Mirror Me Page 18

  “Kayla—”

  “I got Hoss killed. Don’t you understand? He let his guard down because…” She stopped. Bit her lip.

  “You were sleeping with him,” Teige said bluntly.

  “No. We came close. He pulled back. But it was all distracting. I was lonely. He gave me the camera. He got me back into life.”

  “Or maybe you would’ve gotten there all on your own.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t. If you judge Hoss, you judge me.”

  “Bullshit. He’s the one who was paid to protect you. To be professional. If he couldn’t handle his feelings and his job, he should’ve stepped away as your watcher.”

  “So you can handle both?”

  “I’ve been telling myself that I like the military because war isn’t personal. But everything in life is motherfucking personal, and there are some things—some people—who are worth fighting for. I can fall in love with you and protect you. Trust me.”

  “I do,” she told him, a small smile on her lips. “That feels good to admit. I’m tired of not feeling.”

  “Who’s stopping you?”

  So much… “Me.”

  “So unstop.” His voice was teasing but his eyes were dead serious. She’d loved those eyes from the moment she’d seen them, a predator’s eyes in the dark.

  “I can’t try.”

  “I can help.”

  She glanced at her wrists, the red fading. “Good.”

  He hugged her, gathered her up and walked her upstairs to the bedroom. He tucked her in before she realized what was happening.

  He was putting her to bed. And he was going to leave her. Again. She could see it in his eyes and she fought like hell to stop him from putting her down on the mattress.

  “What the fuck, Kayla?”

  She clawed at him, until he restrained her and something seized inside her. She stilled, breathed. “Take me.”

  “You’re not thinking straight.”

  “Because of you, Teige.”

  She’d gone from soft and pliable to fighting again. And she was right—it was his fault. Leaving was what he did best. He’d finally met someone who wasn’t letting him get away from it, and she was prepared to fight for him.

  Kayla was yanking at him, clawing to keep him with her. Teige hadn’t been sure it was the time or place for this, but her battle to get him into bed was something he couldn’t resist. She ripped his shirt, stopped and looked surprised for a brief second before tearing it off him completely.

  He did the same to her, then began to pull her jeans down as she wrestled with his jeans. After several sweaty minutes, they were naked, kissing, biting, sucking, wanting, needing each other. She was groaning in his mouth, so goddamned wet for him that he slid inside her without warning. She arched up off the bed, calling his name.

  And then she wrapped around him and began to move against him.

  It was like being in a cage fight, and she was battling a hell of a demon. She fought to roll him onto his back, and he let her. He lay back, held onto her hips to drive her deeper, letting her fuck him. Because she had to. Because he wanted her to, and giving up control like this wasn’t easy.

  But it was so fucking worth it. The fire in her eyes, the flush of her cheeks, the triumph of learning to let go was simply fucking amazing.

  He pinched her nipples and she writhed. He bucked up into her and she slammed him back with a hand around his throat.

  She came with a scream. Collapsed on top of him. He waited until her breathing came easily and then, with no warning, he rolled her over and caught her wrists in his hands.

  He was still inside her. “It’s my turn. Don’t you move,” he told her.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Abby and Jacoby went back to Kayla’s house together. They swept it thoroughly, hoping to find something—anything—the detectives didn’t that would show Mara had been there.

  But it was clean. Mara was as good as her reputation, Abby supposed. She paced the room and stopped when she heard a creaking upstairs. She looked at Jacoby and they both said, “The damned ghost,” at the same time.

  She shook her head and laughed. “Dammit, maybe the ghost knows something we don’t.”

  “Can’t put him on a witness stand.” Jacoby stared at her. “I’ll keep things under control here—why don’t you take off and get some shut-eye? Decompress. No one’s getting to me or Kayla and Teige.”

  She knew what Teige was capable of and was beginning to have a glimmer of suspicion of what Jacoby could do as well. “I won’t be gone long.”

