Page 28 of The Survivor
It hadn’t been enough. The satisfaction never came. And now he knew why. Because the prey he was sure he’d punished still roamed free. Breathing. Mocking him.
She’d come back from the grave to taunt him. She had come back to hurt him again, to play with his mind and flaunt her treachery.
He eyed the shears again, fingers tingling with the urge to tear each plump rose from its stem and squash the petals beneath his boots.
No.No. His fury belonged elsewhere. He would save it for the woman who called herself Samantha Dawson.
CHAPTER 7
Rick was already seated at the dining room table when Sam and Blake walked in, drumming his fingers against the wood. He glanced up as they entered, then exchanged a look with Blake.
“What’s going on?” Sam said carefully. Wariness climbed up her chest like a vine, coiling into a lump in the back of her throat. “Why do you two look so serious?”
Blake gestured for her to sit, and she did. Sinking into the chair next to her, he raked his fingers through his dark hair. “It’s time for you to go, Sam.”
She’d expected this, and yet the words brought a tug of desperation to her stomach. Seeing that reporter spin her pain and sensationalize her ordeal had been tough, but it only reinforced her conviction that she needed to see this through to the end.
If the Rose Killer suspected that she was alive, he might question the well-being of his latest victim. What if he learned that Elaine hadn’t died the night he’d left her in the warehouse? What if he came after Elaine again?
That thought sent an avalanche of rage surging through Sam’s body. She genuinely cared for the young woman, she wanted to help her, and running away again wouldn’t achieve a solitary thing. Elaine still needed her, whether Blake and the FBI liked it or not, and Sam couldn’t desert her. Not now.
“No,” she found herself responding, her voice thick with emotion.
Blake released a sigh, as if he’d expected her to be difficult. “You don’t have a choice. While you were in the bathroom, three other networks aired the story of your survival. The press is already camped out in front of police headquarters and outside the FBI field office here in the city. It’s too risky for you to stay.”
She tightened her lips. “Elaine needs me.”
“Elaine is being moved to a safe house in Indiana. Tonight.” Blake’s normally rough voice softened. “You wouldn’t be able to see her, even if you stayed.”
“Will I be able to speak to her on the phone?”
“No. I mean, it could be arranged but—”
“Then arrange it.”
“Sam—”
“I’m not leaving.” She crossed her arms over her chest, tightly, desperately. “I can’t leave. Iwon’tleave.” Blake opened his mouth but she silenced him with a glare. “And don’t you dare tell me I don’t have a choice. Idohave a choice, Blake. The Bureau can’t force me to go into hiding.”
Neither agent answered, confirming that her words were correct.
“I won’t leave,” she repeated, a sliver of stubbornness slicing her tone.
“You’ll be safer in Florida,” Rick said quietly.
“Florida? That’s where you want to ship me off to?” She snorted. “What, so I can lie on a beach all day and pretend the bastard who tried to kill me isn’t murdering other women? No, thank you. I have as much, if not more, invested in this. I want to be here when that maniac is caught.”
In a flat voice, Blake said, “No.”
Hot flames ignited her body. Why was he being so difficult about this? It wasn’t as if she were saying she wanted to use herself as bait to catch the killer; she just wanted to be in the city when he was captured.
“This isn’t your choice,” she said in a steely tone.
“Like hell it isn’t. I’ll arrest you for obstruction of justice if that’s what it takes.”
Disbelief rocketed through her. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
