Rebecca Zanetti - Forgotten Sins

The detective nodded, his gaze taking in them both. “Are you sure you want him with you?”

No. Though it was time to finish this. “Sure. We need to talk, and I have papers for Shane to sign. Thank you for your concern.” Not for one second did she think Shane would stay away at this point.

“Are you sure you’re safe? He may be dangerous.” The detective appraised them both without expression. Cop face… soldier face. She’d seen it on her husband.

“Shane’s dangerous as hell.” He’d saved her from an obnoxious jackass the first day they’d met, his combat training obvious. She allowed herself a wry grin. “But he would never hurt me.” Physically anyway.

Malloy cleared his throat. “Major Dean, what about your safety?”

Shane blinked twice and then chuckled. “Ah. You mean from the deadly pixie doll standing next to me?”

“Perhaps.” Malloy’s gaze probed Josie’s eyes as he addressed Shane. “You’re estranged and she has moved on. Statistically, it’s possible the pixie hired someone to take care of you.” He smiled. “No offense, ma’am.”

She coughed out a laugh. “None taken, Detective. Though I assure you, if I wanted Shane dead, I’d do it myself.” He’d tried to teach her some dangerous skills during their brief marriage, but she’d never had cause to use them.

The detective’s eyes narrowed.

Shane chuckled even deeper. “Let’s go, angel.”

She allowed him to tug her from the room. They passed the uniformed cop and the many rooms, Shane’s large form dwarfing her in a way she’d forgotten, in a way that made her feel safe—protected—and yet so vulnerable. The detective’s concern filtered through her thoughts. Shane was dangerous before. What if he was even more so now? Where had he been the last two years? She didn’t know him anymore. Heck, she’d never known him.

Maybe she wasn’t so safe.

However, as the exit doors came into view, her stride sped up in an effort to escape the hospital. For her first visit, when she was seven, she’d been brought in by a foster parent who had hurt her. The second time, when she’d turned nine, she’d been carried in by a foster parent trying to save her. Different experiences, yet the result had been the same. She’d ultimately ended up alone.

Here she was again, leaving the hospital with someone who would soon leave. He’d abandoned her once. No matter how quickly her heart had leaped when she’d seen him again, or how lost he seemed right now, he wouldn’t stay.

Shane wasn’t a guy who stuck around.

He paused near the sliding glass exit doors, turning her to face him, tipping her chin up with one knuckle. The breadth of his shoulders, the narrowness of his waist, the strength bunched along his muscles promised power and danger. Warmth and the masculine scent of heated cedar wafted her way. “So, wife. Have you slept with this boyfriend of yours?”

His wife’s small bicep tightened in his grasp, and those incredible eyes darkened to violet, betraying her intent to step back. Shane grasped her chin to hold her in place, searching for an answer he wasn’t sure he deserved.

She gave him a glare, and a light blush stole cross her fine cheekbones but didn’t reach the pert nose he had the oddest urge to kiss. “My sex life is none of your business.”

His eyelids lowered. “Ah, darlin’,” he breathed out, “we both know that’s not true.” He raised his hand from her chin to slide his thumb over her full bottom lip and pricked with pleasure as she drew a sharp breath. His brain may not remember her, but his body thrummed with the need to draw the blood of any man who’d dared touch her.

As they paused at the glass doors of the hospital in the day’s dusk, Shane cataloged the quiet streetscape. Thirty-five vehicles sat in the lot, and three businesses lined the other street: one selling food, one a pawn shop with possible weapons, and one a mom-and-pop convenience store. There was a good probability the store had a shotgun near the register. A row of apartments stood above the businesses, probably three. Statistically, at least one residence might have a weapon.

How did he know that? Sudden claustrophobia had him struggling to appear normal, even while he tilted his head to hear… something. Anything. But all sounds arrived muffled, as if his head were under water.

So he concentrated on the soft skin beneath his rough hand. Josie had a classic face, well-defined cheekbones, and delicate features. Yet her chin held a stubbornness that intrigued as much as it challenged him.

Josie’s teeth ground together. “I don’t know how badly you’re hurt, but if you don’t release me, I’m going to kick your ass.”

His quick smile felt rusty, as if the muscles hadn’t been used in far too long. Two years maybe—since she left him?

With a shrug, he let go, straightened, and stepped back. Every slight movement dug sharp needles into his skull. Lights flashed behind his eyes from the pain. “I need to know. Are you scared of me?” He didn’t know himself. Would he hurt her? The idea that he’d harm such a tiny, defenseless woman was like a punch to the gut. Who the hell was he?

She arched one delicate eyebrow. “If you’re asking if you abuse women, the answer is no. If you’re asking if you’re an asshole, the answer is yes.”

He huffed a laugh, barely holding back a wince as his eyes sparked agony. “I appreciate your honesty.”

“Anytime.” She tossed a thick blond strand over her shoulder and shoved open the exit door to the cool night air. “You might as well come on.”

He paused at her statement, taking a moment to appreciate her tight body in the soft gray pantsuit. The woman had an ass he’d love to sink his hands into. The flash of lust rolled through him followed by unease. He’d just scared her, pretty much threatened her about the boyfriend, and now he wanted her naked. After a brief marriage, he’d abandoned her. What if he hadn’t had a good reason? Was there a good reason to leave his woman unprotected? Probably not.

Following her out, he quickly caught up to her, his gaze raking the sprawling parking lot. Quiet, peaceful, and nicely lit in the cold evening. Pine and the hint of snow wafted on the breeze. “You’re taking me home, angel?” He figured he’d have to cajole to end up at her place. He needed to crawl into a hole until his head stopped pounding, and then he’d figure out who’d jumped him.

Darkness and peace seemed more important than safety right now.

She sighed, yanking keys out of a monstrous purse and striding in pointy shoes toward the center of the lot. “Like it or not, you’re my responsibility right now. At least until you sign the papers.” She halted and flipped around so abruptly he had to catch her arms to keep from running her over. Her gaze met his. “Unless you’re full of shit. Amnesia? Seriously?”

She felt good under his palms. Ignoring the migraine, he stepped into her, truly enjoying the flare of awareness and then irritation filtering across her stunning face. “Have I ever lied to you?” The question held risk, considering he had no clue if he had lied or not.

Anger slammed the irritation out of the way, narrowing her eyes. “No. You just didn’t tell me anything.”

Oh, but he’d hurt her. The set of her shoulders, the line of her lips, told him he’d caused her pain. What kind of an ass was he to hurt such a soft little thing? “I’m sorry.”

She blinked three times and took a step back. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does. Whatever mistakes I’ve made, I’m sorry.” She was so tiny, her head didn’t come close to the bottom of his chin. Maybe he should take off by himself right away—leave her the life she’d built over the last two years.