No choice.
Really?
Monica shoved the taunting voice to the back of her mind. “West planned to kill Agent Dante in front of me. I would have become his next victim, and then—”
Hyde stared at her with unblinking black eyes. “And then?”
“He would have staged the scene to make it look like Deputy Lee Pope had killed us, then eaten his own gun. I suspect West would have ‘discovered’ the scene the next day and taken credit for wrapping up the case.”
The video equipment was recording her every word and expression, so Monica made sure she kept her face blank. Luke waited in the next room. He’d already done his interview. He’d taken his seat, recounted his capture and attack, all while covered in bandages, with stitches pulling at his flesh.
“Agent Davenport,” Hyde crossed his arms and studied her. “In your professional opinion, why do you believe Kyle West killed all of those people?”
She waited a beat. “From what he told us in that cabin, his mother physically abused him as a child. He killed her when he was only eleven. An action like that, from someone at such a young age, suggests intense psychological trauma. He said she was trying to kill him—so he killed her.” Monica swallowed and exhaled carefully.
“Kyle West was a very organized killer. He planned his crimes out in exacting detail.” And he’d timed the kills so well: When he’d taken Sam from the airport he’d drugged her, left her tied up and unconscious in the cabin, then popped in for an appearance at the police station.
Ballsy.
Monica knew he’d gotten off on that.
Hyde glanced down at his notes, then back at her. “It appears he specifically targeted members of the SSD. Why?”
This had been all she could think about since leaving the hospital. One answer came back to her, one answer based on Kyle’s own words. If it hadn’t been for Romeo, I never would have found you. But he told me—he told me you’d be the perfect prey.
Bastard. She forced her fingers to stay loose on the chair. “I believe Kyle West was in contact with the killer known as Romeo.” Had to be. Still trying to hurt me. “I believe Romeo manipulated him and sent West on a hunt against the SSD.” No, a hunt against me.
Now Hyde blinked. “How the hell did that bastard know about us?”
“The SSD has been making headlines recently, and when Romeo saw your name…” the name of the man who’d taken him down, “I believe he saw his opportunity for revenge.” If there’d been a picture in the paper, maybe a shot of her and Hyde, he would have known her instantly.
“I plan to travel to Angola Prison to interview Romeo and confirm the suspicions that I have.”
“The f**k you are.” Hyde’s hands slammed down on the table. “Session’s over! Stop the recording—and get the hell out!”
The technician scrambled.
Monica raised her brows and stared back at Hyde.
“You’re not getting near him, you understand? That piece of shit isn’t going to touch you again, you’re not—”
She reached for his hand. Curled her fingers over his. Tough Hyde. Hard as nails.
The closest thing to a father she’d ever had.
“He can’t hurt me anymore.” She was quiet.
Hyde’s fingers shook.
“He’s nothing now.” She wouldn’t fear him, not ever again. “It’s time I put the past to rest.”
“You don’t need to see him. You don’t have to go there.”
“Yes, I do.” Because she had to face the monster in the dark. “I want to move on. I don’t want to be his prisoner anymore.”
The door opened. Luke stepped inside. “Monica? What’s going on? You okay?”
She gave a slow nod. “I’m fine.”
“He’s going with you.” An order from Hyde.
Luke tensed. “Going where? You already working another case? You need to—”
“It’s an old case,” she told him. “One that I should have closed a long time ago.” And she did want Luke with her.
Always.
“Davenport’s got it in her head that she needs to talk with Romeo. So she can—clear up your ‘suspicions’ about Kyle West.”
“Fuck no.” Luke kicked the door closed behind him.
Ah, the protector. There he was again.
Not that she needed protecting.
But still, it was nice that he cared.
That Hyde cared.
She wasn’t alone. Why hadn’t she realized that sooner? “I’m seeing Romeo.”
“I’ll see him,” Luke said, his voice dark. “It’ll be my damn pleasure—”
She shook her head. “I’ll be the one to talk to him.” She knew he wouldn’t talk to anyone else.
A muscle flexed along Luke’s clenched jaw and he gritted, “Then I’ll be right by your side.”
She liked that idea. Monica inclined her head toward Hyde. “Guess I’ll see you back in D.C.”
“Count on it, Davenport.” Fury there, and fear.
Not that Hyde would ever admit either, not to her. “Luke, can you, ah, give us just a minute?”
Luke’s gaze darted between them, but then he eased from the room and shut the door.
“Is this going to be a problem?” she asked Hyde bluntly.
His brows shot up. “You going to see a convicted killer who would like nothing more than to screw with your mind? Hey, how could that be a problem?”
