Sweet Revenge

Chapter 15

Laney double-checked the lock on the front door of the rustic cabin. An owl hooted at the moon outside, and a fire crackled quietly inside.

He’d find her. Without a doubt, Matt would find her.

But not tonight.

She’d prepared her getaway from the first day she’d arrived in town and even paid cash for the remote cabin from an old trapper who had no intention of recording the sale or exchanging deeds. Who knew if he had even really owned the land? But he’d built the cabin, and now it was her temporary shelter. A weathered tarp outside safely hid her car as she gathered her wits. Sure, she’d have to move soon.

She’d spent precious moments calling the hospital to check on Phillip, but the peace of mind was worth the risk. The child had broken his second rib and would be fine.

Thank goodness.

Smitty would take care of Eugene when Laney didn’t return. She’d have to drop him a line once she reached safety.

Thunder echoed through the mountains, and lightning lit up the forest outside. She shivered and drew a blanket around her shoulders before sitting near the fire, careful not to jostle the knife she’d tucked at the back of her waist. The one-bedroom place held a bed, sofa, fireplace, and makeshift kitchen. But it was off the map for now.

Midnight drew near, and her eyelids grew heavy. Sawdust dried her eyes. She was so tired.

She understood a little of the training Matt had as a soldier, and she knew his body as a specimen. Created in test tubes with the finest genetic splicing available, he had skills beyond a human man’s. As did his brothers. How had she not recognized him? He was beyond real with that body—and his mind was incredibly sharp.

Thus she truly had a small chance of outrunning him. But she only needed another six weeks, now, didn’t she? Those chips would activate at that time.

Her breath caught, and nausea spiraled into her stomach. God. The horrific chips.

Thunder bellowed outside, and she jumped.

Maybe she should’ve stayed and faced Matt. But he’d been trained to kill any threat, and once he learned she had nothing to help him with, she’d just be a liability. Would he really kill her?

A stick cracked outside the window. She jumped up and clutched the blanket to her chest. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head, peering over the couch and out the window. The storm slashed rain against the glass and stirred pine needles in a mini-tornado. It was just the storm. When she turned back around, the door stood open.

“Matt,” she murmured, dropping down to sit.

A formidable man backed by a dangerous storm, he stood in the doorway, legs braced. Wet hair curled at his nape, and droplets fell from his leather jacket to plop on the rough floor. He closed the door and engaged the lock before tossing his bag on the table. His ominous gaze never left her face.

She swallowed. Fear seized her lungs.

He shrugged out of his jacket and draped the leather over one of two chairs bracketing the tiny table. Then he shoved up his sleeves. “What weapons did you bring?”

Although his voice remained low and controlled, she jumped. The knife she’d hidden pressed against her skin in a deadly reminder of the danger now surrounding her. “Weapons?”

His gaze ran over her form as he strode toward her.

Her heart may have stopped, and fear tingled through her veins. She pressed back into the worn cushions.

Arriving within her space, he glanced around her immediate area and finally dropped to his haunches. A quick search, and he pulled the nine-millimeter out from under the sofa. She’d purchased the gun several years previous—from a back room. No records. Quick, economical movements had the weapon dismantled within seconds. “What else?” he asked, tossing the useless pieces onto the other end of the couch.

“Just the gun,” she managed to say as her breathing sped up. She had to control her lungs, or she’d hyperventilate.

His chin lifted slightly. “Do you want me to search you?”

The deep timber of his voice rolled over her skin, igniting nerves. It was the same tone he’d used in bed, and her body reacted instantly. Sure, she was scared. Even so, a very unwelcome desire awakened in her abdomen. “No.”

He stood and held out a hand. “Weapons.”

She drew in air for courage. “Where are your weapons?”

“In my bag. I don’t need them for you.” His face remained expressionless, which was so much more frightening than if he’d been angry.

However, deep down, she couldn’t believe he’d harm her. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Liar,” he said softly. “Stand up, Laney.”

She should’ve brought her phone so she could call for help. “How did you find me?”

“Now.”

There was no choice. She stood and reached for the knife.

Without seeming to move, he pinned her arms against her sides with broad hands around her biceps. “Knife or gun?”

“Knife.” Lying to him seemed pointless.

His palm skimmed down her arm in almost a caress. He drew the knife away from her, and the steel glinted yellow in the firelight. “You ever stab anybody?” he asked.

“No,” she whispered.

“It’s not as easy as you’d think.” He casually threw the knife, and the blade embedded in the wall across the room.

She flinched as wood sprayed. “I don’t think it’d be easy.”

“Turn around.”

Her shoulders went back. “I’d rather see it coming, thanks.”

For the first time, emotion filtered into his eyes. Anger and something darker. Hurt.

