Harlequin Intrigue April 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 Carol Ericson (short books to read TXT) 📖

and armed the system, but her internal walls were already crumbling. From the moment he’d walked through the front door three nights ago, Dylan had chipped at the edges of her armor while simultaneously making her feel as though she had control. The sandwiches, the kisses, the way he’d held her in the shower. It had all been a lie. A ploy to obtain her trust and the resources she commanded. And it had worked. She’d actually believed there could’ve been more to them than the occasional stress relief. She’d believed she was enough. For him, for the victims of their investigations, for the witnesses they’d been assigned to protect.

Tears trailed down her cheeks. “None of it was real.” The words took shape, became real. She didn’t love him. How could she love someone who’d never really existed?

Turning back to the living room, she fought against the ache in the center of her chest. The pain in her side extended across her midsection, and Remi collapsed into the side of the bookcase. The books toppled one after the other onto the floor at her feet. She closed her eyes against the oncoming dizziness, but it never surfaced. No. This wasn’t the familiar gnaw of exhaustion or the loss of adrenaline leaving her empty. A gut-wrenching nausea stole the air from her lungs.

A sob escaped up her throat, and suddenly she was back in that cave, desperate for a single molecule of light to cut through the darkness. She pressed her fingers into the smooth wood, but in her mind, it was as coarse as thousands of tons of rock holding her prisoner, and Remi found herself completely and utterly alone. She heard nothing but the sound of her own breathing, and she hurt at the thought of never seeing the man who’d pulled her from the strangling grip of the past.

It was dark. It was cold. It was lonely.

Only, no one was coming to save her this time.

HE’D BECOME A SUSPECT.

Dirt and gravel crunched under his boots as he headed toward his SUV. He’d known it would’ve only been a matter of time. It’d been impossible for him to ensure he hadn’t left any trace inside Howe’s cabin after the struggle, but he’d left the killer alive and breathing. Bloody, but alive.

Dylan wrenched the driver’s-side door open and hauled himself inside. Studying the shadows creeping across the main window, he tried to make out movement on the other side of the glass, but he knew better. Remi wouldn’t make herself a target by standing in front of the damn window. She was too smart for that.

Hell, there was no way to prove he hadn’t been the one to kill the New Castle Killer without more evidence, especially without DNA tying another suspect to the murder. But that didn’t compare to the betrayal he’d witnessed in Remi’s features when she’d put his motive together.

Remi had been right. The notes he’d kept in his apartment, the surveillance photos he’d taken of Howe over the past year—he’d used her and her position within the marshals service to track the serial killer they hadn’t been able to apprehend in Delaware.

While he’d convinced himself his reasons had been justified at the time, he felt as though he was treading water as the hollowness in his chest grew more determined to pull him under. Because this time, his choices had put more than one life at risk. This wasn’t about catching one killer anymore. This was about keeping Remi alive.

He considered turning back, but Dylan started the vehicle and put the safe house and Remi in the rearview mirror. He’d made a mistake by not listening to Tad Marrow all those years ago. He wasn’t going to let this mistake define the rest of his life. Not when he could do something about it.

Suburban houses blurred in his vision as he sped across downtown Gresham. The hikers who’d claimed they’d noticed Howe’s body through the window had lied. If he tracked down the woman—Annabell Ross—to get a description of her hiking partner that day, he might be able to narrow down which of the New Castle Killer’s victims had attacked Remi or eliminate them from suspicion completely. Only trouble was finding her. Gresham PD hadn’t been able to make contact after the duo had given their statements. No answer on her cell phone. No response at her residence. They hadn’t been able to enter without a warrant, permission or signs of a struggle, but that didn’t mean Annabell couldn’t help.

The pain in his side flared as he filled his lungs. No amount of calm breaths would settle the pounding of his pulse behind his ears. Not when the cracks in Remi’s expression after she’d learned the truth replayed over and over in his head.

Now I know I’m never going to be...good enough for you. Her slurred confession undid him, and he strengthened his hand on the steering wheel. Wasn’t good enough for him? Hell, Remington Barton was better than he could ever be. She challenged him. Gave his life meaning. She exemplified strength. And he’d hurt her. Worse. He’d betrayed her after she’d trusted him with her deepest vulnerabilities and let him see her at her weakest. He pressed his free hand down his face. She was the best investigator he’d had the pleasure of working with, and he’d taken advantage of her for his own revenge. Not good enough for him? That wasn’t possible. Remi was everything to him. “Damn it.”

He’d fix this. He’d find the missing hiker to get more information on her partner, and he’d end the sick game closing in around them. At least then, Remi would be safe. He followed the GPS on his phone to the address given by the witness in her statement to Gresham PD and pulled up in front of the house when his phone chirped with his arrival.

A sprinkling of hot summer rain streaked down the passenger-side window as he surveyed the witness’s property. The