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  No, she didn’t think he was.

  “I like danger. I take risks. Emotions haven’t been a big part of my life. Usually, when I see something I want, I go after it.”

  And he wanted her.

  But he wasn’t moving. A few more inches, and his mouth would be on hers. He was staring at her with his intense gaze. She licked her lips. His stare heated even more. “Why...why aren’t you kissing me?” Casey asked.

  His pupils seemed to double in size as the darkness spread in his stare. His nostrils flared. “Because I’m trying to be different...with you. You deserve different.”

  He let her go. He stood up. Headed for the door.

  That was it? He was...leaving?

  “I don’t want pity from you.” She rose to her feet. Her hands fisted at her sides. “I told you my story because I knew you’d figure out the truth. But now you’re acting like I’m different. You’re acting like—”

  “You matter.” His back was to her. His words came out sounding rough. “So I’m trying not to mess this up. I didn’t expect you.” He looked back at her. “But I’m trying to do this right. You confessed your darkest pain to me, and I’m not going to pounce on you. I’m going to give you space. I’m going to give you whatever you need—”

  Because he was a protector, straight to his core. Did he even get that? She’d asked why he’d been a SEAL, why he’d joined the FBI...and the truth was right there.

  To protect.

  She closed the distance between them and put her hand on his shoulder. “Neither one of us has exactly had an easy life.” But no one was guaranteed easy. “Sometimes right doesn’t matter. Sometimes there isn’t a wrong.” In that moment, there was only one thing she wanted. “Kiss me.”

  A muscle flexed along the hard line of his jaw. “Casey...”

  “If I’m really what you want, then kiss—”

  He pulled her into his arms. His mouth took hers. She’d expected some passion. Some excitement. What she didn’t expect was the absolute explosion of feeling that she experienced when his mouth took hers.

  The kiss rocked Casey straight to her core. Every cell in her body seemed to ignite. Her hands grabbed on to his arms, her nails sank into his shirt and she pulled him closer. He’d crushed her to his body, and his hard strength pressed against her. He kissed her with a hunger that she couldn’t deny, with a need that called to her. Her lips parted even more for him, and his tongue thrust into her mouth. She moaned and her body rubbed against his. Her skin felt so sensitive, primed, and the way the man kissed...

  His mouth pulled from hers. She immediately bit back a protest.

  “I...shouldn’t have done that.”

  No, he should have done a whole lot more.

  “My job is to keep you safe.” He stepped back and let her go.

  She stared at him. Her heart was racing. Her breath came in quick pants.

  His heated stare swept over her. “But I’m not apologizing.”

  Good. She hadn’t asked for an apology.

  “And it’s probably going to happen again.”

  Probably? “Count on it,” she said.

  His lips kicked into a half smile. “But it will not happen until your twenty-four-hour concussion watch is over.”

  “Josh—”

  He held up a hand, stopping her when she stepped toward him. “I don’t think you understand how much I want you.” His smile vanished. “And how fragile my control is where you’re concerned.”

  She could still taste him.

  “Stay in here and relax a while,” he said. “I need to...talk a few things over with Tucker.”

  Translation—he needed to go and tell Tucker about her past. Some of that wonderful warmth she’d felt faded.

  “Benjamin is dead,” she said quietly. “He was an only child. His mother passed away last year, and his father—he died a few years ago. There is no one in his family who would be seeking any kind of crazed vengeance against me.” Her shoulders straightened. “And there is no one that I’ve let get close since then.”

  “I guess that depends on your definition of close.”

  She wasn’t sure she followed.

  “For some guys, it’s all about the fantasy. You don’t realize you’re starring in that fantasy until it’s too late.” He reached for the doorknob. “I’ll be right outside if you need me, okay? I have to talk with Tucker and check in with the rest of the team.” His gaze slid to the phone on the bed. “No more phone calls, okay? Not today.”

  Then he was gone. Maybe she should have felt like a prisoner, locked away but...she felt safe—for the moment, anyway.

  * * *

  HE’D MISREAD CASEY. Totally judged her wrong. He’d let his past interactions with reporters get to him, and Josh hadn’t seen her for the woman she was.

  His blinders were off. He saw her now. He always would.

  He marched back into the den.

  Tucker was tapping away at his laptop, but when he saw Josh, he put down the computer and raised his brows. “How’d that chat go?”

  “Her past isn’t pretty.” Talk about an understatement. “But it might be a lead we can use.” He headed toward Tucker. There were a few details about the recent murders that hadn’t made it to the press. A deliberate move.

  “She’s linked, just like the other victims,” he said, making sure to keep his voice low. “She was the victim of a violent crime, too.”

  Tucker’s jaw hardened. “He definitely has a victim type, doesn’t he?”

  Yes, he did... The perp liked a survivor. The first victim, Kylie Shane, had been attacked when she was sixteen years old. She’d been stabbed twice, but had managed to get away from her attacker. During the exam of her body, the ME had found those old scars.

  The second victim, Bridget Donaldson, had been the victim of a hit and run when she’d been just fifteen. She’d been walking home from school and the driver hadn’t even slowed when he hit her. Bridget had spent four weeks in the hospital. But she’d survived.