  “You’ve been up for forty-eight hours straight. You’ll do well with a nap and a shower. Grab your things and then we’ll set up here together,” Jacoby told her firmly, pointing to his bag. “That way, we’ll be able to take shifts.”

  It was coming to that. “And Diane?”

  Jacoby checked his phone and sent off a quick text. A couple of moments later, a reassuring ding had him nodding. “Safe and sound. No action today. No reports of any strangers in the area.”

  They were taking a chance by not letting the public know about Mara possibly being in their crosshairs—or vice-versa. But the identical twin concept would make things far too confusing for people, and made it more likely that Mara would stay away. And the point was to lure her in, although certainly not the way Kayla wanted to handle it. “Fine. I’ll be an hour, tops.”

  “Go. I’ll order us dinner. And yes, I’ll check in with Teige every ten.” That was their rule. Mara was dangerous enough to warrant that, and if she had help… “Abby, go,” Jacoby pressed gently.

  She knew why he was sending her off, and she couldn’t blame him. He wanted to see if she could clear her mind, shake off her own demons and come back to the house prepared for whatever might happen.

  There’s no shame in you not being able to handle this one, Abby. Say the word and you’ll be holed up with your brother and Kayla.

  In a non-working capacity, of course.

  “I won’t let him break me—I won’t let him win,” she whispered fiercely to herself on the ride home. It was the mantra she’d used for years after it happened. Because Teige was the one who’d reminded her that she’d won, she’d survived. Fought back.

  She still could.

  She went into her house, stripped out of her clothes and showered, a long hot one to ease her aching muscles. If she slept, it’d be for weeks and she’d rather do it under Jacoby’s watchful eye than risk leaving him and Teige and Kayla alone for longer than promised. She packed some clothes and ran her hands through her wet hair to keep it from tangling. It was then that her iPad began to ring.

  Ethan. She touched the Facetime screen and Ethan’s face appeared, shadowed and backlit. As usual, she could hear the sounds of shelling in the background. He was always in a war zone. Apparently, so was she. “Hey.”

  “Babe, I’ve been trying to reach you—what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Everything. Just a problem with work.” She desperately wanted to say it was under control, and it was on the tip of her tongue to give him that reassurance, but she couldn’t this time. “None of this is good.”

  “What’s not good—us?”

  “How would we know anymore? We’re never together. I can’t have a relationship only on Skype. Correction—I don’t want to.” It wasn’t right to take this out on him—she knew that, but suddenly she didn’t give much of a shit.

  “It’s been tough, I know. I’m almost at the end. We’re almost at the end of this.”

  He’d promised that before, years earlier. After six months at home, he went back out on this job. “I’m so damaged, E,” she whispered.

  “Not for me. Never for me.”

  She stared at him through the screen. “I don’t know. I…”

  “Wait for me, Abs. We’ll figure it out. It’s always worse when we’re not together.”

  That was true, but this was a long tour for Ethan. She wanted to tell him things, but hell, knowing him, he
already knew most everything.

  After they’d been together for six months, he’d told her he knew she’d nearly been brutally killed and that she’d seen enough violence to send most people screaming over the edge.

  She’d accused him of reading her files until she realized they were under lock and key because she’d been a juvenile. Because it was still a classified, open case. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Abs, wait—”

  “Tired, Ethan. Really just tired.” She hung up on him, then shut her iPad down and silenced her phone. Fuck it. Everyone could deal with not being able to get to her for ten minutes.

  In ten minutes, she could pull it all together. And even as she tried to convince herself of that, her hands began to shake. She took a shot of scotch to steady her nerves—because Ethan might be the one with the sight, but she had the knot in the pit of her stomach. And she couldn’t tell him that, was convinced, anyway, that it was more about her fears than anything surrounding him.

  She eyed the bottle, then pushed it away. She had to be on alert for Kayla. Even though she was staying with Teige, Kayla was her job. Her responsibility.

  And Jacoby’s. Can’t forget your partner.

