Chapter 15

Liam shot up in bed, a cold sweat covering his body. He had been dreaming—no, it hadn’t been a dream, but a memory, a nightmare that haunted him every night and refused to let go.

He and his team had responded to the domestic disturbance call. Not standard FBI jurisdiction, but the suspect had a rap sheet a mile long, including multiple charges for selling illegal firearms. The guy was a midlevel thug for a well-known crime lord. They were hoping once they brought him in, he’d turn on his boss for a deal. When they arrived at the scene, the guy had his wife in a chokehold, gun to her temple, threatening to shoot if everyone didn’t back the hell off. If that wasn’t bad enough, the couple’s ten-year-old son stood just a few feet away.

Liam could still taste the raw anger on his tongue. What the hell kind of bastard beat up a woman, and how much sicker did he have to be to do it in front of his own kid? He would never understand the cruelty of some people. What he did understand was how fear made people dangerous—like the fear of a child watching one parent harming another while a bunch of guys dressed in riot gear pointed guns at them.

Poor kid fully believed his father would kill his mother. Hell, Liam didn’t doubt it either, but they’d had the situation under control. They would have gotten everyone out alive.

A shot of pain pulled his shoulder as he lifted his right arm, running a hand over his disheveled hair. Five more minutes and the dad would have been in cuffs, mom and kid safe in protective custody.

“Shit.”

Terror-filled blue eyes filled his vision, even now though he was awake. Desperation, pure and simple. One minute he was trying to talk the suspect into letting his wife go, the next, the boy grabbed a gun—there had been plenty strewn all over the damn house—and pointed the thing right at his father. Next, all hell broke loose.

The dad screamed at the boy, scaring him, causing him to fire his gun wildly into the air. The father returned fire, and everyone in Liam’s unit tried to take the suspect down before he killed anyone. The whole incident had taken no more than two minutes—and at the end, three dead, four wounded.

The suspect managed to take out his wife and kid before being hit by a barrage of FBI bullets. He and three other officers caught the strays shot by the kid, mostly all grazes. His wound had been the worst.

“Son of a bitch!” Breathing hard, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and bent between them. Bile rose in his throat.

It wasn’t fair.

The kid had had his whole life in front of him. Sure, it’d been pretty shitty up until then, but they could have helped him and his mom. The FBI had contacts to the Department of Child and Family Services. The kid could have gotten a second chance. He should have gotten there sooner, talked the suspect down faster, or hell, at least noticed a scared, jumpy kid with access to death cannons.

His jaw ached as he ground his teeth together. It was his fault. Some days, he wondered if he was even fit to serve anymore. If he deserved this career changing injury. Maybe it was his penance for not saving those two innocent lives.

A quick glance at the clock told him he had hours until dawn. No way he was going to get back to sleep now.

Just as he resigned himself to a long night of crappy, late night TV, a scream ripped through the house.

Senses on full alert, he grabbed his gun from the bedside table, yanked open the bedroom door, and headed down the hall to Julie’s room. He didn’t see anyone in the house, and her door was still closed. Years of training kicked in, which was good, because his damn heart stopped beating the second he heard her terrified scream.

Gun braced in front of him, he kicked open the bedroom door. A quick visual sweep revealed no one in the room. His heart, now running at full speed, pounded in his eardrums.

“Julie?”

A sigh of relief escaped his lips when he saw no sign of immediate danger. The poor woman writhed on the bed, body tossing and turning in anguish. Soft whimpers came from her. From the moonlight spilling in through the curtain, he saw tears tracking down her cheeks. Her pain stabbed him like a knife to the gut.

“Julie?” Rushing to her bedside, he placed the gun on her nightstand before sitting on the mattress next to her. Stroking her hair, he called to her, softly, “Jules, honey, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

“Liam?” Her voiced cracked as teary eyes focused on him, confusion clouding their dark brown depths. “What’s going on?”

“You were having a nightmare.” And ripping his damn heart out with her pain.

Sitting up, she rested against the headboard, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “I-I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” It seemed the sandman didn’t give two squats about anyone in this house. “I was awake already.”

She let out a deprecating laugh. “Aren’t we a pair? I bet the sleep aid companies would love to try out their new drugs on us.”

She was trying to joke about it, but this was the second time her dreams had woken her in the night, and this time, he didn’t think a late night scotch would fix it. He hated to ask, but he needed to know.

“Was it David again?”

Dark, wide eyes stared at him before glancing away. She hugged her knees tighter, refusing to look at him when she answered,. “Yes. It was about David.”

Maybe, but there was something more. Something she wasn’t telling him. He’d been in law enforcement a long time. He knew when people were holding back. But why would Julie lie to him? She usually told him everything, even things he’d rather not know, so why hold out now?