She opened her mouth to say something, anything, when he jerked her around to face the couch. She caught her balance by grabbing the armrest. Heat rushed down her spine. This was the same position he’d put her in when he’d taken her by the couch in her apartment. “Matt—”

His hands along her flanks stopped her. Firm and knowing, he slid his hands over her hips and along her buttocks. Heat cascaded from his calloused palms. Fire licked along her skin. Oh. He was frisking her. Her muscles tensed as he touched her.

His hands enveloped her thighs, patting down to her boots. While short and businesslike, his search nevertheless awakened every pulse point she had. Warmth settled in her abdomen with claws. This was so wrong. Her body was well accustomed to his touch and didn’t care. She had to get control of her libido and her brain.

He turned her back around. “Sit.”

The movement didn’t hurt her, but the hint of underlying violence caught her unaware. Her knees buckled before she even thought about refusing.

The rough floor protested when he dragged a chair across it and settled down, his knees bracketing hers. “Now we talk.”

She clasped her hands together on the blanket, grateful to have even the thin cotton shielding her. “When did you know?”

“When you saved Phillip. When did you know?”

“When I saw your back this morning. I’d felt the scars, but there were so many, so I didn’t…” She wanted to look away, but his hard gaze held her captive.

“Right,” he said. “Did you know who I was before I fucked you?”

She barely kept from flinching at the harsh question. “I don’t even know who you are right now.”

“Answer me.”

The desire flowing through her chilled. “I didn’t realize until this morning, when I saw the scar adjacent to your 4C vertebra. What are you going to do with me?”

“That depends on you.” Firelight flickered across his angled face, leaving deadly shadows. He turned and glanced at the still burning pictures in the flames. “You went through my apartment.”

“Yes. Where did you get the pictures?” She’d stolen them to destroy immediately.

“I found them at Greg’s.”

She gasped and leaned back. “You killed Greg?”

“Of course not.” Matt frowned. “The guy was a stalker, I think. Whoever killed him left the pictures scattered across Greg’s bed. I found Greg and took the pictures, not needing any more police scrutiny.”

Sounded like a decent explanation. Maybe. Perhaps Matt had killed Greg, but she doubted it. “Why keep them?” she asked.

“I hadn’t had a chance to destroy them.” Matt turned his formidable focus back on her. “What was your name before you went to work for the group?”

“Eleanor Roberts.”

“When you were with the group?”

“Dr. Peters.” She shrugged. “The missions were top secret, and nobody was supposed to learn our real identities… which had been scrubbed anyway.”

“I know. How do I deactivate the chips?”

“With a code.” If she’d known the code, she would’ve chased him down to give it to him already. “The chip holds a receiver. You need the right transmitter, hooked up to the right computer, with the correct code typed in. A wireless signal goes out, and the chip dies. The technology is light-years beyond anything our military has… Just the small size of the chips would seem impossible to most experts.”

“What’s the code?”

“I don’t know.” She bit her lip at the instant fury that leaped into his eyes. “I promise.”

His mouth twitched in barely a snarl.

Okay. So her promises lacked depth with him. An apology would probably send him over the edge, so she kept quiet.

His phone buzzed, and he lifted it to his ear. “What?” He listened and then nodded. “Interesting. I may need to use that later. For now, I have the surgeon—her name was Eleanor Roberts before. She probably purchased the new identification in Philly. Trace back what you can, and we’ll check her story with your research later. Oh—she’ll tell me the truth. Bye.” He slipped the phone back into his pocket, not having moved his gaze once.

“Use what later?” God. What had he found?

“Your friend the coroner has a false background because she fled from an abusive husband.” Matt’s smile failed to brighten his face. “Unlike you.”

How odd. Maybe Laney wasn’t the only person who’d seen small-town Charmed and found it was a good place to hide. “I spent half the money I borrowed from Joe-Joe on a new background,” she said. There was no reason to lie now.

“You paid him back?”

“Yes.”

“Why lie?”

She tried to keep her hands from trembling. “The lie kept Smitty from asking too many questions about my past, and it gave me an excuse to stay out of the limelight and away from the law.”

“What about the fake photographs of your brother?” Matt’s voice hardened at the end.

She lifted her chin. “Unlike you, I’ve never had family, which would’ve been in my employment file that you certainly dug up. I created a family with pictures from a free sharing site on the Internet. And no, I don’t know who the guy was.”

“Employment file?” Matt’s chair creaked when he sat back, as if he had to distance himself from her. “Killing us was merely a job to you.”

“No.” Heat rushed up her throat. “Not at all. I didn’t know—”

“Stop.” He held up a hand. “I don’t want explanations, and I don’t want apologies. I don’t give a shit what your reasons were, or how badly you want to live now. All I want to hear is how to defuse the chips.”

“I told you how.” She barely understood how the terrible things worked and had never seen the code. “I can’t help you.”

“Oh, you’re going to help me.” He rubbed his chin. “When was the last time you had contact with the commander?”

