Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
“What happens if there is a choice between saving myself or saving my partner? Dumb question. There is no choice. Emerson will always come first. Always.” – Gray Stone
He had a colossal hard-on. His dick ached, he wanted to drive balls-deep into Emerson, but he had a killer—correction, a freaking pair of killers to hunt down—a traitor to root out, and, oh, yeah…
He was in love.
Emerson’s panties were in Gray’s pocket.
He hadn’t meant to take them as a souvenir.
Not like they were a trophy. He wasn’t one of the serials that he hunted.
Truly, he wasn’t. No matter what the gossip might claim.
But after he’d accidentally ripped her panties, it hadn’t been like she could put them back on, and he certainly hadn’t been in the mood to leave her panties for that overly muscled jerk Angel to find.
Angel is on my suspect list, too. He’d already texted Malik a list of individuals to investigate.
Hannah, naturally, was at the top of the list. But then there was the bellhop, Justin.
The friendly paddleboard guy, Theo. The freaking too attractive Angel.
Everywhere he turned, a new suspect walked into his path.
He and Emerson were in agreement that they were after partners.
Hannah set off every alarm bell he had, so he knew she was one of the potential killers.
He’d bet her partner was a male, and that was why all of the other suspects he’d sent to Malik had been men.
Hannah and her partner were probably sleeping together.
So the next step was figuring out who seemed particularly interested in Hannah.
Back at the spa, Gray had intended to play the role of the jealous lover. Only when Gray had actually entered that small room and seen the other guy so close to Emerson, when he’d thought of Angel putting his hands on her…
Emerson belongs to me.
A savage thought, totally not rational given the situation, he got that. A freaking massage. But…
Maybe he wasn’t a rational guy. Maybe he was too savage. Especially when his emotions were involved.
I love Emerson. He’d realized that fact, well, to be honest, he’d been dancing around the truth since Emerson had taken him down in the training room.
She’d knocked him off his feet, literally. Figuratively. Every single way imaginable. And the tangle of emotion that he felt for her just got stronger with every moment that passed.
Was he still trying to understand her?
Hell, yes.
Still trying to unwrap the many mysteries that made her into the person she was?
Again, hell, yes.
But he was figuring her out.
Emerson wasn’t emotionally fragile as Nathaniel Hadaway had claimed. Quite the opposite. She was fierce. Determined.
She was loyal and strong and when he was with her, Gray could imagine a future for himself. One that wasn’t just focused on monsters and killers. He could imagine a future with a little girl on his shoulders. A girl with her mother’s unforgettable eyes.
He wanted it all. A marriage. A home. A family. Emerson.
If he worked hard enough, maybe he could convince her that dream was something she could want, too. He could prove himself to her.
After they stopped the current killers they were after, of course.
“When did you start suspecting Hannah?” Emerson asked. They were on their way to the stables. Horseback riding. The next item that had been posted on River’s social media account during her honeymoon trip.
Gray glanced over his shoulder as they walked along the narrow trail. No one was close by. They could speak freely. Actually, when they’d left the spa room, no one had been around there, either. No sign of Angel.
Not even a person at the spa’s check-in desk.
His senses were on high alert. He had a gun tucked in a holster on his ankle, one hidden beneath the khaki pants he wore. A gun on the right ankle. A knife strapped to the left.
“Gray?”
He stopped in the middle of the trail and angled his head toward her.
“I thought that, in order to get the home addresses of the vics, we would be looking for a perp who had full access to the information on all the guests. With her position, I knew Hannah would have that access. The woman is really good at controlling her tells, I noticed that the first time we talked.”
Emerson hummed. “I noticed that, too.”
“She did a half-step retreat today,” Gray remembered. Something that had immediately fired alarm bells in his head. “When you asked about signing the registry.”
“She knew we weren’t a real married couple. She didn’t want us to sign.”
He nodded, agreeing. He could have sworn that he heard some kind of…
thunder in the distance. Weird, when the sky was perfectly clear.
“It was like she was so physically against the idea of us being in the precious book that she couldn’t handle it.
She retreated. An absolute denial. A physical reaction. ”
“We don’t have proof, Gray. We have suspicions, and we have—do you hear that?”
Yes, yes, he damn well did. “Emerson…” His head whipped to the left.
Horses raced straight toward him. Toward Emerson. A tight pack of horses galloped hard and fast. Horses that should have been secured in the stables but were running straight at them. Barreling with wild eyes and desperate hooves.
