Confessions, Page 2

  He stepped toward her, touched her and felt the jolt slide all the way through him. Ten years...ten years...and it was still there. The awareness. The need.

  Did she feel it, too?

  Focus. “Slow down,” Grant told her, trying to keep his voice level and calm. “Just take it easy. You’re safe here.” With me.

  But that wasn’t exactly true. She was in the most danger when she was with him. Only Scarlett had never realized that fact.

  “Say you’ll help me,” she pleaded. Her tone was desperate. She had a soft voice, one that was perfect for whispering in the dark. A voice that had tempted a boy...and sure as hell made the man he’d become think sinful thoughts.

  “I’ll help you,” Grant heard himself say instantly. So he still had the same problem—he couldn’t deny her anything.

  Her shoulders sagged in apparent relief. “You’ve changed.” Then her hand rose. Her fingers skimmed over his jaw, rasping against the five o’clock shadow that roughened his face. They were so close right then. And memories collided between them.

  When she’d been eighteen, he’d always been so careful with her. He’d had to maintain his control at every moment. But that control had broken one summer night, weeks after her eighteenth birthday...

  I can still feel her around me.

  “Grant?”

  She wasn’t eighteen any longer.

  And his control—

  He heard voices then, coming from the lobby.

  “Keep your promise,” Scarlett said.

  What the hell?

  He pulled away from her and walked toward the door.

  Those voices were louder now. Because they were...shouting for Scarlett?

  “Scarlett Stone...!”

  “They were behind me.” Her words rushed out. “I knew they were closing in, but I wanted to get to you.”

  He hated the fear in her voice. “You’re safe.”

  “No, I’m not.” She sounded so certain.

  Grant opened his office door. Two men were in the lobby. One wore a suit—expensive, well cut. The other was wearing a faded leather jacket and had a badge clipped to his belt.

  Why is a cop looking for Scarlett? And it wasn’t just any cop. Grant recognized Shayne Townsend because he and the detective had worked a few cases in the past.

  “What’s happening here?” Grant demanded.

  The guy in the suit narrowed his eyes on him. “Who are you?”

  Grant’s brows rose. He sure didn’t like that arrogant, demanding tone. “Grant McGuire. This is my business you’re in.”

  Shayne looked over Grant’s shoulder. His eyes narrowed and Grant knew he had spied Scarlett. “Ms. Stone,” the detective murmured, his face determined. “You need to come with us.”

  Us? Was the other guy a cop, too? Because Grant didn’t recognize him.

  But when the suit advanced, Grant braced his legs apart and gave the guy a go-to-hell stare. “She doesn’t need to go anyplace. But you two...unless you have some sort of reason for being on my property, a warrant—”

  “We’re here for Scarlett,” the suit said. His blue eyes were blazing with fury. “You can’t run anymore, Scarlett.”

  She had been running...

  Shayne pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Scarlett Stone...” His voice was heavy, emotionless. Grant knew the detective tried to never let emotion influence him on the job. “You’re under arrest.”

  “What?” Grant roared.

  Scarlett walked past him then, heading right toward the cop. She’d known the officer was hunting her? That Shayne Townsend was tracking her to Grant’s office?

  A cuff snicked around one delicate wrist.

  “Are those necessary?” Grant demanded. Sure, he’d seen plenty of criminals get cuffed, but Scarlett was no criminal. She was...Scarlett.

  “You can bet they’re necessary!” the suit all but shouted back at him.

  The guy was getting on Grant’s last nerve.

  “You’re under arrest for the murder of Eric Turner,” Shayne told her, as the other cuff slid into place. “You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney—”

  Grant shook his head. This wasn’t happening. “Scarlett?”

  “I didn’t do it,” she said, glancing over at him with tears in her eyes.

  “Yes, you did,” the suit snarled. “You killed my brother!”

  Oh, hell.

  Scarlett was still looking at Grant. “I need you,” she said.

  And he nodded.

  I need you, too. When Shayne started to lead her from the lobby, Grant made damn sure he left with them.

  * * *

  SHE COULDN’T STOP SHAKING. Scarlett had been fingerprinted, searched, caged...the nightmare wouldn’t end.

  She was in a cell, a small nine-by-ten-foot space that smelled of antiseptic and waste. She was afraid to move. Afraid to speak.

  Terrified.

  Grant has to keep his promise. Right then, he was her only hope.

  She’d known that the cops were after her. She’d pulled into her condo’s parking lot, seen Detective Shayne Townsend waiting...and she’d panicked. She’d driven away as fast as she could, and gone to the only man who could help her.

  If he would help her.

  She’d been back in Austin for only about a year. She’d deliberately stayed away from Grant during that time, but she’d known he was in the city. He and his brothers had all come home five years before.

  When their parents had been murdered.

  And now here I am...in a cell, accused of murder.

  He was probably rethinking his promise to help her. Probably getting ready to turn his back on her and just walk away. If he hadn’t already.

  Her head sagged forward. This couldn’t be happening to her. It was a nightmare.