“I meant me and Luke.”
He exhaled, and she knew his control was returning. Control. Hyde had taught her all about control and how to take it back. “You can’t work in the field with him anymore, not if the two of you are going to stay together.” A pause. “Are you… staying together?”
She hoped so. She wanted to be with him. “Yes.” Even if being with him cost her the job. Because there were some things more important than the job.
“You and me—we’ve bent or broken so many rules.” His teeth flashed in that tiger smile. “They didn’t want you at Quantico.”
She remembered. Because of her past. But Hyde had helped her.
The name change had been his idea, to give her a new start. And she’d been glad for it. Mary Jane had been through enough. She’d deserved some peace.
Monica—she deserved a future.
“You passed all those tests on your own,” he said, and the faint lines around his eyes tightened just a bit. “I knew you would.”
“Hyde…” She hadn’t been so sure of herself.
“You’ve walked a thin line.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. The air conditioner clicked on above them, and a soft hum filled the room. “I worried about you.…”
His words echoed her own thoughts and had her tensing.
“Sometimes, when you go so deep into a killer’s mind, it’s not easy to come back out.”
Monica swallowed. “I came back out.” Maybe she wasn’t perfect, and she knew, with brutal honesty, that she never would be. But she wasn’t a cold-blooded killer.
“Yes, you did.” He stood, shoving back his chair with a groan of sound. “Did I ever tell you that I used to go to Quantico to observe you?”
“What?” She rose, too, slowly. The chair rolled behind her.
“I took a risk, pushing you through the program. There were folks out there just waiting for you to crack.”
She hadn’t cracked.
“So I’d check in on you, every now and then. To see how you were handling the pressure.”
Just fine. Or not.
“Sometimes, when I’d see you, you seemed so alone.” The words were gruff. Hesitant. Hyde wasn’t the hesitant kind.
Monica didn’t know what to say. She cleared her throat. “I’ve never been big on socializing.” Friendships had made her nervous.
“No.” His lips rose just a bit. “But I saw you one night… at some dive… your group was having drinks. I saw you—and Dante.”
“But you never said—”
“You looked different with him. Your eyes.” His hand lifted, then fell. “Not so cold.”
Her breath choked out as she realized just what he’d done. “You set me up.”
“You think I saved you, don’t you?” he asked, confusing her. Because, yes, he’d saved her. If he hadn’t come in, she would have died in that cabin. It had only been a matter of time.
“I know you did,” she whispered.
“I’d been arriving too late for so long.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know what it was to hope anymore.” He turned away from her and strolled to the door. “Be happy, Monica. I think it’s finally time for you to just be happy.”
Her heart squeezed. “Thank you, Keith.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Right back at you.”
Her lips curved, and she had to blink, fast, because Hyde didn’t like tears.
“Watch your ass with Romeo, got me? I don’t want him getting any kind of hold on you again.”
“He won’t.” Because she wasn’t afraid. Not of the Watchman. Not of Romeo.
It was time Romeo started to fear her.
She came to him. After the press conferences and the newscasts, she came to him.
Her knock on his door had been so soft, but he’d known it was her.
Now she stood before him on the threshold of his room, and Luke could only stare at her.
Monica. She was so damn gorgeous she took his breath away. She’d used makeup to hide her bruises for the camera and her lips were slick with gloss, her eyes even more blue with dark shadow.
“Luke… I—” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be away from you anymore.”
He opened his arms. She stepped toward him. Pressed her body against his and fit.
She’d always fit.
He had stitches in both arms. His shoulder had been patched. He had bruises and cuts all over his body, and he looked like a freaking Frankenstein.
He didn’t care. Neither did she.
Monica stripped him. Carefully, slowly. Her fingers fluttered over his wounds, and her lips pressed against the darkness of his bruises.
This time he knew it would be different. He let her lead him. Right then, he would have followed her anywhere.
She slipped off her dress, the dress that had driven him crazy during the press conference. A slinky little black number that had hugged her hips, cupped her br**sts, and made his body ache.
When the dress fell, he swallowed when he saw the black panties and matching black bra. Small scraps of lace. She walked before him, her h*ps rolling, and his c*ck swelled even more.
“Lay down.” Her sensual order. “I’ll be careful. I won’t hurt you.”
He’d be damned if he ever hurt her.
The bed squeaked beneath him. He stretched out, unable to take his eyes off her. What sane man would?
Her fingers hooked under the edge of her panties. She pushed the lace down. Stepped out of her strappy shoes.
Ah, he liked those. Sexy. She could have kept those on while they—
She climbed onto the bed. Crawled over him.