The horses were coming so quickly that if he and Emerson didn’t haul ass, they’d be crushed beneath the stampede. In a flash, he imagined what those pounding hooves would do to Emerson’s body.
Fuck, no. Without hesitation, he grabbed Emerson. He wrapped his body around hers even as he tried to hurtle them out of the way. They didn’t make it. Or, he didn’t. At the last moment, he shoved Emerson hard, pushing her off that path and thrusting her to safety.
He could feel the breath of the horses on his neck. Then Gray went down. A hoof slammed into his shoulder. Another rushed over the back of his thigh.
He tasted dirt in his mouth. He could hear the wild cries of the horses. The screeches.
And…
“Gray! Gray!” Emerson’s screams. He could hear Emerson’s screams.
No, no, no, no. Emerson watched in horror as the horses galloped away. They’d stirred up dirt and dust or who the hell knew what in their wake. They’d come from the stables, rushing furiously, and shouldn’t attendants have been chasing them? Shouldn’t someone be there?
“Gray!” He’d shoved her to safety. Damn the man. He should have gotten himself to safety. But one minute, he’d been covering her, shielding her, and then he’d been throwing her out of the way.
Only for him to go down beneath the hooves.
The thunder of the hoofbeats echoed in her ears. It pounded over and over, like thunder that just wouldn’t stop.
“Dad, Dad, where are you?” A child’s voice—her voice—echoing in her mind. Because there had been thunder that terrible night, too, so much thunder.
Emerson climbed to her feet. Her knees were bleeding, scratched, as she ran back to Gray. He was face down on the ground, with his right leg drawn up close to his body. His right arm was beneath him. His head turned toward where she’d been moments before.
His eyes are closed.
She reached out. Her first instinct was to touch him, to make sure he was okay.
How can he be okay? He was just caught in a stampede with thundering horses. Seven horses. Eight?
Was his spine injured? His neck? He couldn’t be moved until he was stabilized. She had to call for help. Dammit, where were the other FBI agents? The others were their backup. They were?—
A twig snapped.
Emerson leapt back to her feet and whirled toward the sound.
“Does it hurt?” Hannah asked as she walked from beneath a nearby tree.
“I-I’m not injured.” The blood on her legs was nothing. “Gray is. We have to get Gray help!”
Hannah’s arm lifted. She held a gun in her right hand. “He’s not going to get help. He’s already dead.”
No, no, she’d seen his body moving. Hadn’t she? Her fingers hadn’t touched him, not yet, but Emerson was sure Gray was alive. There was just no other option for her.
“Come here, Emerson,” Hannah ordered her.
She stayed exactly where she was. “Why are you holding a gun on me?”
“Don’t play dumb.” Hannah took another step forward. “I know what you are.”
“ My husband is hurt! We have to get help!”
“He’s not your husband. Don’t waste my time with more lies.” Her left hand came up from behind her body. The right hand gripped the gun. The left held a syringe.
Emerson maintained her position between Gray’s sprawled form and Hannah.
“Even before I got the phone call today,” Hannah continued, voice grim, “I knew. I met up with your buddy Rylan late last night. Guy probably thought he’d give me some drinks, my tongue would get loose, and I’d say something to help with the big investigation you seem to have going on here at my resort. ”
“Gray needs help,” Emerson whispered.
“But Rylan never noticed when I slipped a few special drops in his drink. Suddenly, he couldn’t stop talking to me. Telling me how important he was. Telling me that he was hunting a serial killer. That he was part of an undercover team.”
Rylan.
“Then a helpful phone call came right when you approached my desk today. An anonymous, Good Samaritan who wanted to speak with someone in charge. Of course, I am the person in charge at the resort. Suddenly, there was a rasping voice telling me that I needed to know individuals at my resort were using fake identities. Maybe even fake credit cards. That I had to check you out. Investigate. Even gave me a full, physical description of you and your partner .” Mocking laughter.
“As if I didn’t get suspicious when you magically found the cameras.
I already know about your nosy night walk last night. Harris told me.”
“Harris?”
“The night guard you encountered.” Hannah surged forward.
Emerson held her ground. That woman was not getting near Gray.
“Harris saw you. He reported to me. Everyone reports to me. I am the resort. ”
“Pretty sure the owner of the place might disagree.”