  A door opened, metal scraping over the floor. It was the door that led back to the holding area where she was currently secured. She heard footsteps approaching, but Scarlett didn’t look up. She didn’t want the guards to see her fear.

  The fear that was consuming her.

  “Did you do it?”

  That wasn’t a guard’s voice. It was his voice. Grant’s.

  Her head shot up even as she surged to her feet and leaped toward the bars. Grant stood on the other side of them, looking grim, dangerous.

  Strong.

  Same old Grant. Time had sure been kind to him.

  “I told you...I didn’t.” Her fingers curled around the bars. They were cold to the touch. “I’m being set up. I could never kill anyone!”

  “I talked to Detective Townsend. Shayne and I...we know each other...”

  Because Shayne Townsend had worked on the murder case involving Grant’s parents? Oh, this was not going well at all.

  “Your fingerprints were on the knife that killed the victim, Scarlett.”

  “Because I’d used the knife before. Used it for making a meal...not to kill Eric. I would never do something like that. Never!”

  Grant’s jaw locked. “You were seen arguing with your...your fiancé.”

  Her hold tightened on the bars. “He wasn’t my fiancé anymore. That’s why we were arguing.” She shook her head. “I know it looks bad—”

  “His blood was on your clothes!”

  She flinched. Grant had definitely had a long talk with the detective. “Because I found him. I thought he might still be alive, and I was trying to save Eric.” But he’d already been gone and so cold. Blood had soaked his shirt and pooled beneath him. She closed her eyes, wishing she could shut out that sight, but it was burned into her memory. “I know the evidence is pointing to me, but I didn’t do it.”

  Grant’s fingers brushed over hers.

 
; Scarlett’s eyes flew open. He had aged so well over the years. The innocence of his youth was gone, replaced by an appearance of rugged power. His face was leaner, but still as handsome. Always handsome... Sculpted lips—lips that some thought held a cruel edge, but she’d always thought his mouth was sexy. Always thought he was sexy. A faint scar curved over his square jaw, a silent testimony to the battles he’d fought over the years.

  His eyes...that green was harder now, too. He stared out at the world—at her—with suspicion.

  The boy she’d loved was gone.

  The man who’d taken his place was a stranger.

  “I used to be able to tell when you were lying to me.” His voice was low, measuring.

  Her breath had stilled in her lungs. “I’m not lying,” she forced herself to say. I’m just desperate. So afraid.

  His fingers curled fully around hers as her right hand fisted around the bar. “Why weren’t you engaged any longer?”

  That was the question he asked her? Her gaze shifted to his throat. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes then. She couldn’t. “Because I couldn’t marry a man I didn’t love.”

  “Scarlett...”

  Stare into his eyes. Do it! She lifted her gaze. “You’re a private detective now. You have your own agency, and I’ve—I’ve read stories about you and your brothers. How successful you are.” Not just there in Austin, but all over Texas. Heck, all over the South and up the East Coast. They weren’t just some local branch of PIs. They were a force to be reckoned with.

  Once upon a time, folks in the area had whispered about the five McGuire boys...boys who’d been wild and reckless. Who’d had a reputation for trouble.

  Then those boys had all joined the military.

  Grant had been a ranger. Davis and Brodie, the twins, had become SEALs. Mac had been in Delta Force and the youngest brother, Sullivan, had morphed into a marine with a brutal edge.

  They’d all been serving their country. They’d been steadfast in their duty. Until their parents had been murdered.

  And now I’ve brought Grant into another murder investigation.

  Being involved in her case had to be the last thing he wanted, but he truly was her best chance of survival. “If anyone can prove that I’m innocent,” she added, “it will be you.”

  She was innocent.

  “I can pay you,” she said, the words tumbling out. “Name a price, I’ll pay anything...do anything—”

  His head tilted as he studied her. “Yes, you will.”

  Her heart thundered in her chest. “You’ll help me? You won’t leave me on my own?”

  “I don’t break my promises.” He towered over her. Grant was easily six foot three, and his body was pure sculpted power. “I gave you my word, and I’ll stick to it.”

  The relief Scarlett felt almost made her dizzy.

  “But you will owe me.” He backed away, and Scarlett immediately missed his touch. “And I’ll be collecting on everything you owe.” Grant gave her a nod. Then his gaze swept around the cell and his face hardened. “First order of business will be getting you the hell out of here.”

  That wasn’t happening. At least, not tonight. She wasn’t supposed to go before a judge until the next day. Then he might keep holding her... What if I don’t get out at all? All during the trial, locked up. Scarlett trembled.

  “I’m scared.” That confession broke from her. She didn’t know what strings Grant had pulled to get access to her, but she was just grateful to have him there with her. The years—the distance—had vanished, and she found herself being able to confess to him as easily as she’d shared all her secrets years ago.

  At her words, his face hardened even more. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  She leaned closer to the bars, closer to him. “Grant—”

  The metal door opened again. “Time’s up, McGuire!” a loud voice called.

  Grant didn’t turn away, not yet. “Trust me,” he told her.

  She nodded. She’d always trusted Grant.

