Fear For Me (For Me #2)(55)

Her lashes lifted. His eyes…she pulled in a quick breath…he looked hungry.

Not for food.

“Sin and sweetness, all twisted together. You f*cking bring me to my knees.”

He wasn’t on his knees. She was the one who felt like her knees were wobbling.

“I will have you again.” A promise.

One she wanted fulfilled.

“The doctor wants to check you once more. If you get the all clear from Davis…if it’s safe for you…”

Her fingers pushed against his shoulders, forcing him back. “It will be.” It needed to be. Because she wanted, as desperately as he did.

The look in his eyes—the stark promise of pleasure and passion—it was exactly what she needed to wipe away the memory of fear and death.

It will be.





*


Pierce Hamilton wasn’t paying any attention to the case being presented before him. The witness was testifying, going on and on about an alibi that was probably crap, and all he could think was—

Lauren Chandler got away from the Bayou Butcher.

He’d woken to the headline today, screaming from the cover of the newspaper, and then the reporters from the local news had been too eager to blast the same story at him.

The DA was a very hot topic, and apparently extremely good at surviving. It hardly seemed fair she had survived when Karen hadn’t.

“Your Honor?” The defense attorney cleared his throat. “I—uh—I objected.”

Hell.

He didn’t even know what the objection had been about. He slammed down his gavel. “Court is recessed until nine a.m. tomorrow.”

The defense attorney’s jaw dropped. “But Your Honor—”

Pierce shoved away from his chair and hurried for the door.

The police had said they’d protect Lauren. They hadn’t. She’d nearly died.

What will happen to me?

His robe billowed around him. He wasn’t going to sit there and wait for the Butcher to come after him. Karen was already gone. He wouldn’t roll over and die, too.

If the Butcher thought he would, then the sick prick needed to think again.

He was in a different office today—one that had been empty since Judge Remus retired six years ago. The cops had told him his office was still off-limits.

This office would work, for now.

He pulled open the desk drawer. A gun waited inside. As a judge, he didn’t exactly spend a whole lot of time getting patted down. It had been too easy to get the weapon in the courthouse.

He tucked the gun into the waistband of his pants. He’d already hit the bank and withdrawn a nice chunk of cash. He hadn’t run after getting the cash. Instead, he’d gone to court.

He’d thought he could try and wait things out. Use the cash only if he got really desperate.

I am desperate. With every moment that passed, the fear grew stronger. He wasn’t ready to die.

He wouldn’t be the Bayou Butcher’s next target.

After tossing his robe, Pierce hurried down the hallway. He took the elevator, an empty ride that coasted quickly down to the parking garage. He was avoiding the cops who were supposed to watch him, slipping right past their guard. If they saw him, they would stop him.

No one was stopping him. He was getting out of town before the Butcher came after him.

When the cops had the killer, then he’d return. Until then, Mexico was looking pretty f*cking nice.

Screw any pending cases. Screw the bitch of a wife at home. Screw all of it.

Life was what mattered. He wasn’t ready to give his up.

The elevator doors opened, and he hurried into the parking garage.

Footsteps shuffled to the right, and he froze. “Is someone there?”

Silence.

I’m not going to die.

He hurried his pace.

The footsteps shuffled once more.

I’m not going to—





*


“The original profile for the Bayou Butcher missed a few key elements.” Cadence stood in the front of the conference room. The room was filled with cops, marshals, and even the ME. The homicide captain sat in the back corner, his arms crossed over his chest.

Anthony also stood in the back, near Lauren. She’d taken a seat in the last row, and he kept close to her. She seemed too fragile. Every time he glimpsed the cut on her cheek, he wanted to empty his weapon into Walker’s heart.

“I don’t believe Jon Walker was working alone when he committed his crimes.”

The silence in the room was thick and heavy.

“When Walker held DA Chandler, he said he watched the murder of the DA’s sister years before.”

Several heads turned toward Lauren. Her shoulders tensed.

“Jennifer Chandler died twenty years ago,” Cadence continued. Her partner stood by her side, his eyes on her. “If Walker was there at the time of her death, he would have been only sixteen years old.”

So young.

“By his own words, Walker watched Jennifer die, so that means someone else—”

“Pardon me, ma’am,” Paul said as he rose to his feet. “Maybe the guy just f*ckin’ slipped up when he was talking. Maybe he killed her and then stood back and watched her die.” He shook his head. “With respect, I worked those Bayou Butcher cases five years ago. There was never a sign anyone else killed those women.”