Evidence of Passion (13 page)

She could even hear the lapping of the river outside that window.

“Was he lying? Tell me, Rachel,
was Agent Foxx lying?
”

She nodded and stared up at him. He still had on the ski mask. All she could see were his eyes. Eyes that were burned into her memory.

The knife came up and pressed against the side of her face. She tensed.

But he just cut away the gag. It fell from her mouth, and Rachel licked her parched lips.

“Tell me,” Jack demanded. “Say it.”

“H-he was lying...”

He stumbled back.

“He was lying,” Rachel said again, her voice stronger.

Because she knew exactly what Jack would do if he didn’t think Dylan’s words were a lie.

“He was lying,” she whispered and she prayed that Jack believed her. Because if he didn’t...

Dylan and I could both be dead.

* * *

N
OELLE
WATCHED
D
YLAN
rush away. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t just go straight into danger.

Into death.

She realized that the EOD wasn’t like the FBI. The FBI was all about rules and regulations. Paperwork. Enough files and forms to choke her.

And the EOD...the agents there seemed to be on a constant adrenaline high. They loved the risk and the battles.

Being in the field was the work they craved.

“What’s wrong?”

It was
his
voice. Thomas Anthony. He was beside her. Not touching her. He was always so careful not to touch her.

But he seemed to watch her a lot. Noelle knew...because she found herself watching him, too.

“I need to speak with Mercer.” She had to tell him what was happening. All of the EOD agents had trackers implanted on them. When she told Mercer what was happening, they could activate Dylan’s tracker. Rachel’s hadn’t worked, but...
Dylan’s will.
“Dylan...he just got a call from Jack. He’s going after the killer,
without backup.
”

Thomas seemed to absorb that. But instead of immediately sprinting toward a car—and to go follow Dylan—he said, “Who says he needs backup? The man knows how to handle himself.”

Shocked, she could only shake her head. “He’s walking straight into the killer’s trap.”

“Dylan is hunting a man that he’s wanted to kill for years. It wouldn’t be wise to get in his path now.”

Noelle backed up a step. “Mercer can activate Dylan’s tracker. We can all follow the signal. Go in. Take Jack down.”

Thomas shook his head. “The instant that Jack sees anyone else there, what do you think he’ll do?”

She hesitated.

“Come on,
profiler.
”
The title was almost a taunt. “Tell me, what will he do when he sees more agents?”

Her skin iced. “He’ll kill.”

“Who will he kill?”

“Dylan.” Thanks to the profile she’d created, she could see what would come all too easily. “If he thinks he can’t escape, Jack won’t go in alive.” He had a narcissistic personality, one that thrived on control. On power.

Prison would take that power from him.

In his last moments, Jack would want to assert himself. He’d want the end to be
all
about him. He wouldn’t live in a cage.

And he won’t let Rachel go again.

“He’ll kill Rachel,” she whispered. “Then himself.”

Thomas nodded “And
that’s
exactly why we don’t make the call to Mercer right now. We give Dylan time.”

But time to what? To kill?

Or to die?

Chapter Eight

The new building complex waited right on the waterfront. The scent of the river teased Dylan’s nose as he advanced.

The building was about three stories high. Dylan suspected that Jack would be up on the top floor. A better vantage point. A better spot to watch and see if Dylan followed orders.

This time, he had. With Rachel’s life on the line, Dylan wouldn’t take any chances.

Jack had called him during the drive over. He’d given him terse instructions so that Dylan would locate this exact building. There were quite a few new buildings going up near the harbor. And, this late at night, all of those spots were empty.

Perfect for Jack.

Dylan had listened. Then he’d followed.

Now he advanced toward the building. The main entrance was locked, so he kicked in the door.

The stairwell was dark. But he made his way up. One flight. Two. Three.

The heavy metal door swung open beneath his hands, and he slipped out onto the third floor. It was dark up there, the only light coming in from the moonlight that spilled through windows.

About ten windows lined the left wall. Half of them had already been framed and had glass set in place. The other five were just gaping rectangles that opened into the night.

A breeze blew against him. He had his gun in his hand, gripped tightly. His steps were soft. Careful.

Bright light flooded on above him.

Dylan froze.

“You did better this time,” a hard voice called out.

And then Dylan saw them.

A man stood to the left, positioned in front of a gaping rectangle that would one day be a window. A black ski mask covered his face. His left forearm curved around Rachel’s neck. And he had a gun pressed to her temple.

“This is the point when you drop your weapon,” Jack said.

Dylan put the weapon on the floor.

Jack laughed. “All of your weapons. I’m sure you have backups, right? A good EOD agent would. Probably a knife in your boot. Maybe another gun strapped to your ankle.”

He had both. Dylan bent and pulled out the weapons. He tossed them aside. Then he lifted his hands. “There’s nothing else.”

Helplessly, his gaze went to Rachel. Her face was pale and her eyes were wide, but she showed no emotion.

“You’ve been a thorn in my side for years, Agent Foxx.”

Dylan kept his hands up. He took a slow step forward. “Maybe you shouldn’t have decided to make a living by killing. I would’ve stayed out of your way then.”

