“He held me down…then he carved me up so I wouldn’t forget.” Tears flowed freely down her face. The cloying smell of her attacker’s cheap cologne and sweat haunted her. The sound of his low, wheezy voice echoed in her ears. “He told me the next time he’d kill my mother and make me watch, then he’d finish me off.”
CARTER SANK DOWN onto the club chair, his mind struggling to register Sadie’s story.
Part of him wanted to deny her claims. Accuse her of lying. Demand she go to the cops, tell the truth and exonerate him.
But her story…her tone sounded so sincere. Riddled with pain and guilt.
And that scar…on her chest. It hadn’t been there when he’d slept with her the first time. And he barely remembered crawling in bed with her the second. It was deep and puckered and was only inches from her heart. He’d been in enough knife fights himself to know it had been a serious injury.
All because of him.
His hands shook in front of him as he stared at the gun he’d held on her, and shame filled him. Of all the explanations he’d expected to hear, the excuses, the lies, the cunning act he’d thought she’d put on to save her own life, nothing had prepared him for this.
On the heels of shock, rage choked him. Who in the hell had framed him and terrorized Sadie?
He slowly lifted his head and looked up at her. The anguish in her expression robbed his breath. The instinct to go to her and hold her, to protect her, surged through him. But he needed answers, so he remained rooted to the spot. Still, he couldn’t drag his eyes off that X carved on her chest between her breasts.
An X to remind her that the sick bastard was watching and could easily kill her.
Sadie averted her eyes as if she was ashamed, her fingers fumbling clumsily to rebutton her blouse.
Fury that some man had assaulted her and scarred her like that ate at him. The man had obviously wanted to destroy her beauty as well as terrorize her with his threats.
The SOB would not get away with it. If—no, when Carter found him, he’d carve him up just as he had done Sadie.
“Who was he?” Carter asked in a thick voice.
Sadie wiped at the tears trickling down her cheeks. “I told you, I don’t know.”
His gaze shot to hers. “What do you mean, you don’t know? You saw his face, didn’t you?”
Sadie made a pained sound in her throat. “I…yes, but it was dark. So dark, I’m not sure I would recognize him.”
Or maybe she’d blocked it out because of the trauma. “Had you ever seen him before? Maybe in the bar?”
Her small shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I…don’t know. Maybe. But there were men like him in the bar every night. Men pawing at me and watching me. I…tried to ignore them.”
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “What do you remember?”
She sighed, another sound of pain rumbling from her. Then her eyes glazed over, taking on a distant look, as if she was reliving the nightmare. “He was big, almost as tall as you but heavier. And his head was shaved.” She bunched her skirt in between her fingers. “He smelled like cheap cologne and sweat and beer.”
She was right. That description could fit half the men in Texas, especially at that low-rent bar where she’d been working.
He cleared his throat. “Go on.”
She scrubbed at her cheeks as if annoyed with herself for crying. “At first, I was in shock. I…didn’t know where to go.”
“If you’d called the police, they could have protected you and your mother.” And he would never have gone to jail. “And they might have been able to use DNA to track down the bastard who attacked you.”
Her eyes flared with derision. “I worked in a bar, Carter. I’m Native American, too. I know how the police work. They would have made me out to be some kind of tramp.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “Besides, my mother was dying of cancer. I was all she had. I could barely afford to care for her, much less drag her through a scandal.”
“So you just let him get away?” Carter asked, incredulous.
Sadie folded her hands into fists by her sides. “I wanted to come forward, Carter. Believe me, I did. But I told you I was in shock. In fact, the first few weeks after the attack, I was so weak and disoriented I couldn’t even get out of bed, much less remember the details of what happened.”
A seed of hope burst through the darkness eating Carter’s soul. “But you went to the hospital, right? So they have records—”
“I didn’t go to the hospital,” Sadie said in a low voice.
Disappointment shot through Carter. “No hospital. Why?”
“Because I thought he’d find me there. That he’d kill my mother and then finish me off.” She paced to the adjoining kitchen and glanced out the window, her body shuddering as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I didn’t know where to turn, so I called a friend from the reservation. He came and took me there to recover, and so the shaman could treat my wound.”
Carter cursed, strode to her and swung her around to face him. All this time he’d banked on Sadie having the answers he needed to clear himself. He couldn’t accept the fact that she didn’t. “So you’re telling me we have nothing. No evidence. That you can’t identify this man—”
Her face crumpled. “I’m sorry, Carter. I—”
Something rattled outside, jerking his attention, and he threw up a finger to shush her. She tensed, her eyes widening, as he peered through the window at the alley.
A shadow moved across the glass pane then suddenly something crashed through the window where they were standing.
Sadie screamed. Carter jerked her down to the floor as glass sprayed the counter and carpet.
Suddenly smoke began to billow through the room, stinging his eyes and throat.
Dammit. It was a pipe bomb.
Whoever had set it off wanted to kill them.
Chapter Three
Sadie dove down beside Carter, coughing as thick smoke clouded the room. “My God, what’s happening?”
“It’s a pipe bomb. Come on, we have to get outside.” Carter grabbed her hand. “Stay behind me and keep low.” He wielded his gun as if he was ready to shoot, then tugged her toward the kitchen and the back door.
Sadie grabbed her shoulder bag on the way out, her heart racing. The man who’d attacked her… He knew Carter had escaped. He’d been following her.
All those shadows the past few days, the sensation of someone watching her, of someone breathing down her neck…it had been real.
He had come back to kill her, to kill them both.…
Carter pushed open the back door and she ducked behind him, clinging to his hand as they stepped onto the tiny cement patio. She struggled to inhale a breath, desperate to escape the smoke, and rubbed her beads, murmuring a Navajo prayer for her and Carter’s safety.
When she opened her eyes, though, the air smelled rancid and dank, and the alley was dark and filled with more shadows.
“Come on,” Carter whispered.
The sweltering heat plastered Sadie’s hair to her skin and clothes as Carter tugged her around the corner of a dilapidated brick building. She nearly stumbled over a pile of garbage someone had thrown in the street, and clung to Carter to keep from falling.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her