Chilled (Bone Secrets, #2)(77)

“I’m fine. Just a little banged up, but Tyrone…” Liam swallowed hard. “He hit his head pretty bad.”

She shoved Liam aside and moved toward the door. “Let me look at him.” She abruptly stopped as she met Alex’s gaze. His face was blank. He’d been directly behind Liam as she kissed him. Guilt stole her breath.

Then anger gave it back.

She didn’t belong to Alex or to Liam. She glared at Alex, furious at herself for allowing the guilt. She’d kissed Alex. So what?

She’d told Alex that she and Liam were finished.

Then she was kissing Liam a few hours later.

Christ. She couldn’t deal with this now.

Thomas dipped his head through the cargo door, holding a limp Tyrone in his arms.

“Lay him down.” Alex and Liam immediately forgotten, Brynn scooted back to make room as Thomas gently set the injured man on the floor. Tyrone stirred and opened his eyes.

“Hey, handsome. What were you thinking flying in weather like this?” Brynn teased him as she took his pulse. She pulled off Thomas’s headlamp and checked Tyrone’s pupils with flashes of the lights.

“He had to get to you. No stopping him,” Tyrone muttered. “Head hurts.”

She nodded, her stomach sinking as she pressed a palm on Tyrone’s forehead.

Damn you, Liam.

Alex picked a seat that faced away from the cargo bay. He couldn’t watch any longer. For two people who were no longer a couple, Liam hadn’t let go of Brynn since they came in. Now they sat on the floor next to Tyrone, heads bent together, talking in hushed voices, looking like a couple having a serious discussion about the state of their mortgage. Brynn had caught Alex’s eye several times and minutely shaken her head at him.

Did she mean “Don’t tell him about us” or “I made a mistake with you”?

He didn’t want to know. He rubbed at his knee. The exertion yesterday had made it hurt worse than it had in years. He could simply grab some pain meds, but he didn’t want to. Right now he wanted the pain. Wanted something to distract him from the woman in the plane. Ryan plopped in the seat across the aisle from him, his eyes glassy. The kid had overdone it again.

“Fever under control?”

Ryan grimaced. “Mom back there won’t let me miss a dose of ibuprofen. It’s like she’s got an alarm that goes off when it’s time for more.”

“You look like shit.”

A genuine grin cracked his face. “Thanks. Right back at ya. But I don’t think a fever is causing the black shadows under your eyes.”

The kid was too observant. “It’s three in the morning. And I died yesterday.”

“Almost died. But now you look ready to do a little of your own killing.”

Alex ignored him, looking at Thomas and Jim deep in conversation in the seats in front of him. Alex had related the news of the phone call with Besand to the two men, and Jim had smacked himself on the forehead. “Why didn’t I think of trying to call him?”

But the current stress on Jim’s face was new, and he was shaking his head at Thomas.

“What’s wrong?” Alex asked sharply.

Both men turned toward him. Jim’s gaze went past him to take stock of the cargo area then returned. “How much walking around outside did you do after we left?”

Alex’s lungs grew numb. “We’ve all been using the trio of little trees to the right as a head. About fifteen feet out. Then a rotation to brush the snow away from the door. Haven’t done that since the sun went down though. That’s all we’ve done outside.” He questioned Ryan with the cock of a brow. Ryan nodded.

Jim and Thomas exchanged a glance.

“There are faint footprints along the edge of the tree line. And one set that comes up to the rear of the plane then heads back to the trees.”

Alex closed his eyes. Besand had been right outside the plane. Probably had his ear up against the metal, trying to listen inside. How far away had he been when Alex called? Thomas coughed, and Alex looked at him sharply. “What else?”

“Rabbit,” Thomas stated. “Partially skinned. Right beside the tail of the plane. Spread out like it should be nailed on a cross.”

“That’s f*cking twisted.” Ryan gagged.

“What do you mean partially skinned?” Alex could barely speak.

“Just skinned the front legs. Must have run out of time.”

Vomit crawled up Alex’s esophagus, and he forced it back down. Two of the nurses killed by Besand had been found in the same state; Besand had only skinned their arms. He’d later told Alex it was harder work than he’d expected and that he’d only done it out of curiosity and to freak out the investigators. Alex believed him. Once his victims were dead, Besand was finished.

He wasn’t into trophies or getting off with dead bodies. It was the thrill of the kill he craved. Once his hunger was satisfied, he usually threw the remains away like garbage.

Besand was sending a message to Alex, reminding him of what he was capable of doing to a woman, payback for his smart mouth during the phone call. I pissed him off, pushed too hard.

Alex buried his head in his hands, swallowing hard, trying to get the photos of the two dead nurses out of his mind.

“He did that to a couple of his vics, didn’t he?” Jim asked.