Just a mention of the man roared terror between her ears until they heated. “Five years ago. When the facility blew up, I fled.” Somehow, she’d gotten away.

“Why?”

“Are you kidding? I was as much a prisoner in that hellhole as you were.” Fatigue swamped her, and she allowed her body to relax. If Matt decided to kill her, he’d be quick, and she probably wouldn’t see death coming. Why tighten her muscles to the point of pain?

“How so?” he asked, his expression betraying nothing.

“That’s a long story.”

“Then I suggest you start talking.”

She scrubbed both hands down her face. “Then stop being so scary.”

One dark eyebrow rose. “I thought you weren’t frightened.”

She met his gaze evenly. “You sound scary, and that’s annoying. I don’t think you’ll kill me.” God, she hoped not.

“Why?” His upper lip twisted. “Because I’ve been inside you? Baby, that doesn’t provide you one bit of safety. That just means I know where you live.”

Anger shoved away the fear. “What you felt was real, jackass.” Ah. There was some emotion from the soldier. Sure, it was anger, but it was something.

His nostrils flared. “You try to manipulate me, and you’ll regret it.” That elusive Southern accent sprang forward in full force.

She glanced at her watch. “You’ve tried to frighten me for a while now, and I’m done. What happened between us? It was fast, unexpected, and real. Like it or not, it was you and me… the real us. So fuck you.”

Fire leaped into his eyes to be quickly squashed. “You’ve pushed enough. Where did you go to medical school?”

“Johns Hopkins.” She’d been so proud when they’d awarded her the scholarship. “Top of my class.”

“But no family?”

She shook her head. “No. Just a couple of friends, too. It’s hard to get As in medical school and have a social life, so I, well, didn’t.” Frankly, she was the perfect recruit for a black-ops military organization. “They offered me a job making a difference to our country and soldiers, and I bit. The second I was on board, they erased my life.”

The idea of how easily her past had been erased made her wonder if her life had mattered at all. Nobody had missed her or come looking. Pain and loneliness echoed through her. Even her feeble attempts to make friends from the safety of her bar mocked her. She’d been fine all alone until Matt Dean had blown into her life and made her wish. Made her want and need. Now she had an idea of what she was missing.

“What else?” he asked.

She shook her head. “What do you mean?”

“Motivations. You had more—I can tell.”

She sighed. He just had to dig into her as deep as he could go, now, didn’t he? “My father was in the military and died in action when my mother was pregnant with me. My, ah, life would’ve been different had my father lived, I’m sure.”

“So you thought helping other soldiers was the solution?” No expression crossed Matt’s face.

She shrugged. “Maybe. If some of the research would keep someone’s father alive, then it was a good cause, right?” She had felt closer to her own father, even though she hadn’t met him, during her time with the military. At least she’d glimpsed how he’d lived.

“Did you see the risks with the experiments?” Matt asked.

Her shoulders hunched. “I did. I mean, I saw the possibilities of our research and findings being used to harm instead of heal. But I pushed through anyway, sure the people I worked with would do the right thing.”

“You were wrong.”

“I know,” she said softly.

“Did you plant the device in my spine that’s going to kill me?” Matt asked.

“No.” She sighed and stifled a yawn. The adrenaline had disappeared, leaving exhaustion.

Matt’s phone buzzed, and he lifted the device to his ear with a growl. He stood and glanced down. “My bike is visible through the clouds? Okay. I’ll find a better hiding spot.” He slid the phone back into his pocket before digging into his bag. Shiny cuffs glowed in the firelight.

She tried to scramble away, but he grasped her wrist and secured the cuff to the wooden portion of the armrest. “Asshole.”

“My bike is a couple of miles away, so this might take a little while. Stay here.” He turned and stomped from the cabin.

Like she had a choice. Through the clouds? Somebody had access to high-level satellites, apparently. So that’s how they’d found her. She snuggled down and watched the fire. Sure, Matt was mad at her, but he didn’t understand the entire story. Against all rational thought, she had feelings for the guy. Even more so now that she knew who he was and what he’d endured.

Guilt spiraled through her. She shouldn’t have run. Yes, she’d panicked. Had she had time to think, she would’ve realized that staying in town and facing Matt, telling him the truth, was the only solution for her. She’d worked for the commander, she had training as a surgeon, and she’d do whatever she could to help make things right for Matt and his brothers.

The fire crackled inside while the storm continued to rage outside. She shut her eyes and practiced deep breathing to calm herself.

She didn’t know what to do, but she knew without question she wanted back into his realm of trust. The shield provided by Matt had been strong and sure, and she wanted that again. She needed him to look at her the way he had, as if he cared. As if she mattered.

She’d never truly mattered.

Now she’d give anything to feel that again with him. But even if he never trusted her again, she’d help him. How, she didn’t know. But she’d figure out something to save his life.

Even if she lost hers.