Shattered (LOST #3)(8)

“His name is . . . Eddie Guthrie.”

“Aw, hell,” Wade said. “I’m sorry, Sarah.”

Obviously, that guy had just made some sort of connection with the name, a connection that Jax didn’t get.

“He’s come after you before?” Jax guessed.

She shook her head. “No, this is . . . just one of those things.” Her voice became even softer when she said, “He read an article about me in the paper—about the work LOST had done down here. He saw my picture and made the connection. It’s not like I could have known he was living here. I hadn’t been keeping track of him.”

He was confused. “Why did he come after you?”

Her chin notched up, pulling from his grasp. “Like you haven’t already been digging into my past.”

He had, but—

“That kid in there—Eddie—he came after me because he’s an eye-for-an-eye type.” Her words were stilted, but she shivered as she stood there. Wade shrugged out of his coat and put it around her shoulders.

Annoying true-blue type. Should have given her my damn jacket.

“You see, my father killed his mother. Tortured her for hours before he ended her suffering.”

Jax sucked in a sharp breath.

“So it seems that when Eddie found out I was in town, he thought he’d take the opportunity to strike out at my dear old dad . . . by killing me.” Her smile was sad. “An eye for an eye. A life for a life.”

“Sarah.” Wade’s hand squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I. Because now Eddie is going to jail. He looks young, but turns out he’s twenty-one. No juvenile status for him.” Her lips turned down in a sad frown. “I highly doubt he’s going to come out in any better frame of mind.”

My father killed his mother.

“Time to leave this town,” Sarah said. Once more, her gaze found Jax’s. “How am I supposed to repay you?”

No one should have eyes like her. “Don’t worry,” Jax heard himself murmur, “I’m sure I’ll think of something . . .”





Chapter 2

IT WAS NEARING 3 A.M. SARAH SHOULDN’T HAVE been exiting a taxi in front of the little bar on the wrong side of the town. She should have been in her new hotel room. The one on club level with all the so-called great security. She should have been warm and safe in her bed.

A catcall followed her as she headed across the street and toward the entrance of Shade.

She knew she shouldn’t be at that place, but . . . she was.

The past is too strong tonight. I need to escape before I go absolutely crazy.

Wade was her friend, and he’d tried to understand what she was going through, but the thing was . . . he could never really understand. No one could.

A bouncer was waiting near the door. And there was a long, snaking line that seemed to circle the bar—even at 3 A.M. Hell, she hadn’t even thought that so many people would be there. If she stayed in that line, she’d never get inside. Sarah inched forward and when she looked up, the bouncer’s stare was on her.

He was a huge guy, rather tanklike, with a long, twisting scar that slid over his left eye, slicing right though the eyebrow. Whatever had caused that scar, well, it was pretty amazing that the guy hadn’t lost his eye.

He stood up. And Sarah looked way, way up.

“You don’t belong here,” he said, his gaze raking over her.

She wore jeans and a T-shirt. Tennis shoes. Her hair was loose because she hadn’t wanted to waste time with it. A light jacket covered her arms so no one could see that ever-so-stylish bandage she was sporting.

Sure, this might not be her typical place. Sarah usually avoided bars, but . . . “I need to see Jax.”

“Dark hair. Chocolate eyes. Fucking sex appeal.” The man whistled. “Pretty Sarah.”

Uh, okay.

“I know you.”

He did? “And you are . . . ?”

“Carlos.”

Great. So now he waved to someone else, and a slightly smaller guy took up a guard position at the bar’s door.

“I was told to always let you in. Provided that you came calling . . .”

Jax had known she’d come looking for him?

The guy took her inside. Music was blaring in there. Voices were shouting, and drinks were flowing. Pumping out from the long, wooden bar. There was also a woman doing some serious gyrating on the small stage that was just a few feet away. When the chick grabbed for the pole near her, Sarah looked away.

“This way.” Her guide wasn’t leading her toward the bar. He was taking her to a small door on the far right side of the place. “Jax is in there.” He reached for the doorknob.

Sarah grabbed his hand. “Is he alone?” Maybe she should have thought about that part before. She didn’t want to burst in there and find Jax with some half-naked chick—like the one out on that stage. He said to come and find him, but I don’t want to find him with someone else.

“Does it matter?” the man asked, his head tilting as he studied her.

“Uh, yes, it matters. A rather great deal.” She looked back at the bar. There was an empty space there, and Sarah was pretty sure she could wiggle into that spot. “I think I’ll just wait for him over there.”