Run To Me (Lazarus Rising #4)(7)

She’d been shot. She’d died. But she was warm and alive in his arms. His Willow was back.

A fist pounded against the door. “Jay!” A man’s voice barked. “Jay, Elizabeth told me you asked for some time, but I need your ass out here, now.”

That was West. A pissed West.

Fair enough, West had just pissed Jay off, too.

Because Willow was pulling away. Slipping from his arms even as she grabbed the covers and wrapped them around her body. She stared at Jay with wide eyes, and her gorgeous lips were red and plump and wet from his kiss.

“Willow…” Jay began.

Willow, I want to kiss every fucking inch of you.

Willow, I want to sink into you and make you scream as you come.

She blinked. Her cheeks flushed. Her breathing hitched, and she quickly glanced away.

Jay’s gaze narrowed. The Lazarus subjects had psychic bonuses, he knew that. Had Willow just picked up on his thoughts?

“Jay!” West pounded on the door again. “The cops are demanding to see you! Your damn money can only buy you so much time. Get your ass out here!”

He hadn’t even realized West was at his house, not until the guy had interrupted at the absolute wrong time. He’d thought the fellow was still at the scene of the shooting. Jay spun on his heel and marched for the door. He opened it, but just enough to stick his head out. He didn’t want West seeing Willow right then. “Give me a minute,” he snapped.

But West threw his hand up against the wood of the door before Jay could shove it closed again. “Not happening,” West fired back. “The cops have played it cool as long as they could. They’re demanding to see you.” His voice was low. “Man, the stories are already spreading, okay? Reporters are saying online that you freaked out, and you’ve holed up with your dead lover’s body. This shit isn’t good.”

He hated the press somedays—no, he hated the tabloids that liked to rip his life to shreds. “She isn’t dead.”

“Of course, not. She’s Lazarus.” West’s dark gaze held his. “So get her out here for the cops to see before they start tearing your house apart in their search for a corpse.”

Oh, hell, no. “They wouldn’t dare.”

West just sighed. He’d ditched his tux coat and rolled up his sleeves. “Man, you think because you’ve got more money than God that people will do everything you want?”

He didn’t have more money than—

“Shit doesn’t work that way. You fled from the scene of a shooting. You took what people think is a dead woman to your bedroom. You’ve got to talk to the authorities, now, before this gets worse.”

Jay rolled back his shoulders. “Fine.”

West’s lips twitched, but then the faint smile vanished. “We didn’t find anyone at the scene.”

Jay clenched his teeth.

“Sawyer searched, I searched, but we couldn’t find a trail.”

Dammit. West was former Delta Force and Sawyer—the ex-Navy SEAL had enhanced senses. If those two couldn’t find the shooter… “That’s not good.”

“No, it’s not.” West inclined his head. “Bring out Willow before the cops bust in.” He turned on his heel and strode down the hallway.

Jay shut the door, and his hand lingered against the wooden frame.

“Is that my blood?”

He looked at his hand. Then he glanced back at her. She stood near the bed, the covers shielding her body. “Yes.” He headed for the bathroom. Ditched his tux coat, tossing it into the corner, and then he yanked on the faucet.

“I…don’t remember much after the shooting.”

She’d followed him into the bathroom. She stood beside him, her reflection right next to his in the mirror.

“Tell me what happened?”

He turned off the water. Dried his hands. Never took his gaze off their reflection. “We got in the limo. The driver raced us here. You woke up.” His words were bit off.

Willow shook her head. “You’re glossing over things.”

Yes, he was. Jay swallowed. “Fine.” Now he turned toward her. Their bodies were barely a breath apart. “I held you in my arms. I couldn’t stop the blood. You died in my arms. The driver had gotten us to the hospital—we went there first—but I knew there wasn’t a damn thing those doctors could do for you. So I ordered the driver to bring us here.”

A furrow appeared between her brows. “After I died, what did you do with me?”

“I told you, I got the driver to bring you here—”

She shook her head. “My…my body, I mean, what did you—”

“I fucking held you,” he growled. “And I told you to hurry that sweet ass up and come back to me.” His lips tightened. “You scared the ever-loving hell out of me, but you came back.”

Her eyes were wide. Deep. And for the life of him, Jay could not read the expression on her beautiful face. Did she hate him? Did she fear him? Did she just want to get away from him?

He strode out of the bathroom. Headed for the bedroom door. “I’ll take care of the cops. You just stay here and rest. Everything is going to be okay.”

She didn’t stop him, and he didn’t glance back. He’d discovered that when he looked into Willow’s eyes too much, too long, Jay could have sworn that the woman started to steal his soul.