Deadly Lies (Deadly #3)(85)

“The doctor left all right. Just not through the front door.” A muscle in Hyde’s jaw flexed, then he said, “I want all the security footage from this place. I want to know when and how Donnelley and Quinlan Malone got out of this building.”

The EMTs started to haul Max out.

“Kennedy…” Hyde’s attention shifted to her. “Go start running the tapes. See what you can find for—”

“No.” Her fingers tightened on Max’s. So strong, but right then, so vulnerable. Out like that, anything could happen to him. No way to fight back. “I’m going with Max.” Her voice came out, flat and certain, and she glanced up at Hyde. “I’m going with him.” Screw the case. He mattered to her.

Silence. She felt all eyes on her. Even the EMTs’. “Move!” she shouted at them. “He needs to get to the hospital!”

They moved.

“Get me an APB out on Quinlan Malone and Doctor Nathan Donnelley.” Hyde’s sharp orders followed her out the door.

Sam looked back, just for an instant, and found Hyde’s glittering stare on her. Sam inclined her head but never eased her grip on Max.

I won’t leave you.





CHAPTER Sixteen


Nathan Donnelley had gone back to his motel, the shithole he’d been staying in since he left the Malone house.

It took less than five minutes to toss his clothes into a bag. He grabbed his passport, shoved his wallet into his pants, and yanked out his phone.

On the second ring, Quinlan answered.

“Where’s my money?” Donnelly asked. “I need the account number.” He yanked open the motel room door. Juggling his bag and the phone, he hurried out. “Don’t screw with me,” he snapped when nothing but static crackled over the line. “I need—”

“I know what you need.”

The voice hadn’t come from the phone. Oh, f*ck, no, it had—

Quinlan stood in front of him. A white-hot pain drove into Nathan’s chest. Quinlan smiled and shoved the knife deeper.

Quinlan’s left hand clamped around Nathan’s shoulder, and he pushed Donnelley back into the motel room. Donnelley’s phone dropped and thudded onto the floor.

The knife left his chest with a long, slow slosh. Donnelley’s breath wheezed out as the suitcase slipped from his fingers.

Quinlan smirked. “Missed your heart, didn’t I?” He kicked the door closed. “Better try again.” Then he lunged forward.

Donnelley opened his mouth to scream, but Quinlan’s hand slapped over his lips and his knife thrust deep again.

“Did I miss this time, doc?”


When Max opened his eyes the next morning, he didn’t know where he was.

White. The ceiling above him was white. The walls were white. The blinds—white. His arms jerked and something burned along his right hand.

His gaze flew over and found an IV. What the hell?

“It’s okay,” Samantha’s voice. Samantha’s hand touching his. His eyes met hers.

“Why the hell…” His voice rasped, “am I in a hospital?” He’d tried to remember, but everything seemed so foggy. He’d been at his place. He’d been pacing, waiting, and then—

Nothing.

Her eyes searched his. “You don’t remember?”

“No, I don’t.” He turned his hand, caught her fingers with his, and held on tight. “Baby, tell me what’s going on.” The words came slow and rumbled out of his dry throat.

Instead of speaking, she leaned forward and kissed him. Samantha pressed her sweet mouth over his and dipped her tongue past his lips.

He might have been in a hospital bed, but his body sure seemed to be in good shape. One part was very excited. His arms wrapped around her. Max ignored the burn of the IV. One kiss, one taste, and the hunger flared bright.

Fuck the hospital, it was a bed, they could—

Her mouth pulled away from his. A growl built in his throat. “Not fair to start what you aren’t finishing.”

That stopped her. Samantha blinked at him. Her head tilted to the side as she stared at him, and he realized that she had on glasses. Small, sexy glasses that made her eyes look even darker.

“Don’t worry, I plan to finish.” Her palm slid down his cheek, and her fingers scraped over the stubble. “Once you’re out of here, you’re mine, Ridgeway.”

Promises. He yanked the IV out of his arm.

“Max! You can’t—”

“I feel fine.” He swung his legs over the bed.

“Trust me, you weren’t fine a few hours ago. You were dead to the world. You couldn’t talk. You didn’t know me—” She broke off and drew in a deep shuddering breath. “For a time there, you were gone, Max.”

Max saw the dark smudges under her eyes and finally noticed her rumpled clothes. “You’ve been here a while, haven’t you?”

“All night.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t leave you.”

“Samantha…” He stood, and she tilted her head back to stare up at him.

“When I found you,” she stopped, swallowed, “you weren’t moving. You were in your apartment, everything was dark, and, oh, damn, I was afraid I was too late.”