Page 16 of The Survivor
“We don’t have time. This guy could be grabbing another woman as we speak. We have no clue what triggers him, why he decides to go out and commit murder.”
Sam remained firm. “She’s not ready to talk about what happened. She needs to trust me first.”
The implication settled in the pit of Blake’s stomach like a fifty-pound weight.
“Forget it,” he said flatly. “You’re not going back.”
Sam stood up and marched past him, stealing through the doorway and heading for the stairs. “I’m seeing her again tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder.
A shot of anger rocketed through him. He stormed after her, intercepting her before she could climb the first step. With his arms crossed over his chest, he shot her a menacing look. “I won’t allow it.”
“You don’t have any say in this, Blake.”
It was the first time she’d said his name out loud, and the way it slipped from her lush mouth sent another shock wave through him. Desire this time, and it went straight to his groin.
“The hell I don’t,” he shot back, ignoring his arousal.
Her eyes, empty before, now flashed with unrestrained rebellion. “She needs me. I’m going back. End of story.”
“For Christ’s sake, are you looking to get yourself killed? Wasn’t one near-death experience enough for you?”
Her jaw hardened. Shoving him aside, she charged up the stairs and disappeared into the second-floor hallway. A few seconds later, a door slammed.
“Real tactful.” Rick’s dry voice broke the silence.
Blake turned to face his partner, who’d appeared in the doorway. “She can’t go back there.”
“She shouldn’t,” Rick corrected. He shook his head. “But she can if she chooses to. And after your superb way of handling that, I’m guessing she will.”
Frustration boiled inside him, swirling in his stomach like a cluster of hornets until he clenched his fists to control himself. Goddamn it. It had been enough of a risk bringing Sam back to Chicago, taking her to a public place where anyone—includingthe killer—might recognize her. But letting her stay? Even for another hour, another day? That was a much bigger risk.
Blake shook his head. The damn file had never said how stubborn this woman was. Or fiery. Or shockingly sexy when she was angry. He’d always liked sassy women, the ones who never backed down from a challenge and didn’t mind throwing a few challenges of their own.
Kate had been like that—stubborn, determined, so much so that she’d convinced him to take her to the warehouse that night. The night she’d been killed.
A vise of pain swiftly tightened over his chest.
Well, this timehewould be the stubborn one. This situation didn’t allow room for challenges. Or mistakes. Or putting the life of a woman he was really starting to like in danger.
“I’ll call Knight. Maybe he can talk some sense into her, try and stop her,” Blake muttered.
Rick snorted. “I doubt even a bulldozer could stop her.”
* * *
Sam paced the small bedroom, fighting a losing battle in her mind. She wanted to call Beau. Wanted to hear her brother’s voice and have him tell her that she was making the right decision by staying. Wanted to forget Blake’s harsh comment and assure herself that Elaine Woodman needed her.
Calling Beau, however, wouldn’t help any. He’d only tell her the FBI agent was right and she should leave the city. And forgetting Blake’s remark wouldn’t work, either, considering that she was well aware of the danger she’d be putting herself in if she stayed.
But could she really go? When she’d left Elaine’s room earlier, she’d known in her heart that she couldn’t possibly turn tail and run without getting through to the girl. Elaine wasscarred. Physically. Emotionally. She’d told Sam she didn’t have any family, just a mother who’d passed away years before and a father who’d run out on them long before. The loneliness in the girl’s voice had struck a chord of sorrow in her. She couldn’t let Elaine lie there in that bed day in and day out, couldn’t let her drown in the pain, lose herself in anguished memories.
To hell with Blake and the FBI. She needed to do this. For the first time in months, she actually felt useful. Needed. She was tired of hiding away in that empty farmhouse, carrying around a shotgun and bursting into tears at any unfamiliar sound. What kind of life was that? What did that say about her? That she was a coward instead of a fighter?
She should’ve come back here a long time ago. Declined the new identity the FBI had given her, let the man who’d attacked her know she was alive anddaredhim to come find her. But she hadn’t been strong enough then. The wounds had been too fresh.
She reached into her overnight bag for the T-shirt she’d brought to sleep in. She wasn’t hiding anymore.
With the determined set of her jaw, she changed into her nightshirt and headed for the bathroom to wash the makeup from her face and brush her teeth. It wasn’t until she’d slid under the soft covers that she realized she hadn’t eaten a thing since leaving Wellstock this afternoon. Somehow, the hunger had gone unnoticed all night. Seeing Elaine had been too big a distraction, but her growling stomach refused to be ignored any longer.