  Just as Kylie had survived.

  And Tonya Myers? An arsonist had set her home on fire, while Tonya and her sister had been inside. The sister had died, but Tonya escaped. She’d suffered second-degree burns on her legs, but she’d survived.

  As Casey had survived.

  “Casey’s high school boyfriend killed her family and tried to kill her.” Rage boiled inside him, a hot blackness that wanted to consume Josh. “She even changed her name after the attack, tried to become someone new.”

  Tucker’s gaze was considering. “But our perp found out her secrets.”

  Tell me all of your secrets.

  Tucker tapped his hand on the side of the couch. “It’s not just about the victims being attractive women in their twenties, not about them being outsiders. These women were survivors.”

  “Were,” Josh pointed out darkly. Because that was the point to note. “They survived until he got hold of them.” And then the killer had made sure that they didn’t escape death. He’d made so sure...he’d given Kylie, Bridget and Tonya a watery grave.

  No escape.

  “Your Casey survived,” Tucker noted.

  She isn’t mine. But he wished that she were.

  Tucker’s face became grim. “He isn’t going to let her walk away. If he’s choosing these women specifically because of their past, he isn’t going to find an easy replacement for Casey. And her escaping him...he’ll take it as a personal attack. She survived what he did to her. He can’t let that happen.”

  “He’ll come after her again.” Even as he said it, Josh hated those words.

  “Yes.” Tucker wasn’t the sugarcoating type. With his life, Josh knew he couldn’t be. Neither of them could be. “We have to be ready.”

  They would be. Because
Josh was not going to let Casey be hurt. He’d stand between her and any threat that came.

  Chapter Seven

  The sun was shining. The waves were pounding against the shore—she could hear them through the open balcony door in her room. And Casey didn’t feel so safe any longer.

  She opened the bedroom door and marched down the hallway. She headed into the kitchen and spotted Josh’s back as he leaned inside the open refrigerator.

  “I can’t do this. I can’t just...stay here, indefinitely. It’s been over twenty-four hours since you brought me here, and I’m already going crazy.” Her words tumbled out too fast. Twenty-four hours. Twenty-four very slow hours had elapsed while she’d been in that penthouse. “I need to talk to Katrina again. I need to do something to help find that freak who attacked me. And just staying in here while that guy is out there, possibly lining up someone else in his sights—that isn’t me.”

  The man rose and she saw his dark hair. Hair that didn’t belong to Josh. Her mouth dropped open a bit. She’d been so sure—

  Tucker Frost stared at her, one brow raised. “I told him we’d be lucky if you lasted a day.” He shut the refrigerator door behind him.

  She glanced around the quiet penthouse. “Where is Josh?”

  “At the sheriff’s station. He needed to talk with Hayden Black.”

  He’d left without telling her. Just...left? Why did that make her angry?

  “He’ll be back soon—don’t worry.”

  “I’m not worried,” she immediately replied. She wasn’t. She—“The disposable phone vanished from my room.”

  “Right. Yes. Josh took it. With him leaving, he wanted to make sure you didn’t get the urge to call your news buddies in his absence.”

  So Josh hadn’t trusted her. “I can’t keep staying here.” Each word was snapped. Take a breath, Casey. Calm down. But she was going stir crazy. She hadn’t been outside in a day and staying cooped up, with nothing to do...it just gave her time to think about her attack. Over and over again. “I want to help.”

  “You’re the only witness, the only survivor. Trust me, you are helping.”

  “No, I’m hiding—there’s a difference.” And she’d come to a hard realization during the long hours that had passed. “If someone else dies while I’m here, that death will be on me.”

  “No,” Tucker said flatly. “That will be on the killer out there. He’s the one who takes the life—he’s the one who has the responsibility.” His hand raked over his face. “No matter what anyone else will tell you.”

  “I came here yesterday because the doctor said that in order for me to be released from the hospital, I needed someone to watch me. Josh said he’d take that job. And I—I wasn’t quite myself.” She’d wanted a safe harbor. “But there has to be more than just...this. If I don’t contact my boss again, I may not have a job. I can’t just sit here, waiting forever.”

  The door opened behind her. She whirled around and saw Josh standing in the entranceway. His gaze slid from her to Tucker.

  “Happened just like I said,” Tucker murmured. “Barely a day and she wants out.”

  “What she wants,” Casey stressed, “is to help. To be of use. Not to be hidden away.” She hurriedly crossed the room and stood in front of Josh. “I want to help the investigation. I’ll keep a guard with me—I’ll play by the FBI’s rules, but staying here indefinitely just can’t happen.”

  He shut the door and secured the lock. “Your face is currently on every TV in the area. Your story is showing constantly.”

  She’d rather expected as much.

  “You go out into the city, and you won’t be helping. You’ll be swarmed by your fellow reporters. They’ll close in like sharks.”

  “But—”

  “I need you.”

  She blinked. Those hadn’t been the words she expected.

  “Sheriff Black called me to his office today because there’s been a...development.”

  A development?

