Chapter Fifty-Six

Angel didn’t know why she was crying. She hated crying. It served no real purpose, and rarely did it ever make her feel better. Still, it was impossible to stop, so she simply gave in and allowed the sobs to rack her body and destroy her temporary peace.

Colton turned on the light and pulled her close.

“It’s okay,” he soothed. His strong arms held her so tightly it was difficult to breathe, but she didn’t want him to let go. He was safe. “Tell me about it.”

She’d had to go through a lot of analysis before she joined Task Force Phoenix. Her past, paired with her previous life of crime, put her at the top of the list for some kind of mental disorder.

After being shot on the job by her own partner, not to mention then killing him, she’d been forced to attend her four required meetings with the shrink before she could be released back to duty.

But none of those sessions prepared her to talk about what haunted her now. She knew instinctively it would help to talk about it, though. And Colton was here. Willing.

She pulled away so she could look at him. “Why didn’t he kill me, too?” she asked.

Colton licked his bottom lip and brushed a tear from her cheek. “I don’t know all the details, but from what you’ve said it sounded like the cops showed up and stopped him before he had the chance.”

She shook her head. She hadn’t been clear regarding who he was. Colton assumed she’d meant her brother.

She could see why he’d misunderstood.

And yes, that question had plagued her thoughts since the night she sat curled up in a blanket at the police station while the detective worked out what had happened to her parents. She’d been questioned, and she’d told them what she’d seen, and how her brother had attacked her. Her voice, though quiet, had been strong. At the time, it had seemed as though someone else was talking. Like a stranger was relaying a story. A horribly gruesome story. Not her story.

While the coffee had been hot enough to burn her tongue, it didn’t stop her body from shaking, or warm her from her emotionally frozen hell.

All these years later, it still didn’t feel like the story belonged to her. She kept it apart from her. Something she would deal with another time.

Someday.

But…not today.

Not ready to plunge into that black hole, she shifted the conversation to a different situation.

“No. I didn’t mean my brother. I meant the person who drugged me and killed Heath. This Jim, or Redgamer3, whoever he is. He was there. He touched me to move me into position. He could have done anything he wanted.” She shivered. “He could have killed me, too. Why didn’t he?”

Colton’s brows creased, then he shook his head. “I’m guessing he wanted somebody to pin it on.”

“But no one has been able to track him. He was able to get away with it. Why leave a loose end?” It didn’t make any sense.

Those emails taunted her. Did he leave her alive so he could play with her? Was she nothing but a mouse being toyed with by the cat?

“The police are using all their resources to find you. They’re not looking for anyone else. It’s the perfect plan to get away with murder.”

She nodded, but didn’t feel any better.

He let out a breath and pulled her back against him. “Is that what’s really bothering you?” he asked, his voice soft.

She tensed with fear. Not the kind she felt on an almost normal basis—the fear that kept her one step ahead of a criminal—but a more personal fear.

He knew her. Too well.

He knew when she was lying. Even to herself.