Jack shook his head. The gun never moved from Rachel’s temple. “You do the same thing that I do. Kill. Hunt. For a price. Only you work for the government.” Jack shrugged. “And I’m a free agent.”

“We’re
nothing
alike.”

“Are you so sure? Shannon thought we were...”

Dylan’s jaw locked.

“Shannon told me that you were a killer. Cold-blooded. Single-minded. The missions were all you cared about. You existed only for the rush.”

Shannon
had
told Dylan something similar during one of their last meetings. That he was too focused, too secretive about his work.

But he’d been a SEAL before he’d become an EOD agent. Secrecy was just a part of his life.

“I lived for that rush, too. It’s powerful, isn’t it? Knowing that you control someone else’s fate so completely.”

“I’m not in it for the control.”

“No? I don’t think I believe that, but I don’t suppose it matters. What matters...is that I control your fate now. Yours and Rachel’s.”

“You don’t want to hurt Rachel.” Dylan forced himself to keep his voice low, calm. A hard task when he wanted to shout his fury and attack. But if he moved too soon, Rachel could be hurt. Killed. “We both know that.”

“Do we?” Jack’s words mocked him. “You know who I
did
enjoy hurting?”

“Stop,” Rachel whispered. Her hand lifted and jerked against Jack’s forearm.

He just tightened his grip on her. “I enjoyed killing Shannon. Whiny, demanding Shannon. She was the one who approached me in the bar that night, did you know that? She hit on me. Made my job so much easier. She wanted to hook up with a stranger, with anyone...anyone but
you
.”

“Let Rachel go,” Dylan demanded.

“So I took Shannon home with me. We became lovers. I let her live a bit, even though I already had the money for her death. But she was useful, despite that whining. She was the one who first told me about the EOD after all.” His head shook. “I guess you revealed a little too much to her during your pillow talk.”

“Dylan, you shouldn’t have come here!” Rachel suddenly shouted. “He’s just—he’s messing with you! He’s going to kill you!”

He can try.
Dylan took another step closer to them. He hadn’t turned over all of his weapons, and Dylan was just looking for the perfect moment to strike.

“You know, I can’t help but notice...” And Jack backed up a step, getting closer to that gaping rectangle that opened to the night. “You didn’t seem so upset over Shannon. Or at least, not as upset as I imagined. Would it change things if I told you that she screamed for you at the end? That she begged me to let her go because she realized that she did love you?”

Dylan had locked down his emotions. He
wouldn’t
respond to Jack’s taunts. He had to focus on the coming attack. Jack wasn’t escaping this night. There was no way that he’d let the man go.

“Maybe it’s because you’ve moved on now, hmm? Is that it?” Jack’s forearm tightened even more around Rachel’s neck. If he wasn’t careful, he’d choke her.
Maybe that is the SOB’s plan.

“You sure seemed focused on my Rachel,” Jack continued. Anger threaded through his words. “Even going so far as to say that you were lovers.”

“We are.” His turn to bait the killer. To push Jack over the edge. When the man lost control, Dylan would attack.

Provided that loss of control doesn’t risk Rachel.

His gaze darted to her face once more. She was so beautiful. And...and there were tears in her eyes.

Rachel...crying? No, that wasn’t right. Rachel never cried.

“I’m sorry, Dylan,” she whispered.

“Yes, Dylan,” Jack mocked. “She’s sorry because the truth is that Rachel never cared for you. In her heart, there’s room for only one man, and that man has always been me. All of this time—me.” And he moved the gun from Rachel’s head. He eased his hold on her throat.

But Rachel didn’t try to attack him. She didn’t break free of his slackened grip. She just stood there, her body pressing back against Jack.

Jack bent his head and brushed a kiss to her temple, right over the spot he’d pressed his gun seconds before.

“She didn’t kill me when she had the chance. You know that. Rachel knows it. I
know
it. You don’t kill the one you love.”

Dylan stared at Rachel now, not Jack. What in the hell was happening there?

“Tell him, Rachel. Tell him how you feel.”

“I belong with Jack,” Rachel said.

Jack aimed his weapon at Dylan. “Did you ever love him, sweetheart?”

“No.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I never loved him. Because he isn’t you.”

Her words hit him harder than a bullet. Rage cracked through Dylan’s careful control.

“Good. Very good.” Jack pressed another kiss to her temple. “And now that we’ve got that cleared up, it’s time for you to die, Agent Foxx.” His eyes glittered.
“Because you never should have touched what is mine—”

Dylan lunged forward. He knew Jack was about to pull the trigger on that gun and there wasn’t any time for hesitation.

But Rachel spun around. She grabbed Jack, hit him hard, and they both fell right through the gaping rectangle of the window frame. They tumbled out of the building and headed for the water below.

The gun discharged as they hit the dark water.
“Rachel!”
Dylan screamed. He couldn’t see her or Jack.

Dylan jumped through that window frame and went into the water after her.

His body plummeted into the cold water. It was pitch black beneath the surface, and the current pushed at him.

