Run To Me (Lazarus Rising #4)(12)

If she touches me again, I won’t be able to stop. “Go upstairs.” Now his smile was gone. “Because you’re still riding an adrenaline high. I don’t want you doing something that you’ll regret or something that you want to take back.” His gaze didn’t leave her face. “Because if I ever do have you, once won’t cut it for me. Fair warning.”

She didn’t move. Neither did he. The tension seemed to stretch between them. All he wanted was to take her into his arms. To take her. And because he wanted that so badly—“Good night, Willow.” His voice was almost tender, a supreme struggle. “I’ll be here in the morning when you wake up.”

“You always say that,” she murmured. “Such a strange thing.” Her hand pushed back her hair. “I don’t know why that makes me feel safe.”

Even during the early days when he’d been trying to figure out if she was the enemy or if she could be trusted, he’d always left her with those words.

Good night, Willow. I’ll be here in the morning when you wake up.

“When I woke up in the lab, I was strapped to the exam table. Naked. I screamed because men and women in white coats were all around me.”

Jay was rooted to the spot.

“I begged for them to let me go. I begged for someone to help me. But no one did. I woke up alone every single morning in that lab.”

He hated her pain. I did this. Of course, she’ll never want to be with me. I’m her monster. I’m the one she hates.

Willow’s gaze swept over the room. Then came back to linger on him. “I’m glad you’re close when I wake up now.”

What?

Willow swallowed. “Good night.”

She walked away, and Jay knew he was going to need another whiskey.

***

The attack had been caught on camera. And the video was released everywhere, playing all across the Internet, on every celebrity news show in the world.

After all, Jay Maverick was a major public figure.

A fucking big deal.

“And in my way,” Wyman Wright muttered as he stared at the computer screen. He could see Jay Maverick’s face so clearly on the screen. The guy had scooped up the unidentified woman, his “companion” as the news dubbed her. Jay held her so tightly, and the fear on the fellow’s face was plain to see.

Wyman knew the identity of Jay’s mysterious companion. She’s my Willow.

Willow had been shot. Her blood had spilled on the ground.

Wyman wondered if she’d died in the limo. He didn’t know because the car had raced from the scene. Jay had taken her away.

For the moment.

But Wyman would get her back. And he’d make Jay Maverick pay for what he’d done.

***

Doing the right thing was freaking hard.

Jay stared into the flames. Willow had gone to bed over an hour ago. He’d wanted nothing more than to follow her upstairs. But he hadn’t.

He’d been the gentleman. Even though he could still taste her. She’d been so sweet.

His eyes squeezed shut. Maybe he’d try a cold shower before bed. Maybe he’d get his ass in check that way. The whiskey hadn’t helped so he sure needed to try something else.

But then a faint sound reached him. A cry?

Instantly, he was out the room and running up the stairs. The sound came again, a whimper, and he knew it was Willow. She was the only other person in the house. It had to be her, and she sounded as if she were in pain.

Maybe she hadn’t healed completely from the gunshot. There was so much about the Lazarus subjects that no one understood.

“Willow?” He knocked on her door.

Another soft cry was his only answer.

He twisted the door knob. Locked. Dammit. He pounded on the door. “Willow?”

A whimper.

Screw this. He kicked in the door. It flew back, banging against the wall. Jay raced across the room. Willow was still in bed, tangled in the covers, her hair tousled. Her head moved back and forth across the pillows, and those soft cries continued to slip from her.

She was afraid. Terrified. And dreaming.

He reached out to her, his fingers curling around her shoulder. “Baby, wake up—”

At his touch, she screamed. A long, piercing cry, and her eyes flew wide open. For an instant, she stared at him with zero recognition on her face.

And then her hand flew up. She touched his chest.

The room vanished. It was as if he’d blinked, and Jay found himself somewhere else. Someplace else.

Back in the limo. He was sitting on the leather seat. Willow was in his arms. Her blood was on his hands. Her eyes were closed. She wasn’t moving. Wasn’t breathing. “Don’t!” The shout broke from him. “Don’t do it!” But she was…she was dead. He shook her, again and again, even as fear clawed through him. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t lose someone again, couldn’t hold her while she died, and he was helpless to do a damn thing. “Willow!”

And just like that…

The scene faded. The limo was gone, and he was back in his home, standing beside the bed. Only Willow wasn’t in the bed any longer. Jay shook his head even as his breath sawed in and out of his lungs. Willow was across the room, her arms wrapped around her stomach as she rocked her body back and forth.

“S-sorry, so s-sorry…”