Alpha One (17 page)

Logan put his mouth on hers. His tongue slipped past her lips. The kiss was probably too hard, too rough, but so was he right then.

I told him that you didn’t love me back.

Her hands rose to his shoulders. Her mouth moved against his, gentling him.

After a few moments, Logan forced his head to lift. He stared down at her. “You didn’t...you didn’t do anything wrong.” His voice came out as a growl.

She gave him a faint smile. “Yes, I did. But I won’t make any more mistakes again. I promise.” Then she turned, pulling away. With slow steps, Juliana headed back to the bedroom.

But she had it wrong. The fault wasn’t hers. He was the one who’d screwed up. The one who’d never told her the truth.

“Logan...come back to bed with me.”

His head jerked up. He’d been staring at the floor. At nothing.

Now he saw that she’d looked back over her shoulder at him. Her hand was up, reaching for him.

He should tell her the truth. She wasn’t a kid any longer. Neither was he. He
would
tell her. Because of Susan, he’d have no choice.

If he didn’t tell Juliana about that dark night, Susan would.

Guerrero will.
The guy would be digging into his past, learning every secret that he could. And he’d try to use those secrets against her.

Maybe Juliana thought that Logan didn’t care, but Guerrero...

“Logan?”

Guerrero would figure out the truth.

He rushed to her. Took her hand. Kissed her.

I loved you back.

Juliana might have gotten over him. She might just be looking for pleasure in a world gone to hell, but she mattered to him.

Always had.

He lifted her into his arms.

She always would.

* * *

S
USAN
W
ALKER WATCHED
as the poor little rich girl stepped toward the microphone. Looking dutifully mournful but determined.
Cry me a river.

“The allegations that you’ve all heard about my father are true.” Juliana’s voice was clear and pitched perfectly to carry to all the microphones that surrounded her. “Senator Aaron James was using his position to perpetrate criminal acts. He was working with an arms dealer, a man that the government has identified as Diego Guerrero, and selling weapons off to the highest bidder.”

There was an eruption of questions as the reporters attacked like sharks.

Juliana held up her hand. “My father took his life because he couldn’t face what he’d done, but he left evidence behind.” She glanced toward the men in black suits beside her. Men who screamed FBI or CIA. “That evidence has been recovered and is being turned over to the authorities.”

Susan fought to keep her expression cool as Juliana continued talking. The reporters were eating up her every word. The woman looked like a perfect victim, sad-little-me, having to be so brave and struggle on after daddy’s treachery.

The mob around Juliana would probably make her into a celebrity. Hell, there was no
probably
about it.

And there stood Logan. Just a few feet away from Juliana. The reporters hadn’t noticed him. They’d followed Juliana’s gaze to the other agents, not ever seeing the real threat right under their noses. Blind fools.

“The authorities have told me that Diego Guerrero is in the country, possibly operating under one of his aliases...” Now Juliana was staring straight into the cameras. “John Gonzales is a name he’s used before.”

One of the suits rushed forward. He held up a picture.

“This is a sketch of Diego as his Gonzales persona,” Juliana continued. “We’ll make sure you all get a...”

Susan spun away, took two furious steps forward and slammed into the man she now knew was called Gunner.

Gunner just stared down at her with a raised brow. “Going somewhere?”

She forced a smile. “I just... It’s too much, you know?” She waved her hand back to the crowd. “I don’t know why you insisted on escorting me here today. I told you
already—you and the other agents—I had no idea what—”

“Ben McLintock said he had no idea, too.” Gunner’s dark stare seemed to measure her, looking for secrets.

You won’t find them.

“But we still found his body this morning. Dumped on the senator’s grave.”

Susan staggered back. She hadn’t expected...

“I guess Guerrero thought he was holding back.” Gunner lifted one shoulder in a faint shrug. “By the looks of things, I’m thinking McLintock talked to Guerrero, told him everything he knew. Guerrero
made
him talk.”

Her heart beat faster. Her palms started to sweat. Damn Mississippi heat. Even in the spring, she was melting.