  “Before the attack, you’d been working to get an interview with Theodore Anderson.”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “He hasn’t spoken to any reporters, and I wanted to interview him. I know it was a long shot, and his lawyer kept denying my request but—”

  “He’s not denying it anymore. Theodore Anderson wants to talk. But only to you.”

  Her eyes widened. “You aren’t serious.”

  “Dead serious. That’s why I was talking to Sheriff Black. Anderson has been completely shut down since his trial, but suddenly, the guy is saying he’ll speak freely...to you. He doesn’t want his attorney present—he said he didn’t give a damn about his rights. He just wants to see...you.”

  She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “My producer must be freaking out.”

  “Yeah, I met him. Dear Tom was camped out at the sheriff’s station, demanding to see you. He wants to make certain you’re all right, and he wants his star reporter going in for that interview.”

  She couldn’t miss that opportunity. “Theodore Anderson could have killed other victims. He hasn’t said a word to the cops—if he will really speak freely, there is so much I could learn from him.”

  Tucker had come up to stand at her side. “The FBI has been wanting him to talk...”

  “Yeah.” Josh rubbed the back of his neck. “And he’s said jack to everyone so far. But this could be a chance...”

  Excitement had her rising onto the balls of her feet. “You’re going to let me out of here so I can see him?”

  His hand fell. His eyes glittered. “We’re going to see him.”

  “I don’t—”

  “You just agreed to keep a guard with you. I’m that guard. And I’ll be going with you on the little visit with Anderson. Consider me your new assistant.”

  “But...” But she didn’t know what to say.

  “I don’t trust Anderson,” Tucker said quietly.

  “Neither do I,” Josh immediately agreed.

  It was hard to trust a convicted murderer.

  “And for him to want to see you, Casey, right after your attack...” Josh whistled. “I don’t like it, not at all. Despite being locked up, he would still have access to the news in prison. He’ll know what happened to you.”

  Her mind was spinning and there was a dark suspicion that she couldn’t ignore. For Anderson to want to talk with her now, after she’d escaped that creep with the knife... “There’s more here.”

  Tucker cleared his throat. “There’s an...option we may need to explore.”

  Her head tilted toward him.

  “Two serials of this nature, both hunting in Hope...perhaps they are connected.”

  Her lips parted. “You think the guy who took me knows Theodore Anderson?”

  Tucker shrugged. Not an answer. “I think we can’t overlook any possible connections. At this time, everyone has been operating under the idea that Anderson committed his crimes on his own.”

  “But what if he didn’t?” she whispered.

  “What if,” Tucker continued, “there was always someone in the background?”

  She understood exactly what Tucker and Josh wanted. “You need me to talk to Anderson and see if he’ll reveal anything about this perp.”

  Josh didn’t look happy, but he said, “It’s too coincidental that he wants to see you now. We can’t let this chance pass us by. We need to go in and see what the guy will reveal.” But he seemed hesitant. “Are you up for this? Be sure...”

  She’d interviewed killers before. She’d stared straight into eyes that she knew were pure evil. Casey’s chin lifted. “I’m up for this.”

  “I’ll be with you every step of the way,” he promised.

  * * *

  THEODORE ANDERSON WAS being held in a maximum security f
acility. Getting in to see him took some time, and Josh made sure he stayed with Casey every moment. Once they finally cleared security, he led the way into the small conference room that they would use for their session. A table waited inside, and a video camera had already been set up for the talk. As part of the deal for that little one-on-one, the FBI would be getting the video footage. Later, once they’d reviewed it thoroughly, the Bureau would turn over the video to Casey and her producer, Tom Warren.

  That was the deal.

  He glanced toward the one-way mirror that lined the wall on the right. Tucker was behind that mirror, watching and getting ready to make his observations. Hayden Black was in there, too. Hayden had to be kept away from the prisoner. Things were too personal between them. Anderson had gone after the woman Black loved, a woman who happened to be an FBI agent herself.

  And Hayden wasn’t exactly the forgiving sort.

  Don’t blame him a bit.

  “You know the questions to ask?” Josh asked as he paced the room. Anderson would be arriving any moment.

  Casey shot him a slightly annoyed look. The bruising on her cheek had faded a bit today. He still hated the reminder of her pain. And he couldn’t wait to find the jerk who’d hurt her.

  “I’m a professional,” she told him, a crisp edge to her voice. “I really don’t need my questions hand-fed to me.”

  No, she didn’t. But those prepared questions had come straight from Tucker because the guy was trying to get into Anderson’s head.

  She pulled out a chair at the table. She sat, with her back perfectly straight, right before the door opened. A guard entered first—young, with dark brown hair and dark eyes.

  The prisoner came in after him. The man was tall, fit and wore the garish orange of a prison jumpsuit. The lines on Theodore Anderson’s face were deep, and his blond hair had thinned. His tan complexion had turned pallid since he’d been locked up. He shuffled forward, and Josh saw the shackles that connected from the lock around the prisoner’s ankles to his bound wrists.

  Another guard followed Theodore inside. The two guards kept their attention on Theodore, obviously worried he might lunge at the pretty reporter as they steered him toward the table. But he didn’t lunge. Theodore just kept moving with those slow, shuffling steps.