So. Fucking. Sexy.
Her mouth found his, and she kissed him. Her tongue pushed inside his mouth, tasted him, licked, stroked. Then she eased back and sucked his tongue.
Luke’s heels dug into the mattress. Her hand slid between their bodies. Found his cock. Ready and thick. Heavy with need. Desperate to thrust deep and hard into her.
She pumped him, worked him over and over with her tight fist and he groaned. Fuck, no. “I want… in you.” But he had to make her ready. He’d stroke her first. Find her clit. Caress that soft nub until she moaned against him and pushed her h*ps against his hand. He’d take her breast into his mouth. Suck her ni**les. Hear her breath catch.
Monica shifted, widening her legs, straddling him, and the folds of her sex brushed over his cock.
“No, wait—”
She arched up and pushed down on him.
Luke’s back teeth clenched. Ready. Wet. Tight. Hot.
So good.
He tried to grab her, to slow her down. Luke didn’t want to hurt her shoulder—
“No. Don’t move your arms.” She shook her head. Her dark locks fell around her face. “I need this. Let me.”
He was already gone. She could do anything she wanted. As long… ah, damn.
Her h*ps rose, fell. Her sex clenched around him.
He slid his fingers between their bodies. Pressed against her clit. Plucked. Stroked.
She started to move faster.
He thrust harder. Deeper. Inside. As deep as I can go.
She rose onto her knees and arched down. The black lace hugged her br**sts, but he could see the shadow of her ni**les, stabbing out. Such pretty br**sts…
Heat flushed her skin, face, chest. Her breath panted out. So did his.
The cl**ax was coming. Her sex milked him, stroking every inch of his c*ck and driving him out of his mind.
He thrust his c*ck into her. Slammed balls-deep. She took him. Took everything.
Faster.
Deeper.
Harder.
Her sex convulsed around him, contracting hard, squeezing so tight. Jesus!
She stared right at him, her eyes blue and blind with pleasure, and she whispered, “I love you.”
He exploded. Pleasure, so intense it stole his breath.
Just like she’d stolen his heart.
No light spilled from the bathroom. There was no gun under her pillow. Or his. Just the two of them, touching on the bed.
“I’m sorry about your mother,” she told him, her voice husky in the darkness.
Really?
Monica shoved the taunting voice to the back of her mind. “West planned to kill Agent Dante in front of me. I would have become his next victim, and then—”
Hyde stared at her with unblinking black eyes. “And then?”
“He would have staged the scene to make it look like Deputy Lee Pope had killed us, then eaten his own gun. I suspect West would have ‘discovered’ the scene the next day and taken credit for wrapping up the case.”
The video equipment was recording her every word and expression, so Monica made sure she kept her face blank. Luke waited in the next room. He’d already done his interview. He’d taken his seat, recounted his capture and attack, all while covered in bandages, with stitches pulling at his flesh.
“Agent Davenport,” Hyde crossed his arms and studied her. “In your professional opinion, why do you believe Kyle West killed all of those people?”
She waited a beat. “From what he told us in that cabin, his mother physically abused him as a child. He killed her when he was only eleven. An action like that, from someone at such a young age, suggests intense psychological trauma. He said she was trying to kill him—so he killed her.” Monica swallowed and exhaled carefully.
“Kyle West was a very organized killer. He planned his crimes out in exacting detail.” And he’d timed the kills so well: When he’d taken Sam from the airport he’d drugged her, left her tied up and unconscious in the cabin, then popped in for an appearance at the police station.
Ballsy.
Monica knew he’d gotten off on that.
Hyde glanced down at his notes, then back at her. “It appears he specifically targeted members of the SSD. Why?”
This had been all she could think about since leaving the hospital. One answer came back to her, one answer based on Kyle’s own words. If it hadn’t been for Romeo, I never would have found you. But he told me—he told me you’d be the perfect prey.
Bastard. She forced her fingers to stay loose on the chair. “I believe Kyle West was in contact with the killer known as Romeo.” Had to be. Still trying to hurt me. “I believe Romeo manipulated him and sent West on a hunt against the SSD.” No, a hunt against me.
Now Hyde blinked. “How the hell did that bastard know about us?”
“The SSD has been making headlines recently, and when Romeo saw your name…” the name of the man who’d taken him down, “I believe he saw his opportunity for revenge.” If there’d been a picture in the paper, maybe a shot of her and Hyde, he would have known her instantly.
“I plan to travel to Angola Prison to interview Romeo and confirm the suspicions that I have.”
