You have to tell Joel that he killed the wrong man. Impossible. Joel had escaped. The bastard’s shovel had still been at the ready. His gloves had been dirty. He’d swung the shovel at Joel—
Reese clapped a hand around Joel’s shoulder. Joel flinched.
“I’m sorry,” Reese told him. “But it’s going to be okay.”
Joel could only shake his head. This was wrong. Nothing felt okay. “Chloe?”
Reese let him go and walked away.
She pressed her lips together.
“Reese…is wrong.” His words were wooden. Hollow. He felt hollow.
“I’m afraid he isn’t.”
He took a step and could have sworn that he almost fell. The floor seemed to tilt under him. His hands flew out to steady himself.
Chloe jumped toward him. She grabbed his right hand.
The floor stopped tilting.
He stared into Chloe’s eyes. Her beautiful, unforgettable, blue eyes.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you, Joel.”
Chloe loved him.
“When we first met, I didn’t realize how things would go with us. You’ve always been hard for me to predict.”
He couldn’t look away from her. His heartbeat was too loud. It felt as if it were shaking his chest.
“The more I got to know you…things changed. What I thought about you changed.”
What she’d thought? What had she thought?
“And I knew what the truth would do to you.”
“The truth.” He barely recognized his own voice. “What is the truth?”
“The truth is…you weren’t the first he played his game with, and you were not the last.”
“What?” Joel shook his head.
“Did you ever…” She bit her lip. Stopped.
“Don’t fucking stop now.”
He saw her throat move as she swallowed. “Did you ever do any research on the man who was there with the shovel?”
“The man I killed.”
She inclined her head in the faintest of nods. “Did you ever look at his life? His childhood? His education? His criminal record—”
“He was an ex-con. The cops told me he had a rap sheet dating back to when he’d been a teen.” His heartbeat felt off. Fast and jerky.
“He did have a long history with the police. Started with shoplifting. Petty theft. Moved up to B&Es. Mostly all non-violent crimes.”
She’d researched the bastard?
“There was nothing there that would tie him to an attack of the nature that happened to you.”
“He was fucking near my grave. He had the shovel. He—”
“He had a reputation for hiring out his services. He’d even rolled on a body disposal case before, in order to get out of a B&E charge. Made a deal with the DA. Honestly, all of that should have come to light after your attack, but I think the authorities wanted to just make everything go away. They wanted the city to feel safe. Perhaps it was better for everyone not to dig too deeply when the bad guy was right there.”
He wasn’t hearing her correctly. “No.”
“He buried you. I don’t deny that. There is no denying it. But I read your statements, Joel. You never saw the face of the man who tortured you. You can’t say that it was Sam Morrow. He buried you. You dug yourself out. When Sam realized you were coming for him, he grabbed the shovel. He attacked you, so you had to defend yourself.” She squeezed his hand. “You understand what I’m saying? You defended yourself.”
He could see the shovel swinging toward him. “You’re wrong.”
“I found video footage of Sam Morrow. Footage taken at the time you were taken. When you were being held. Cut. While that was happening, Sam was at a strip club. He was caught on the club’s security camera.” Her gaze held his. “I can show you the footage if you’d like.”
She had proof? The man who…
“He’s still out there, Joel. The man who tortured you? He’s alive. And you may not believe this next part but…I don’t think he ever intended to kill you.”
What the fuck? Joel yanked his hand away from her and stumbled back. The numbness was fading. Anger—rage—built. “Did you miss the scars on my body? He fucking meant to kill me.”
“If that had been his intent, then how did he miss every vital organ that you have? One hundred and four slices. Some deep. Some shallow. And never once—not once—did he hit anything that would have made you bleed out.”
“I was buried.”
“A shallow grave. Shallow enough for you to crawl out.” Her words came fast. “That wouldn’t be normal for Sam. I told you, he was a grave digger—”
Joel flinched.
“He would have known to bury you deep. I believe he was told to put you in a shallow grave. Told to wait there, probably promised payment or something, but the truth was that the man who hurt you—he wanted you to find Sam waiting with the shovel. He wanted you to think that Sam had hurt you and then he wanted…” Her words trailed away.
“Don’t stop now.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered.
A little late. “You’ve been fucking me and lying to me.”
Her lips parted.
“You knew this from day one and you didn’t tell me. I thought you were the one person in the world I could count on.” He could only shake his head. “What was I? God, I know your obsession with killers. Was I just some kind of test for you? Some experiment? Some—”
“Not to me.”
Those words chilled him. “Chloe…”
“I am sorry,” she said again.
Were those tears in her eyes? Chloe didn’t cry.
“You were a surgeon. You saved lives.” She bit her lower lip.
His chest burned as a tear slid down her cheek.
“Don’t you see what he wanted you to do?” Chloe’s voice was so husky and low.
Take a life.
Another tear trailed over her cheek. “He wanted to take something strong and break it apart.”
Not break it apart. Slice it apart. Joel thought of all the stitches he’d gotten after the attack.
Slice me apart…and then have me stitched back together. Except, hadn’t he been put back together wrong? Hadn’t he felt wrong since the attack? Darker? Dangerous? Shit, even his shrink had warned him, that Gordo jerk had told Joel that he was unstable. That he could be a threat to those around him…
Because I was an experiment?
No. No, that wasn’t—
“He didn’t break you, though, Joel.”
He stared at his hands. He’d pounded his fists into Sam Morrow, over and over again. Until the only sound he’d known had been the thud of flesh hitting flesh.
“He didn’t win. You aren’t—”
His head whipped. “I can’t be near you.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Joel, I-I know you’re angry.” She stepped toward him.
He immediately stepped back. “You don’t know what I am.”
“I do. I know you.”
What she knew was killers. And he—Every part of him hurt. “Stay away from me.”
“Joel—”