  He backed away.

  Her eyes were on him until the heavy metal door swung shut once more. Scarlett kept holding the cold cell bars as she wondered how her life had wound up like this...

  You still love him! You think I don’t know? You think I’m not aware of what you’ve been doing, all this time? Eric’s voice thundered through her mind. Their last night together. Their last argument.

  She’d never expected things to turn so ugly with Eric. Never expected the fight to get so bad. She’d given him back the ring that fateful night. She’d told him she just couldn’t marry him.

  He’d scared her that night, when she’d always thought he was such a safe guy before.

  Maybe Grant would never need to know the full truth about what had happened. Because she had changed a lot in the past ten years. And now...now Grant wouldn’t be able to tell when she was lying.

  She’d grown too used to lies.

  * * *

  IT WAS HAPPENING. The cops had finally taken in Scarlett Stone. The grand jury had indicted her. There wasn’t going to be an escape this time.

  She’d pay for what she’d done.

  She’d suffer.

  This payback...it was such a long time coming. He’d had to plan so carefully to make certain that he struck Scarlett at her weakest point.

  Had the woman really believed that she’d get away from him? That she’d find some ridiculous happy ending with another man?

  No, Scarlett...that will never happen.

  He’d taken away her dreams. Now...now the justice system would take away her life. He’d be sure to attend all the court proceedings. Watching her suffer would be so rewarding.

  You’ll suffer, just the way I did.

  Scarlett had wrecked his life, and now she was about to see just how much pain she could endure.

  She would have nothing. No one.

  In the end, he’d be the only one there, laughing as she was taken away—forever.

  Chapter Two

  The judge had granted bail. The judge had granted bail. But...

  It was too high. Scarlett turned to her lawyer, thanking him for what he’d done. “I don’t have that much money, Pierce.” Pierce Jennings had been the best lawyer she could afford. And he’d done his job—he’d gotten bail.

  Pierce, perfectly polished as always in his designer suit, patted her hand. “Don’t worry.” His bright green eyes connected with her stare. “I’ve been assured the bail is already covered.”

  What?

  The judge was leaving the bench. Scarlett was about to be taken away again. Her gaze darted into the crowded courtroom behind her. Reporters were there. Faces she’d never seen. Eric’s brother, Justin, glared at her from his seat behind the prosecutor and—

  “Scarlett.”

  Grant appeared, just a few feet from her, as he pushed through the crowd. When he reached her, his fingers curled over her shoulders. “You’ll be out by dusk,” he promised her. His eyes glittered. “You’ll be with me.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t...I don’t have that much money.” Maybe if she mortgaged her condo and sold her car and—

  “You’ll be with me,” he said again, sounding absolutely certain, and she realized that Grant was planning to put up bail for her.

  “You can’t!” It was too much.

  “It’s already done.” He squeezed her shoulder. She knew the reporters had to be avidly watching this scene. How long would it be before someone dug into her past and found out about her history with Grant?

  Not long at all.

  “I’ll be waiting for you,” Grant promised her.

  She was about to be led away from him. Reporters were shouting at her. Justin’s glare could have melted a glacier, but—r />
  Grant was the only person who mattered to her then. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He inclined his head.

  * * *

  THE REPORTERS WERE GONE. The crowd had finally thinned. Grant paced in the narrow hallway, waiting for Scarlett to be released.

  She’d been held too long. She’d been too pale. Her eyes too desperate in that courtroom.

  “My brother was right...”

  Grant swung around at the low, rough voice. Justin Turner stalked toward him. He’d made it a point of learning the guy’s identity right away.

  The guy’s suit was rumpled, his eyes bloodshot. Justin lifted his hand and pointed his shaking finger at Grant. “You were sleeping with his fiancée.”

  What in the hell?

  “He told me that she was involved with someone else. Even mentioned your name.” Justin Turner’s laughter was cold. “I told him that he was wrong. Scarlett seemed so good, so perfect. I thought he had to be wrong about her.” The man raked a hand through his dark hair. “But he wasn’t.”

  Grant’s shoulders tightened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t I? I watched you in that courtroom. You couldn’t take your eyes off her. And the way you touched her...” Disgust flashed over his face.

  Grant shook his head. “You’re drunk.” He could smell the booze wafting off the guy.

  “He was my brother! You’ve got brothers of your own...how would you feel if a woman killed one of them? A woman who claimed to be in love, then turned and attacked—”

  The door opened behind Grant. He shifted his body and saw Scarlett standing in the doorway. The light shone off her blond hair, and when she saw Grant, a tentative smile lifted the edges of her full lips.

  “Her lover...” Justin snarled. “Eric was right.”

  Her smile vanished.

  Grant took her hand. “Come on, we’re leaving.” But when he turned back around, Justin was in his path.

  “Her last lover was murdered,” Justin told Grant. The scent of whiskey clung to the man. After the court appearance, he must have hit the nearest bar—hard. “Better not sleep too soundly with her in your bed.”

  Grant had pulled away from Scarlett and lifted his fist before he even realized—