If she were a suspect he’d wear her down until she confessed all, but she wasn’t. No matter how much he wanted to know what was truly bothering her, he could never badger answers out of Julie. Not when she had already been through so much.

At the thought of David and what the man had done to her, shame and anger roiled inside. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get that bastard before he took you.”

Her head popped up, gaze locking on his. “Liam, that’s stupid.”

Huh? “Excuse me?”

Eyes rolling to the ceiling, she dropped her knees, scooting closer to him. “You had no idea the guy would go after me, none of us did. We were all trying to help Ryder with Kayla. None of us knew how dangerous David was until it was too late.”

Too late. There it was again. Story of his life.

“I’m fine.” Reaching out, she grabbed his hand in hers. “Do I have nightmares every now and then? Yes, who wouldn’t? But I’m okay. I can go to work, run errands, even drive my hog down 225 on a sunny day.”

Eye’s shutting in a wince, he groaned. “Okay, first of all, don’t say hog. You sound ridiculous.”

“I do not! That’s what us bikers call our rides.”

“You’re not in a biker gang. You’re a lawyer who bought a very ill-advised motorcycle in a state that—may I point out—cannot accommodate bipedal vehicles half the year.”

“I like to think of it as half a year of good riding.”

He shook his head. “Optimist.”

“Pessimist,” she shot back with a grin.

He felt his lips curl in an answering grin. This, right here, was why he enjoyed spending time with Julie so much. She had such a playful way of engaging people, such an upbeat attitude. No one could be sad around her; it just wasn’t possible. That’s why it killed him whenever he saw her jubilant spirit torn down. A sad Julie could make the angels themselves weep.

“Does your brother know about your hog?”

Her gaze narrowed. “No, he does not, and if you tell him, I swear I will strap you down on Wind Chaser and send her on the highest mountain trail I can find.”

“Your secret is safe with me, but for the record, I don’t think you should be riding around on something so dangerous.” The first time she told him of her vehicle purchase he nearly drove up to Aspen to take the thing from her. There was a reason doctors called them donor mobiles. He shuddered, imagining her riding one.

Scratch that. Picturing Julie clad all in leather, straddling a huge, vibrating beast of a bike between her legs did not make him shudder. It made him hot, horny, and frustrated. Knowing what could happen to her on one of those things…that terrified him.

“Ugh, if it were up to you and Jake, I’d never have any fun.”

“We’re just looking out for you. It’s our job.”

Arching one perfectly plucked brow, she leaned forward, invading his personal space. “No, it’s Jake’s job to look after me. He’s my brother. You are—”

“Your brother’s best friend,” he quickly interrupted. “Plus, I’m older than you, so I have to look out for you.”

Her gaze studied him for a moment. He shifted uncomfortably under her probing scrutiny.

“You know, Liam. Those excuses are sounding weaker and weaker every time.”

She inched forward, going up on her knees until she was so close he could feel her soft, warm breath on his face. The tiny freckles on her nose were so close he could count them. Fifteen, he knew there were fifteen because, idiot that he was, he’d been counting them for years.

“You’re not that much older than me, and just because I’m someone’s sister does not mean I’m not a woman.” Her hands snaked around his neck. “A woman with needs and desires.”

She threw one knee over his lap, straddling him. He could feel the heat coming off her, or maybe that was him—the room felt like a freaking sauna. Her thin nightshirt rode up on her smooth thighs. The flimsy cotton of his boxer shorts did nothing to hide the hard, painful erection he currently sported. When she sat on him, connecting the parts of them he wanted so much to join, his hands reached out of their own accord, gripping her waist in a firm hold.

“Julie.” Her name was a dark growl low in his throat. “What are you doing?”

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. Something I think we both have wanted.”

She had that freaking right. He’d never wanted anything more in his entire life. But still…

“We can’t.”

“We can.”

“We shouldn’t.”

“So contrary.” Her lips curved in a teasing smile. “Don’t you want to know what it’d be like?”

He already knew. Pure heaven. Being with Julie Ryder would be the single greatest moment of his life. He knew that. He also knew that once he had her, there would be no giving her up. She was right, his excuses were flimsy because the real reason he never started anything with Julie was the simple fact that she deserved better than him. Once she realized that—and she would—she’d move on to some other lucky bastard. His fist ached to punch the hypothetical new guy. Yeah, they’d have their fun, and Julie would walk away when it was over, taking his heart with her.

Yet, here they were. Now. She wanted him, and he sure as hell was dying for her.

Tired of fighting himself, Liam’s body hijacked his brain, telling the overthinking organ to take a flying leap. Another organ, one much lower, was in control now. Giving him permission to surrender to his desires. Tomorrow could bring whatever problems it wanted. Tonight was all about Julie.