember Matt telling me Jory was dead.” Even now, pain caught the air in his throat. “Small scenes, small memories scattered throughout. I’m starting to remember everything about Josie.” Shane squinted his eyes, looking into the past. “I know we don’t have parents. I don’t know how I know that, but I remember wanting parents.”

“At two years older than me, Matt’s the closest thing we ever had,” Nathan said softly. He rubbed his chin. “It might be easier not knowing. But you’re right. We don’t have parents.”

“Why not?”

Nathan exhaled. “We’re experiments, Shane. Genetics, psychology, and test tubes.”