He pushed back. His hands swept out, searching desperately to try and find Rachel. He kicked up, sucked in a deep gulp of air, and yelled her name. “Rachel!”

His gaze scanned to the left, to the right. He saw a flash of a hand. Then the hand vanished beneath the water.

Dylan dove. He kicked with all his strength, heading to the right. He wasn’t leaving Rachel in the water. He wasn’t—

Strong hands grabbed him and a forearm locked around his throat. Jack had a chokehold on him, and the two men sank deeper into the water as they struggled.

This was the point when most would probably panic. Fight harder, rougher, to get out. But that would just waste oxygen.

And it damn well wasn’t Dylan’s first time in the water. He’d trained and fought—over and over again—in the depths during his SEAL days.

So he didn’t waste time in a desperate battle. Instead, he let his body go limp. He wanted Jack to think he was winning that fight. He wanted the jerk to believe that Dylan was dying.

They sank, heading down deeper. Deeper.

Dylan waited for the instant when Jack would ease his grip, thinking that he’d won. He waited—

Jack’s forearm slid away from his throat.

Dylan instantly spun around. He shoved his hands into the man’s stomach. Then Dylan punched up with his fist, driving right for the man’s face. Bubbles exploded from Jack’s mouth as he screamed.

Bad mistake.

Now the guy was choking on water.

Dylan’s lungs hadn’t even started to burn.

Jack flailed as he tried to rush up to the surface and to air. But Dylan caught him.
He
held Jack tightly, easily subduing him.

And when they broke the surface, Jack was the one who was limp and barely breathing.

Dylan immediately shouted, “Rachel!”

Rachel was a strong swimmer, too. She should’ve been there, waiting at the surface with him.

She wasn’t.

He’d been fighting Jack, while Rachel—
No, no, she’s okay. She has to be okay.

“Dylan!”

His head whipped to the left. He knew that voice—it was Thomas. Thomas dove into the water and broke the surface almost immediately. Dylan shoved Jack toward him. “Keep this SOB contained.”

He whirled back around.
“Rachel!”
This time, her name was a roar. Pain twisted through him. He was sure that he’d seen her hand a few moments before. About five yards to the right. Just before Jack had grabbed him.

Dylan dove. It was so dark, he couldn’t see anything. His hands swept out. Searching. Desperate.

How long had she been under?

The gun had discharged just when they’d hit the water. Had the bullet hit Rachel?

No, no, no.

Fear wrapped around him and held tight. He wasn’t going to leave that water without her. Either he’d find her or—

I won’t leave.

His fingers swept out. He touched something then, something soft, silken.

Hair?

Rachel.

He shoved forward and caught her. He pulled Rachel against him and kicked for the surface.

It was okay now. Everything was fine. He’d gotten Rachel. They were both
fine.

When they broke the surface, he sucked in a gulp of air.

Rachel...didn’t.

“No!” He screamed and twisted her in his arms. Her eyes were closed. Her lips closed. “Rachel!”

He swam for the dock, holding her tightly. Fear swallowed him.
Consumed
him. This couldn’t be happening. Not to her. Hell,
no.

He reached the ladder attached to the dock. He pulled her up, and she was limp in his arms.

“What have you done?”
The shout came from Jack. He was on the dock, held tightly by a soaked Thomas.

Dylan carefully put Rachel down. “Baby, please, come back.” Because she was gone. He could feel it. His heart was like ice.

There was a gasp, then Noelle Evers rushed to his side. “How long was she under?” Noelle whispered.

He swept Rachel’s mouth. There was still some water inside, so he turned her onto her side then, when she was clear, he tipped back her jaw. No breath stirred from her, so he put his mouth on hers.

He’d give her his breath. He’d give her everything.

She just had to come back to him.

I never loved him.

He knew, he damn well knew, when Rachel lied. Because he knew her, inside and out.

He checked for a pulse. Found nothing.

He heard Noelle calling for help.

Jack was shouting Rachel’s name again and again.

Dylan started chest compressions. She felt so small beneath his hands. Sometimes he forgot how delicate she was because Rachel was always such a powerhouse of energy.

She wasn’t breathing.

He breathed for her again. He’d keep breathing for her as long as it took because he wasn’t going to let her go. Rachel couldn’t do this to him.

He pressed against her chest once more.

She choked. Her body spasmed and water poured from her lips.

Dylan grabbed her and turned her onto her side once more, holding her as tightly as he could. She was back.
Back.
And he’d never let her go again.

Trembles shook her slender frame. When the water stopped spilling from her lips, he pulled her back against him, wrapping his arms around her and curving his whole body over hers.

He kissed her head. “Don’t ever leave me,” he whispered. His hold was too tight on her, he knew that, but Dylan couldn’t ease his grip.

He’d just fought death for her. He knew that he would fight anything and everything for Rachel.

She didn’t speak, but her fingers threaded through his.

There was silence on that dock. Jack had stopped screaming.

Dylan glanced up.

Thomas shoved the killer down to his knees. “Damn, Rachel, you just scared the hell out of me,” Thomas said. Since very little ever seemed to scare Thomas, Dylan knew that was a big admission.

And he also knew that he felt the same way.