“So maybe you should be rethinking that offer of protection,” Gunner murmured with an assessing glance.

Rethinking it? Why? So they could get close and find out exactly what she’d done and lock her away? No dice. She’d gone that prison route before.

She’d lost two years of her life to a juvie jail. She wouldn’t ever be going behind bars again.

It had taken Susan too long to build her life again. Or rather, to steal the life that she had. Before she got in trouble, she’d been Becky Sue Morris. After juvie...

Hello, new me.

“I don’t know anything,” Susan said. Juliana was still talking, feeding her lines to the reporters. Why? “Guerrero wouldn’t learn anything from me.”

“No, but he’d still kill you. Slice you open just like he did your friend McLintock.”

Ben hadn’t been her friend. He’d just been an annoying lackey who stood in her way. He’d been working for Aaron before she’d arrived on the scene, and while she might have gotten access to Aaron’s bed, Ben had been the one to know his secrets. Yes, she bet that Ben had known all about the deals with Guerrero. The twit had probably been in on everything.

How much money had they made? And she hadn’t seen so much as a dime.

Now Juliana was walking away from the microphones. The big show was over. No, Juliana’s show was over.

Susan’s show was just beginning.

Her gaze moved back to Juliana. Logan was being her shadow. Her guard dog. What else was new? Juliana must not have found the file she’d left for her.

Logan glanced up then and his gaze cut right to her.

He found it.

Susan kept her breathing easy and smooth. That gaze of his seemed to burn her flesh.

“Is there a problem?” Gunner asked quietly.

She put her hand on his arm, stumbled a bit. “It’s...so much. Ben. Aaron. I need a few minutes.” She glanced up, offering him a tired smile. “Give me a little time, okay?” Her voice was weak. Lost. She thought it sounded pretty perfect.

Gunner nodded. Right. What else was a gentleman supposed to do?

After taking a deep breath, she made her way to the nearest ladies’ room. Susan checked, making sure that no one else was around. Then her glance darted around the small room...and landed on the window to the right.

Time to vanish.

* * *

“
W
HERE’S
S
USAN?”
Logan demanded as he headed toward Gunner.

The agent jerked his thumb toward the restroom.

Eyes narrowed, Logan immediately headed toward the ladies’ room door.

“What are you doing?” Juliana grabbed his arm. “You can’t go in there!”

Watch me.
He knew that Susan was trying to drive a wedge between him and Juliana, and he also knew...

I don’t trust her.

So he knocked on the door, a hard, fast rap. “Susan! Come out! We need to talk.” Just not in front of Juliana. He glanced over his shoulder at Gunner. “Take Juliana to the car. I’ll be right behind you.”

Juliana was looking at him as if he was crazy.

And he heard no sound from inside the bathroom.

Hell
. “Susan?” Another hard knock at the door.

No response. Not so much as a whisper of sound.

His instincts were screaming now. Logan shoved open the door. Scanned under the stalls.

Gone. And only an open window waited to the right.

He spun back around to face Gunner. “What did she say to you?”

Gunner was shaking his head. “Out the window. Who would have—”

“What did she say?” Logan demanded again. Juliana stood behind Gunner in the doorway. Her gaze was watchful. Wary.

“We talked about McLintock. I told her what happened—”

“She got scared,” Juliana broke in. “She must have run because she was afraid she’d be targeted, too.”

Maybe.

But he doubted it. There were plenty of reasons for people to run.

He yanked out his phone and had Syd on the line in an instant. “Susan Walker is gone,” he said. “We need to start searching the area for her, now.” The bright sunlight hit him when he stepped outside and began to sweep the lot.

“Her car’s gone,” Gunner said from beside him. The man’s voice was tight with anger.

The vehicle sure as hell was gone. Gunner had driven Susan’s vehicle to the press conference, but it looked like the lady had reclaimed her ride. “Get the cops to put out an APB on her,” Logan said. He wanted to talk to Susan,
yesterday.

