Fear For Me: A Novel of the Bayou Butcher(26)

“I’m not asking who you’ve been with!” Lauren threw at him. “I don’t want to know.”

His hands tightened into fists. “That’s the difference between us.” He looked back at her. In bed. So sexy that his cock ached. “I want to know every damn thing about you.”

“You don’t have a right to know—”

“Two more minutes, and I would have been in you.”

Her breath sucked in on a sharp gasp. “Go back to your room.”

He was screwing this up. He always screwed things up with her. Never said the right thing. Never did the right thing.

He headed for the door.

Stopped.

Confessed. “The women I’ve been with…they were you.”

“That doesn’t make any—”

“At first, it was because I was pissed at losing you. I didn’t even realize why I was with the blonde.” He glanced over his shoulder. “When I called her by your name, then I knew.”

There was shock on her face.

“In the dark, they’re always you.” He knew it was screwed up. He was screwed up. His jaw locked. He’d pushed enough, and if he didn’t get out of there right then, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk away from her. He grabbed for the door and left.



Pierce Hamilton stared out at the darkness just beyond his bedroom window. His wife was behind him, sleeping deeply, the sound of her even breathing filling the room.

There was no sleep for him.

A cop was downstairs. The patrol car was parked right in front of his house. Protection.

Only there were some things you couldn’t be protected from in this world.

He’d seen so many murderers step into his courtroom over the years. Seen rapists, child molesters, abusers. He’d done his job. He’d put them behind bars. Some of the cases—they stayed with him. They kept a tight hold on him no matter what he did.

When he’d been with Karen, he’d been able to forget some of the darkness. He’d been able to live, to breathe.

Karen.

Beautiful Karen, with her wide smile and gorgeous, golden skin.

Gone.

He glanced back at the bed. His wife was still sleeping. Did he love her? Had he ever?

Her family’s money had made things easier. His law school. His time in the DA’s office. Money and connections could make anything easier.

But they couldn’t stop the nightmares.

So many killers. So many cases. For fifteen years, he’d been on the bench.

He glanced away from his wife. Stared into the darkness.

He hadn’t been able to get near Karen’s body, not once it had been transferred to the ME’s office. He would see her, though. Once more. He knew just the strings to pull. Just the connections to work.

The attack on Karen had been personal. A dig at Lauren? No, at me.

Because Karen was the one thing that had mattered to him in this world. The only thing.

That SOB Walker had known that. He’d told Pierce, that last day in court…I’ll take away everything you love.

Another threat. He got plenty of those. As he’d banged his gavel and sentenced Walker to an eternity behind bars, he hadn’t cared much about threats.

After all, what could the guy do while he was locked up? But he wasn’t locked up anymore.

And Karen was gone.

“Hamilton?” His wife’s voice. She never called him Pierce. Just Hamilton. “Come back to bed.”

He stared into the darkness.

Wondered how much longer it would be before it was his turn to die.

He forced himself to turn and face her. So very different from Karen. Julia was poised and perfect, even when she should have been rumpled from sleep.

Always so perfect.

Ice-cold.

But the killer hadn’t come for her.

My Karen.

“The woman who was killed…”

Julia reached out and turned on the bedside lamp. “She was the one you were screwing.” Her words were flat. The light fell on the right side of her face. “This time.”

He locked his shoulders. “I was leaving you, Julia.”

She laughed. “No, you weren’t.” Her eyes met his. “Come back to bed, Hamilton.”

He didn’t want to go back.

Karen was gone.

Julia shook her head. “At least Walker saved us the trouble of having to deal with her.”

The rage burned in him then, so hot and dark that he felt like it would consume him.

Walker should have killed you, Julia. It should have been you.

“Now we can get back to the way things were.” She turned the light back off with a flick of her fingers. Cold. That was Julia. She didn’t love him. Never had.

He didn’t love her.

Never had.

It should have been you.

He headed slowly toward the bed.



Stacy Crawford wasn’t moaning. Wasn’t crying. Wasn’t doing anything at all.

Except bleeding.

The life had drained from her eyes. That moment—that one instant—was always so amazing to watch. Like a switch was being turned off, and all that she’d been faded away.

Because of him. Because he had that power.

He bent over her and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. He would leave her just where she was. The swamp had a way of taking care of prey for him.