  Staying close to Kayla would bring too much suspicion on her under normal circumstances, but these were anything but.

  Her bag was packed. She’d stay at Kayla’s house while Kayla stayed at Teige’s. Mara would surface soon. Diane was being watched, so even if Mara approached her, there was no place to turn.

  “No place to hide,” she muttered.

  “But I don’t need to. Not anymore.”

  Abby whirled around at the sound of the woman’s voice, gun drawn…and collapsed. For several sickening seconds, her body writhed helplessly on the ground, out of control as the volts of electricity from the Taser speared through her.

  *

  Teige had her Kayla on her hands and knees, her wrists tied, legs spread so wide she was totally off balance, held upright only on his whim.

  “You’re so tense,” he’d murmured against her cheek, his breath tickling her, an oddly gentle sensation that overwhelmed her more than the hard thrusts inside of her.

  “Like you wouldn’t be,” she snapped, and that earned her several slaps on her ass.

  “We’ll get rid of that.”

  “Where’s the we?” she asked. “I don’t see you tied up.”

  “If I was, I couldn’t help you like this.” His fingers and mouth were on her again, until she was practically sobbing with need.

  “Please, Teige—you have to…I want…”

  “What, baby?”

  “More. Just…more.”

  She was begging—and she got what she asked for—more spanking slaps on her ass. At first, she’d started at how the warm flush made her want more. More of his control, his touches…his face, buried between her legs, licking her until she whimpered and half collapsed, begging for him.

  Now she accepted that her being helpless and bent to his will turned him on, which turned her on. Giving him control ensured her pleasure. Such a simple power exchange…fueled by her trust, and his voice. He was giving the commands and she was following them. A slave to them and she loved it. Felt free for possibly the first time ever.

  This was what she needed.

  This would heal her. She didn’t know how or why, but the feeling that it would was embedded in her as surely as breathing.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Mara’s face hovered above her. Mara’s face—Kayla’s face—floating there, smiling, and that made this so much worse. Because Abby knew this was Mara, but Mara had cut her hair, colored it…and she was Kayla in this moment.

  Mara knew it too.

  When Abby opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Mara smiled, almost sympathetically. “The Taser shock will wear off soon enough.”

  As Abby lay on the floor, dealing with the aftershocks, Mara handcuffed her hands behind her back and dragged her over to the nearest chair. She tied Abby’s arms to the back of the chair and lashed her ankles to it as well.

  “Did you like the reminders I left for you?” Mara asked, with a casual toss of her hair, like they were girlfriends, comparing makeup tips. When Abby frowned, Mara said impatiently, “At Diane’s? I called you to the house to let you know I was there…I didn’t expect Diane to have a copy of the Black Magic Killer’s autobiography, but I couldn’t resist pulling out the best pages for you.” She smiled. “It’s one of my favorite books.”

  Abby felt the sinking in her stomach. “Diane texted us.”

  “Well, she did, yes. I told her to so technically that was true. That chick would do anything to stay alive and screw my sister over.”

  “I’d think you wouldn’t like that,” Abby muttered.

  “Well, I’ve pretty much scarred Diane for life, right? That’s something. Better than killing her, I think.” Mara shrugged. “She’s just a jealous bitch, but she was perfect for what I had planned.”

  Now that Abby’s vision had cleared, she could focus better on Mara. Her hair was the same shade as Kayla’s had been dyed—their original color underneath was a honeyed blond—and her eyes were as blue as Kayla’s, even more intense with the darker hair color. Their features? Identical. They really were identical. Same height and body type. And for someone who’d been on the run for years, she looked modern and fresh—her makeup was on point, her ripped jeans and black top trendy. She’d turn heads. And her personality was more magnetic than Kayla’s—Abby could literally feel her presence fill the room as she bounced around, making herself tea, chatting a mile a minute about the weather, the town, Abby’s house…

  “Are you okay?” Mara looked concerned, touched Abby’s cheek and then moved her fingers down to Abby’s neck, where the Taser had hit as Abby tried not to pull away in revulsion at the touches. “Shit, that left a big mark. Sorry about that.”

