B.J. Daniels - Mercy

Anxiety filled him, making him fear he was losing his mind. This wasn’t happening. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. His chest rose and fell, faster and faster.

A sound made him stop struggling. He held his heaving breath. Had he only imagined someone in the room?

A floorboard creaked. She’d come back. Of course she had. She couldn’t leave him like this. This was some kind of sick joke. Something straight out of a horror movie.

It had been his first night of vacation, so he’d thought, why not have a little fun? Maybe he should have been nicer once the fun was over. Too late to worry about that now, though. Once she cut his restraints, she would regret ever pulling this stunt on him.

He tried to remember her name. Something that started with a C. Candy. Cara. Catherine. Cassie. He tried to say Cassie around the gag. It came out unintelligible.

A thought suddenly struck him. It was her in the room, wasn’t it? Who else? But now he wasn’t so sure.

He felt someone move closer. He could hear breathing next to his bed. He thrashed against his bonds, moaning in both pain and terror.

A harsh whisper next to his ear silenced him. It was her all right. He remembered that voice. But at first he thought he’d heard her wrong. Then she repeated the same three words.

“Beg for mercy.”

The gag muffled his screams as he felt the first slice of the knife.

CHAPTER TWO

IT HAD SURPRISED Laura Fuller when he’d called. Something odd in his voice. That and the fact that she hadn’t heard from him in months. It made her anxious. As she stepped into the small restaurant off Pioneer Square in downtown Seattle, she stopped to scan the place. Maybe it was the cop in her, but she couldn’t help feeling on guard as she spotted him.

He looked good. That thought made her smile to herself. Rourke Kincaid always looked good, all six foot four of him. He had classic dark looks that were almost as amazing as the rich depths of his eyes. If he wasn’t usually so serious, he would have been sinfully gorgeous. Women always noticed him. He, on the other hand... Did he notice other women? Or was Laura’s former partner just unaware of her as a woman?

As she let the door close behind her and moved in his direction, she thought he looked a little pale. The lines around those dark eyes a little more defined. She thought of the first time she’d seen him as she limped toward his table. She had detested the idea of working with someone who looked like him because she’d thought he wouldn’t take the job seriously. She’d thought he was a womanizer, one of those men who had to have the attention of every woman around him. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Rourke, like her, had been interested in only his job. At least that was how it had been back then.

As Laura drew closer, she saw that all his attention was on the papers he had spread on the table. But when he saw her, he hurriedly tucked them back into the folder and set it on the chair next to him.

He’d brought some case he was working on. Of course that was why he’d called her. It was the only reason he had ever called her, except for the few times to see how she was doing after she’d gotten out of the hospital.

He rose now, hastily getting to his feet. His expression brightened, and he flashed her one of his disarming smiles. Even after bracing herself against it, her heart kicked into gear, all those old feelings rushing at her.

“Laura.” He took both her hands in his large, warm ones and brushed a kiss across her cheek. She noticed then that he wasn’t wearing his U.S. Marshals uniform. Maybe it was his day off. But then, Rourke never really took a day off, especially when he was deep in a case.

To a bystander, he probably looked relaxed in a pair of worn jeans, equally worn boots and a blue chambray button-up shirt, and yet she could tell he was anxious. His Stetson was on the seat with the folder he’d brought. You could take the cowboy out of Wyoming, but you couldn’t take the cowboy out of him, she thought.

“How are you?” he asked, genuine concern in his voice. She knew then that he’d seen her limp, even though she’d tried so hard to hide how bad it was. Rourke missed little. It was what had made him such a good homicide detective and now criminal investigator.

“I’m fine,” she said automatically. “How about you?”

“Me?” He seemed surprised by the question as he stepped around the table to pull out her chair. It was such a gentlemanly thing to do that she couldn’t help but smile. A year ago he wouldn’t have touched her chair. She wouldn’t have let him because they’d been equals back then. But a lot had changed in a year, hadn’t it?

She sat and watched him move back around to his own chair. “What’s wrong?” she asked as she got a closer look at him.

He blinked. “Can’t I ask my former Seattle P.D. partner to lunch without you thinking—”

“Rourke,” she said with a shake of her head as he lowered himself into his chair.

He laughed, his dark gaze meeting hers as he stretched out his long legs. “I forget how well you know me.” His look alone made her pulse purr just under her skin. How long had she been in love with this man? Too long.

“Tell me what I’m doing here besides having lunch?” she said, needing to clarify for herself what this meeting would cover. She knew what she’d hoped it was about, but clearly she’d been kidding herself.

“I’m sure you heard about what happened six months ago,” he said, dropping his voice.

Law enforcement was a tight-knit community. Even if she was no longer one of the gang, she still heard things. Rourke had risen so quickly in his field that she knew there were some who’d enjoyed his fall from grace.

Six months ago he hadn’t waited for backup even though he’d been ordered to do so. The bust had gone badly, a civilian was shot and almost died, and Rourke was reprimanded and pulled off active duty.

She picked up her napkin, unfolded it carefully and laid it across her lap before she spoke. “You have always followed your intuition. It’s what made you such a good homicide detective. Now as a U.S. marshal, well, I would expect you to continue doing what you do best. I would still trust you with my life.” When she looked up, she saw the shine of his eyes and felt a lump form in her throat. Was it possible he missed her as much as she’d missed him?

“You were the best partner I ever had,” he said, emotion making his deep voice even deeper. “Sometimes I miss the Seattle P.D.” His gaze narrowed as he studied her. “If I could go back to that night—”

“I’ve put that part of my life behind me.” Laura couldn’t find words to describe how much she missed it. But not for the reason Rourke Kincaid thought. Even if they could change what had happened that night a year ago, she doubted he would still be with the Seattle P.D. Even back then, she’d known he wouldn’t stay in Homicide long. He was destined to greater things.

“Want a drink before we eat?” He didn’t wait for an answer before signaling the waitress. “The usual?” he said to Laura with a grin. “Scotch on the rocks for my friend. Nothing for me.”

“You’re not joining me?” she asked as the waitress left. “I just assumed you were off duty.”

“Off duty.” He chuckled at that. “Today is my first day of my latest suspension. My boss suggested I take two weeks to reevaluate my career choices.”

She reached across the table and touched his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“He’s probably right. I’m not sure I’m cut out for taking orders. Nor am I so sure I can still trust my instincts.” He took a sip of his water and waited as the waitress returned to place the drink in front of her. “We should probably order. Two cheeseburgers and fries?” he asked, smiling at her again.