He glanced to the left and saw Juliana staring at him with her brows up. “It’s for her protection,” he said, the words half-true.

Half lie.

Susan was a dangerous woman—she knew the truth about him, and he was willing to bet she knew plenty of secrets about the senator.

If Guerrero got ahold of her, the man would make her spill those secrets, just like he’d done with McLintock.

* * *

S
USAN NEVER EVEN
saw the man approaching. She was fumbling with her keys, trying to rush back inside her old apartment—
good thing I kept the lease—
when hard arms wrapped around her.

“Someone wants to see you.” She felt the blade bite into her waist.

A whimper rose in her throat. No, this couldn’t be happening. She had planned too well.

But then the guy yanked her away from the apartment. There were no neighbors to see her.

He shoved her into the trunk of a black car. She tried to scream for help, but there was no help. The car sped away quickly, knocking her around in the trunk, sending her rolling back and forth.

Susan shoved and kicked at the trunk. Her breath rasped out. It was so dark. Only one faint beam of light trickled into the trunk. Without that light, it would be as if she was in a tomb.

Buried alive.

Susan screamed as loud as she could. The car kept going.

“Help me! Help me! Somebody, please!”
She’d hated the dark for years. Ever since her mother had gone away.

Susan had been six. Her mother had just...put her in the closet. “Be a good girl. Mommy has to leave for a while. And you...you have to be quiet until I get back.”

She’d put her in the closet, then never come back. Just...
put me in the closet.

“Help!”

Her mother had been an addict. A whore. Social services had finally come to find Susan...because her mother had overdosed. They’d taken her out of that closet.

“Get me out!”
Susan screamed as she kicked toward the back of the car.

She’d promised herself never to go back into the dark again. She’d fought for a better life. Clawed her way to that promise of wealth and privilege.

She couldn’t go out like this. Not in a trunk. Not cut up with a knife, like McLintock.

She should have more.

The car stopped. She rolled, banging her knees, still screaming for help.

Then she heard the voices. Footsteps coming toward her.

The trunk opened. Light spilled onto her. Susan stopped screaming.

And she started plotting.

I’m not dead yet.
Her heart thundered in her ears.

Survive.
That was all she had to do. Stay alive. Escape.

She just had to play the game right....

Chapter Nine

Juliana didn’t know why she went into her father’s room. Despite what Susan had said, Juliana didn’t expect any big revelations. She and her father—they hadn’t been close.

Not in years.

She stood in the doorway, feeling like an intruder as her gaze swept over the heavy furniture. The room was cold but opulent. Her father had always insisted on the best for himself.

He just hadn’t cared about giving that best to others.

Such a waste. Because when she tried hard enough, Juliana could almost remember a different man. One who’d smiled and held her hand as they walked past blooming azalea bushes.

She turned away, but from the corner of her eye, she saw...

My paintings.

Goose bumps rose on her arms, and she found herself fully entering his room. Crossing to the right wall, she stared at those images.

Storm Surge.
The painting she’d done after the horror of the last storm had finally ended. On the canvas, the fury of the storm swept over the beach, bearing down like an angry god.

Eye of the Storm.
The clouds were parted, showing a flicker of light, hope. The fake hope that came, because the storm wasn’t really over. Often, the worst part was just coming.

Her hand lifted and she traced the outline of her initials on the bottom left of the canvas. Her father...he’d told her that her art was a waste of time. He’d wanted her in law school, business school.

But he’d bought her art, framed it and hung it on his wall.

So he’d see it each day when he woke?

And right before he went to sleep each night?

“Who were you?” she whispered to the ghost that she could all but feel around her in that room. “And why the hell did you have to leave me?” There had been other ways. He shouldn’t have—

A woman was crying. Juliana’s head whipped to the left when she heard the sobs, echoing up from downstairs.

She rushed from the room, leaving the pictures and memories behind. Her feet thudded down the stairs. She ran faster, faster...

Susan stood in the foyer, her face splotched with color, and streaks of blood were on her arms and chest.