God, he hoped so.
He’d agreed to be exactly where he was, on an assignment he was now certain he shouldn’t have accepted. If Shaw still hating him was what it took to get her off the federal prosecutor’s radar so Cole could get the hell away from High Lake Mountain, then bring it on.
…
Damn it.
In the forest’s dense darkness, a lone man stood watching the disgustingly poignant scene unfold. He pulled off his night-vision goggles and ran a hand over his grotesquely scarred face.
He was so close to having what he wanted. Closer with every passing night. His sources from the hospital said Shaw’s amnesia was most likely temporary, as long as additional shock and trauma didn’t increase her dissociation from reality. But encountering more upheaval before she was better, they said, might make her condition permanent. It was a delightfully ominous possibility that he was more than happy to orchestrate into reality. Except now the interfering fed who’d been assigned to watch over her had exceeded his orders and intervened. Hell, Marinos was carrying the woman back to the house, where he’d no doubt comfort her and investigate her latest panic attack with his legendary thoroughness.
The son of a bitch. He was even more obstinate now than he’d been as a teenager. Defiant. Inexhaustible. And he was already personally involved beyond the strict professionalism that had secured his role in Shaw’s exile. It wasn’t an entirely unexpected complication. But what to do about it? The man repositioned his goggles so he could better observe the result of his latest efforts to unhinge Shaw’s mind.
Marinos’s interference didn’t necessarily spell disaster for his carefully laid plans. The idiot had let himself be pulled back into the bitch’s life. Mr. Strictly Professional was on his way to becoming a loose cannon his supervisors wouldn’t leave unchecked for long.
Which meant time was running shorter than anticipated. On the other hand, several interesting new options were presenting themselves.
If things were handled properly, the damage Marinos’s intervention could do to Shaw’s fragile mental state would allow for any number of useful possibilities. The witless agent could become the catalyst for even greater destruction.
And much more pain.
Chapter Four
Flames.
Flames didn’t belong in Shaw’s dream.
But she could feel their heat on the other side of the closet door, the sound of deadly fire roaring over the angry voices in the conference room. An orange glow flickered, an unholy illumination. Tendrils of acrid smoke surrounded her.
Flames had once nearly killed her, she suddenly recalled, her mind burning with the terrifying memories. She’d been a child and believed she could call for help and someone would actually come. The same someone to whom she’d run in the woods tonight, who’d once been her whole world and promised never to leave her. If only she could remember who he was…
“I’m here,” she whispered.
Breaking her silence meant certain death, but he wouldn’t let the dangerous men hurt her. He’d make the killer and the gun and the deadly fire go away. She pressed her palms to the door. She forced her mind to focus. What did the new dream images mean?
The door was yanked open. An inferno engulfed the room beyond.
“We have to get out of here!” she exclaimed. Strong arms enfolded her. “We have to run.” She struggled in the man’s grasp. “We can’t stay.”
“Stay with me,” he murmured. “Trust me, Shaw.”
From her past, she saw his hard body silhouetted against fire. The image and his voice were so familiar she clung to them and to his embrace, stunned by her first taste since the shooting of anything that felt completely real.
“Trust me,” he said again, his touch becoming a lifeline. “Let me help you process what’s happening, and then get you out of this place.”
Let him help her? She didn’t want help processing anything. She just wanted her life back.
Suddenly the hands restraining her were no longer his. A cruel fist closed in her hair.
“Sorry, Shaw…” It was the killer’s damaged voice, not her protector’s.
“I won’t let you do this!” she shouted. “I won’t let you destroy everything!”
She struggled against the faceless man as flames licked at her skin. And this time, he let her go. He let her crawl away…
Until her back was pressed to…dainty chintz cushions, the details of her dream once more slipping beyond her grasp…
Shaw woke with a start, her hand wrapped around her throat, trapping the soundless denial within. She was outside the nightmare, she realized. She wasn’t in her bedroom. This time, she was in her grandmother’s parlor, staring at a stranger seated across the couch from her. He wore a black T-shirt, black jeans, and black boots. Gazing into the brilliant blue of his emotionless eyes, she found herself wondering how many layers of darkness a man like that might be hiding beneath his calm, non-threatening demeanor.