Before the Dawn(53)

He caught her shoulders in his hands and held her-so carefully. He'd had her in his bed that night, he'd been with her, skin to skin, he'd tasted heaven, but now hell was coming toward him in a fierce rush. A train, barreling straight for him, and there was no way to get off the tracks. "I knew he had...darkness inside."

Her breath choked out. He could feel Bowen watching him. Waiting. The other agent would want to know just what had gone down before with Jason.

He'll want to know if he can trust me.

Dawn will hate me.

But if this new killer was tied to Jason, he had to reveal everything from his past. There wasn't an option. Discovering the bastard's identity was key. Protecting Dawn took priority over protecting his own past.

"When people pissed him off...Jason always struck back." Always. "Some kids beat me up when I was nine. Made fun of my clothes, made fun of my lunch...called me a piece of trash." He swallowed, that memory so fresh that it still burned. "Jason found out. He went back and beat the shit out of them." Big brother, protecting him, but... "He killed their dog. Their cat. And a week later, a fire gutted the barn of one of the boys who'd been yelling at me the loudest."

Her mouth parted in shock.

"No one ever tied the animals and the fire to Jason. Mostly because I...I never said a word." She tried to back away. He let her go. "You don't know the full truth about my family. Folks only saw us from the outside. Jason was strong and tough." His lips twisted. "And I became that way. You had to be, in our house. Weakness wasn't allowed. Weakness was punished." 

I'll never be caged again.

She just stared up at him.

"What are you saying, Tuck?" Bowen asked him.

He saw Dawn flinch at the nickname.

"My father..." He took a step back from Dawn. He wanted to look away from her when he finally told her this part, but he couldn't. "My father was a sadistic bastard. He loved inflicting pain on others. First he did it with my mother-my only memories are of her crying, of her trying to shield me and Jason from his fists and his belt. She tried to protect me...until I was five, and then she died and she couldn't protect me anymore."

Dawn's gasp was painful to hear.

"She was trying to leave him when she had that car crash," he said, remembering and hating that memory. "She was taking me and Jason away." And if she'd gotten them away, maybe everything would've been different. "But she was scared and driving too fast and she hit that big oak tree in the dead of night. She was bleeding and crying and he...he found her out there. He found us all out there on that damn godforsaken road."

Bowen swore.

"My father stood by the car...on that fucking lonely stretch of road. I was in the back seat, begging for help. Jason was with me, but he didn't say a word. She was crying... And my father just stood by that car, watching and waiting, until she wasn't crying anymore."

Dawn shook her head. "No," came her strangled whisper. "Tucker?"

"Jesus Christ," Bowen said. He came toward Tucker and put a hand on his shoulder. "I am so sorry."

He stiffened. Didn't Bowen see? Their father had been a twisted monster, one who had forced the darkness he carried onto his children. Jason had become a killer and Tucker...

"I can think like them," he said, glancing at Bowen. "Samantha knows that. She knows everything about my family. I told her about them before I agreed to join the unit." It was easier to look at Bowen. "I know how the killers think because I was supposed to be one of them."

"You're not," Bowen told him grimly.

Dawn hadn't said anything at all. Not since that broken whisper of his name.

Bowen glanced at her, then back at Tucker. "You and I will talk more in the morning." He inclined his head toward Dawn. "There are things the two of you need to say first. Without my ass here, watching." He grabbed his bag and headed for the door, but before he left, he paused. He glanced back at Tucker. "You're not one of them." Then he was gone.

The door closed softly behind him. Tucker made himself look back at Dawn. Beautiful, smart Dawn. Strong Dawn.

Dawn...who stared at him as if he were a stranger.





  CHAPTER ELEVEN

"YOU'VE BEEN KEEPING SECRETS," she said, tilting her head to study him. Then...then she shocked him by reaching out and touching his chest. "I know what those marks are now. They didn't make sense to me before-all of those faint, white scars. I...I thought you got them in battle."

Every muscle in his body had locked down. "They were marks from his belt buckle. After our mother died, there was no one to shield us. If we pissed him off, he'd beat us. Then he'd lock us in the closet. In the dark. For fucking hours." Days. Hot summer days had been the worst. He could keep them in that closet then, for as long as he wanted. There would be no calls from the school because they didn't show up. No people checking on them.