The killer had played him well. He’d been trapped, helpless to fight back, and he’d known what was coming for him.
Then she’d come for him. Gotten him free. Saved his ass.
And killed the serial.
His fingers tightened in her hair. She was real. She was alive. He could feel her heart pounding, racing just like his.
Safe.
Never letting go.
“Ah… Agent Dante…”
His lips pressed harder on hers.
“Dante…”
Hyde’s voice. Probably should care that his boss saw him devouring her mouth, but he didn’t give a damn.
Monica was alive. He was alive—and this was just the beginning for them.
“You have to let the EMTs look at you—both of you.”
Luke pulled away from her. Monica was hurt.
Kyle had punched her hard, and her jaw was already swollen, darkening to match the bruises on her face and forehead.
“Do I look as bad as you?” she asked him quietly, and it took him a minute to realize the woman was joking.
“Baby, you look beautiful.” To him, she always did.
“Oh, Christ,” Kenton muttered from somewhere behind them. “He must have head trauma. EMTs!”
But Monica smiled at him.
The EMTs swarmed. “Blood loss… close the wounds… possible concussion…”
They pushed between him and Monica. Her smile dimmed and she slipped back.
He grabbed her hand. His hands were wet with blood. Didn’t matter. He caught her fingers. He knew he’d never really know—not completely—what those dark times with Romeo had been like for her.
Romeo let me watch.
Had the sick fuck made her watch him hurt those women? Or had she just been playing a dangerous mind game with Kyle? A game that had worked. She’d gotten free and killed the asshole.
Either way, it wouldn’t change things for him. They’d deal with her past and his, and they’d face the future.
“Stay with me,” he whispered.
And she nodded.
Monica’s fingers twined with Luke’s as they carried him out on the stretcher. The blinding sunlight hit her first. So bright.
She’d gone into darkness before. When Hyde had come for her years before, it had been so dark.
The swirling ambulance lights were there just like before, cutting through the trees with red and yellow lights.
Deputies, so many men and women she’d never seen. Probably called in from other counties. Swarming around, racing to secure the scene.
Just like before.
And the stares… those were like before, too. The wide eyes when they saw her. The mouths that parted in surprise.
Luke’s fingers tightened around hers.
Not alone. Saved someone this time.
The EMTs shoved Luke into the ambulance. His fingers broke free from hers.
She glanced back.
That place—so like the prison she’d known.
But it was just an old cabin. So small, really.
Hyde stepped outside and watched her with his hands on his hips.
There would be questions. There always were. The scene had to be secured. Reports needed to be written.
And the news crews—the vultures would be swarming soon.
“Monica?” Luke’s voice.
She nodded to Hyde, then climbed into the ambulance.
“Ma’am, you should lay down. We need to check your head, your pupil response is—”
She ignored the EMT and ran her fingers down the side of Luke’s face. “You sure you can handle me?” Because she knew the darkness inside her would never go away. She’d been marked too young. She’d carry that mark to the grave.
But Luke was different. Trying to save the world. Because of his mother. It made sense now.
She hadn’t been the only one to keep secrets.
Maybe that had been part of her attraction. Luke was a hero, wanting to help, to protect.
Had he sensed what she was inside? Lost and alone.
His lips curved. “I’m sure.”
And so was she.
“You’re not getting rid of me,” he told her. “Not again.”
Good. Because if she lost Luke, it would tear her world apart.
The driver slammed the back doors of the ambulance. One, then the other. She leaned in close to him, remembered the smell of death and the demons from the past.
No, no more fear.
“I love you, Luke Dante,” she whispered, and the sirens wailed as the ambulance lurched forward.
Hyde watched the ambulance pull away. Another EMT crew was busy hauling out Lee Pope. The deputy was coming around again, talking fast, slurring as he said, “V-Vance hit me.… H-he… came at me… I-I don’t…”
Understand.
No, he wouldn’t.
“It’s okay, Lee. Everything’s going to be fine.” A female deputy, a small woman with tears trickling down her cheeks, hurried by his stretcher.
“Mel… what—wh-why?” The deputy’s voice seemed lost.
Hyde would have to talk with Monica. He’d get her full report and find out just what the hell had gone down here.
But right now, the facts were simple. Their killer was dead. Monica had said Vance Monroe was the serial, and he believed her.
The whys—he’d deal with all of them later.
Right now, he had a scene to secure.
Sheriff Davis came out shaking his head, rubbing his eyes. Hyde’s mouth tightened. “It’s over, Hank.”
Hank blinked and raised his chin. “H-he was the one… who told me to contact you….”
Hyde’s gaze narrowed.
“After… after the second body… he said he’d read about a department in the FBI… hunted killers.” He swallowed. “He mentioned your name, I—it clicked for me.… I called you.”
A set-up.
The guy had probably been tracking his team for months. Studying them all and digging into their pasts. No wonder he’d been so prepared for Sam. He’d probably known what she feared long before the team came down South.
Going head to head with his agents must have been the ultimate challenge for the Watchman.
One he’d lost.
“It’s over,” he told Hank again. “Tell your people that their county’s safe again.” It would be a hard sell. Folks would feel betrayed, afraid, especially when they found out a deputy had been doing the killing.
But they’d heal. The thing about people—they always healed.
Maybe not perfectly. The scars stayed, sometimes deep inside, where you couldn’t see them, but the wounds healed.
Monica had taught him that.
He strode inside the cabin. Crime scene techs were already there, snapping pictures of the body. Dusting for prints. Searching for DNA and every scrap of evidence they could find.
In death, Vance Monroe aka Kyle West didn’t look so fierce. But then, he’d never looked particularly fierce to Hyde. Sometimes, killers could hide behind the simplest of disguises.
Like a smiling face.
Or a badge.
“Hyde, did you see this?” Kenton demanded.
Hyde glanced over his shoulder. The agent stood next to an open door. A closet. Barely big enough for a person to stand in.
“The inside of the door knob was removed, but it—it looks like someone punched through the wood that was put there.”
Monica’s knuckles had been bloody. Hyde smiled. “He made a mistake.”
The scene had been set so well. An almost perfect match for Monica’s nightmares.
A whistle from his right. “Stab wound straight to the heart,” Gerry the tech said. “Someone wasn’t playing around.”
No, Monica didn’t play, and that had been the killer’s mistake. He’d thought Monica would play his way.
But the minute he’d taken Monica, it hadn’t been Kyle’s game any longer.
It had been hers.
CHAPTE
R Nineteen
Monica kept her voice calm and steady as she finished recounting her version of the events that had culminated in the death of serial killer Kyle West. “After Lee Pope distracted the perpetrator,” and got his head smashed in for his efforts, “I managed to free Agent Dante. There wasn’t much time.” She turned her head, barely feeling the ache in her jaw now.
It had been twenty-four hours since she’d walked out of that little cabin in the woods, but she could still see Kyle’s eyes, wide open, staring at Hell. “Agent Dante punched West when he attacked again and managed to get the cuff keys away from him.” A fast move that still impressed her.
“I unlocked my cuffs, managed to get the knife West had dropped, and when he came at me I had no choice but to use deadly force to defend myself and to secure the scene.”
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 fuck 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.”