“The f**k you are.” Hyde’s hands slammed down on the table. “Session’s over! Stop the recording—and get the hell out!”
The technician scrambled.
Monica raised her brows and stared back at Hyde.
“You’re not getting near him, you understand? That piece of shit isn’t going to touch you again, you’re not—”
She reached for his hand. Curled her fingers over his. Tough Hyde. Hard as nails.
The closest thing to a father she’d ever had.
“He can’t hurt me anymore.” She was quiet.
Hyde’s fingers shook.
“He’s nothing now.” She wouldn’t fear him, not ever again. “It’s time I put the past to rest.”
“You don’t need to see him. You don’t have to go there.”
“Yes, I do.” Because she had to face the monster in the dark. “I want to move on. I don’t want to be his prisoner anymore.”
The door opened. Luke stepped inside. “Monica? What’s going on? You okay?”
She gave a slow nod. “I’m fine.”
“He’s going with you.” An order from Hyde.
Luke tensed. “Going where? You already working another case? You need to—”
“It’s an old case,” she told him. “One that I should have closed a long time ago.” And she did want Luke with her.
Always.
“Davenport’s got it in her head that she needs to talk with Romeo. So she can—clear up your ‘suspicions’ about Kyle West.”
“Fuck no.” Luke kicked the door closed behind him.
Ah, the protector. There he was again.
Not that she needed protecting.
But still, it was nice that he cared.
That Hyde cared.
She wasn’t alone. Why hadn’t she realized that sooner? “I’m seeing Romeo.”
“I’ll see him,” Luke said, his voice dark. “It’ll be my damn pleasure—”
She shook her head. “I’ll be the one to talk to him.” She knew he wouldn’t talk to anyone else.
A muscle flexed along Luke’s clenched jaw and he gritted, “Then I’ll be right by your side.”
She liked that idea. Monica inclined her head toward Hyde. “Guess I’ll see you back in D.C.”
“Count on it, Davenport.” Fury there, and fear.
Not that Hyde would ever admit either, not to her. “Luke, can you, ah, give us just a minute?”
Luke’s gaze darted between them, but then he eased from the room and shut the door.
“Is this going to be a problem?” she asked Hyde bluntly.
His brows shot up. “You going to see a convicted killer who would like nothing more than to screw with your mind? Hey, how could that be a problem?”
“I meant me and Luke.”
He exhaled, and she knew his control was returning. Control. Hyde had taught her all about control and how to take it back. “You can’t work in the field with him anymore, not if the two of you are going to stay together.” A pause. “Are you… staying together?”
She hoped so. She wanted to be with him. “Yes.” Even if being with him cost her the job. Because there were some things more important than the job.
“You and me—we’ve bent or broken so many rules.” His teeth flashed in that tiger smile. “They didn’t want you at Quantico.”
She remembered. Because of her past. But Hyde had helped her.
The name change had been his idea, to give her a new start. And she’d been glad for it. Mary Jane had been through enough. She’d deserved some peace.
Monica—she deserved a future.
“You passed all those tests on your own,” he said, and the faint lines around his eyes tightened just a bit. “I knew you would.”
“Hyde…” She hadn’t been so sure of herself.
“You’ve walked a thin line.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. The air conditioner clicked on above them, and a soft hum filled the room. “I worried about you.…”
His words echoed her own thoughts and had her tensing.
“Sometimes, when you go so deep into a killer’s mind, it’s not easy to come back out.”
Monica swallowed. “I came back out.” Maybe she wasn’t perfect, and she knew, with brutal honesty, that she never would be. But she wasn’t a cold-blooded killer.
“Yes, you did.” He stood, shoving back his chair with a groan of sound. “Did I ever tell you that I used to go to Quantico to observe you?”
“What?” She rose, too, slowly. The chair rolled behind her.
“I took a risk, pushing you through the program. There were folks out there just waiting for you to crack.”
She hadn’t cracked.
“So I’d check in on you, every now and then. To see how you were handling the pressure.”
Just fine. Or not.
“Sometimes, when I’d see you, you seemed so alone.” The words were gruff. Hesitant. Hyde wasn’t the hesitant kind.
Monica didn’t know what to say. She cleared her throat. “I’ve never been big on socializing.” Friendships had made her nervous.
“No.” His lips rose just a bit. “But I saw you one night… at some dive… your group was having drinks. I saw you—and Dante.”
“But you never said—”
“You looked different with him. Your eyes.” His hand lifted, then fell. “Not so cold.”
Her breath choked out as she realized just what he’d done. “You set me up.”