  “So don’t do it again,” Abby managed and Mara gave her a sardonic half smile.

  “We’ve got a lot in common.”

  “Right. Like what?”

  Mara took a sip of her tea. “Claire. My dad. Hoss…you know, at first, he thought he was luring me in to capture me,” Mara scoffed. “Men are so easy. So stupid when they lead with their dicks.”

  “Maybe, but women do stupid things all the time in the name of love.”

  Mara pointed at her. “You and I could’ve been friends…if this wasn’t our destiny.”

  Mara believed that so badly, it was apparent. And then she told Abby, “You don’t know if you trusted the wrong person. I mean, come on, Kayla could’ve killed Penny way more easily than Mara. Kayla took those pictures. She knew she could easily lure Penny into a trip to the airport with the promise of an audition. And the worst part is, Kayla’s been in bed with your brother. Did you bring evil into his life because you’re obsessed with evil? I know all about you from Hoss. He shared everything.”

  Bile rose in her throat. “Did he know…?” she managed to mouth.

  “Who I was? Of course. I helped him pick out the camera that got Kayla motivated again—from what I’ve seen, she’s getting lots of use out of it. And he was helping me prove that Claire belongs behind bars, not me.” She tilted her head to the side. “You don’t seem surprised.

  “I’m not surprised by anything men do,” Abby said flatly, her voice hoarse and strange to her own ears.

  “Is that man you were talking to a cheater too?” Mara asked. “They all are, honey. They can’t help it—we can either accept it and have our own fun or get mad all the time. And I’m tired of being mad.”

  Abby couldn’t help it—she laughed.

  “I know—you must think I’m angry all the time and that’s why I’ve killed.” Mara sighed. “It’s part of it, but most of the time, I’m a very even person.”

  Charming, even, Abby thought to herself. Just like Kayla had mentioned—Abby could definitely see Mara with a large group of friends around. “Kayla…she talks about you a lot.


  “Claire, you mean? She’s always tried to outsmart me.” Mara shrugged. “I’m so many steps ahead of her…because right now, she’s waiting for me. She’s making herself bait. Luring me. But I’m way more interested in the friends she’s finally made.”

  “I’m not her friend,” Abby snapped.

  “No, I wouldn’t think you’d like her very much,” Mara mused. “She tends to bite the hand that feeds her, right?”

  Abby nodded, because going along with Mara was her best chance of staying alive long enough to be found. “I’ve noticed. She’s difficult.”

  Mara laughed. “You’re not sure if agreeing with me is going to piss me off or get me on your side, so you’re trying to be diplomatic.”

  It was Abby’s turn to shrug. “You’re family. Family’s always complicated as hell.”

  “True.” Mara frowned. “If she’d just come to me before this…” Then she waved her hand. “Forget it. Past is past, no matter what they say.”

  “Is it though, for you? Because you seem to be constantly reliving it.”

  Mara waggled a finger at her. “Touché, Marshal Daniels.”

  “But Claire doesn’t know much about it.”

  “Or so she claims.” Mara countered, checking her watch. “I won’t lose track of the time, by the way. Talk or not, you’ll be dead before anyone can help you.”

  Abby’s gut tightened and she forced herself to ignore the end of Mara’s sentence. “You really think she’s that good of a liar? Because I’ve seen through all the lies she’s told me. She’d have to go a long way to pretend to be an amnesiac.”

  Her words sounded casual to her own ears. Despite the bindings, she tried to keep her muscles loose, her pose as relaxed as it could be, hearing Dad’s voice in her head.

  Every killer messes up at some point. You’ve just got to pray it’s on your watch.

  Chapter Thirty

  In the aftermath, Teige lay on his back with Kayla curled against his side. “Did I wear you out?”