“You think I saved you, don’t you?” he asked, confusing her. Because, yes, he’d saved her. If he hadn’t come in, she would have died in that cabin. It had only been a matter of time.
“I know you did,” she whispered.
“I’d been arriving too late for so long.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know what it was to hope anymore.” He turned away from her and strolled to the door. “Be happy, Monica. I think it’s finally time for you to just be happy.”
Her heart squeezed. “Thank you, Keith.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Right back at you.”
Her lips curved, and she had to blink, fast, because Hyde didn’t like tears.
“Watch your ass with Romeo, got me? I don’t want him getting any kind of hold on you again.”
“He won’t.” Because she wasn’t afraid. Not of the Watchman. Not of Romeo.
It was time Romeo started to fear her.
She came to him. After the press conferences and the newscasts, she came to him.
Her knock on his door had been so soft, but he’d known it was her.
Now she stood before him on the threshold of his room, and Luke could only stare at her.
Monica. She was so damn gorgeous she took his breath away. She’d used makeup to hide her bruises for the camera and her lips were slick with gloss, her eyes even more blue with dark shadow.
“Luke… I—” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be away from you anymore.”
He opened his arms. She stepped toward him. Pressed her body against his and fit.
She’d always fit.
He had stitches in both arms. His shoulder had been patched. He had bruises and cuts all over his body, and he looked like a freaking Frankenstein.
He didn’t care. Neither did she.
Monica stripped him. Carefully, slowly. Her fingers fluttered over his wounds, and her lips pressed against the darkness of his bruises.
This time he knew it would be different. He let her lead him. Right then, he would have followed her anywhere.
She slipped off her dress, the dress that had driven him crazy during the press conference. A slinky little black number that had hugged her hips, cupped her br**sts, and made his body ache.
When the dress fell, he swallowed when he saw the black panties and matching black bra. Small scraps of lace. She walked before him, her h*ps rolling, and his c*ck swelled even more.
“Lay down.” Her sensual order. “I’ll be careful. I won’t hurt you.”
He’d be damned if he ever hurt her.
The bed squeaked beneath him. He stretched out, unable to take his eyes off her. What sane man would?
Her fingers hooked under the edge of her panties. She pushed the lace down. Stepped out of her strappy shoes.
Ah, he liked those. Sexy. She could have kept those on while they—
She climbed onto the bed. Crawled over him.
So. Fucking. Sexy.
Her mouth found his, and she kissed him. Her tongue pushed inside his mouth, tasted him, licked, stroked. Then she eased back and sucked his tongue.
Luke’s heels dug into the mattress. Her hand slid between their bodies. Found his cock. Ready and thick. Heavy with need. Desperate to thrust deep and hard into her.
She pumped him, worked him over and over with her tight fist and he groaned. Fuck, no. “I want… in you.” But he had to make her ready. He’d stroke her first. Find her clit. Caress that soft nub until she moaned against him and pushed her h*ps against his hand. He’d take her breast into his mouth. Suck her ni**les. Hear her breath catch.
Monica shifted, widening her legs, straddling him, and the folds of her sex brushed over his cock.
“No, wait—”
She arched up and pushed down on him.
Luke’s back teeth clenched. Ready. Wet. Tight. Hot.
So good.
He tried to grab her, to slow her down. Luke didn’t want to hurt her shoulder—
“No. Don’t move your arms.” She shook her head. Her dark locks fell around her face. “I need this. Let me.”
He was already gone. She could do anything she wanted. As long… ah, damn.
Her h*ps rose, fell. Her sex clenched around him.
He slid his fingers between their bodies. Pressed against her clit. Plucked. Stroked.
She started to move faster.
He thrust harder. Deeper. Inside. As deep as I can go.
She rose onto her knees and arched down. The black lace hugged her br**sts, but he could see the shadow of her ni**les, stabbing out. Such pretty br**sts…
Heat flushed her skin, face, chest. Her breath panted out. So did his.
The cl**ax was coming. Her sex milked him, stroking every inch of his c*ck and driving him out of his mind.
He thrust his c*ck into her. Slammed balls-deep. She took him. Took everything.
Faster.
Deeper.
Harder.
Her sex convulsed around him, contracting hard, squeezing so tight. Jesus!
She stared right at him, her eyes blue and blind with pleasure, and she whispered, “I love you.”
He exploded. Pleasure, so intense it stole his breath.
Just like she’d stolen his heart.
No light spilled from the bathroom. There was no gun under her pillow. Or his. Just the two of them, touching on the bed.
“I’m sorry about your mother,” she told him, her voice husky in the darkness.
