“We all miss him,” he breathed.
“Yes.” With an abrupt movement, she rose to her feet and crossed the room to grab her coat. Ash’s unexpected arrival had stirred up a hornet’s nest of memories. Not to mention smashing her fragile sense of peace. She needed time to regroup and repair her shredded nerves. Something that would be impossible when Ash was in the same room. “I should get home.” She forced herself to send Ash a meaningless smile. “It was good to see you.”
He grimaced, smart enough to realize she was done discussing the Chicago Butcher and whether or not she was capable of protecting herself.
“Remi, it wasn’t a fluke that the killer chose a woman who looked just like you,” he said in harsh tones. “Be careful.”
Her mouth went dry as she gave a jerky nod. “I will.”
With a last, lingering glance, Ash slowly walked out of the room. Remi watched him go, her courage leaking out of her like a deflating balloon.
She desperately wanted to call him back. The only time she ever felt safe was when Ash was holding her in his arms. But she kept her lips grimly pressed together.
Her father had died trying to protect her from the Chicago Butcher. She wasn’t going to let Ash be the next man she loved to be sacrificed.
Chapter Three
Darkness pulses inside me. A heavy, malignant tumor that continues to grow. I’ve cut. And cut and cut and cut. I prune the cancer, but it returns. Why?
I know, although I don’t want to see the truth.
The evil is a part of me.
It has lurked in the shadows, waiting for the opportunity to grow and fester, destroying me from the inside out. I should have ended it the moment it sparked in my soul. But I was weak . . .
My attention is captured by the bloody knife lying on the counter. It needs to be cleaned. Or perhaps tossed in a fire so it can be purged of the contamination. But I hesitate. The tiny red droplets that stain the silver blade remind me of the sensation of sliding the knife through the soft flesh.
It’d happened sooner than I wanted. I had intended to savor my creation for months and months, not just a few paltry weeks. It was meant to leach the pus from a festering wound. But it had been more difficult than I’d anticipated to create the perfect antidote for my illness. I had allowed it too much freedom. The cure was tainted and I had no choice but to destroy it. Even worse, I’d been sloppy. Something I’d been so very, very careful to avoid.
Still, the deed was done. And in the end it had been . . . cathartic.
I shiver as the memory sears through my mind. For those brief seconds, I felt in utter harmony with the world. As if a light had combusted inside me to drive away the darkness. Even now I can feel the lingering warmth. I want to cling to the peace for as long as possible.
Reaching out, I run my hand along the edge of the blade. Crimson stains my skin and I open my lips to press my finger against the tip of my tongue. The taste of blood is sharp and oddly heavy.
Another shiver races through me.
The battle against the darkness continues.
* * *
Ash climbed into the passenger seat of his brother’s car and slammed shut the door.
“How is she?” Jax demanded, putting the car in gear and pulling away from the curb.
Gorgeous. Sexy. Heart-wrenchingly vulnerable . . .
The words whispered through his mind, but he didn’t allow them to pass his lips. Later he would deal with his intense reaction to being near the woman who’d once held his heart in her hands.
“Rattled,” he told his brother.
“Yeah.” Jax gripped the steering wheel, zipping through the backstreets to avoid the worst of the Friday traffic. “So am I.”
“Get in line,” Ash said dryly.
They traveled in silence. Jax concentrating on his driving, while Ash tried to banish the panic that was a heartbeat away. Remi was safe. At least for now. And he’d soon be taking steps to ensure that she was properly protected.
First, however, he needed to get started on his hunt for the Butcher. The sooner the bastard was dead, the sooner Remi could have a normal life.
Almost as if capable of reading his mind, Jax sent him a quick glance. “Do you want me to take you to Mom’s house?”
It was always “Mom’s house.” Never their parents’ house. Or Dad’s. No doubt because it was June Marcel’s domain. She was the heart of the family, and wherever she was, that was home.
Not that his dad had been a bad father. But he’d been consumed by his duties as a cop, happy to leave the primary caregiving to his wife.
“No.” Ash motioned for his brother to take the next turn. “I need to get my old files.”
Jax followed his directions. “What files?”
“The ones on the Chicago Butcher.”
“You still have them?”
Ash frowned. Did Jax think he would have thrown them away?
“Of course.”
“Where?”
Ash parted his lips, only to hesitate. His skills as an investigator were no doubt rusty, but he had faith they would quickly return. And without the rules and regulations that came with his job as a detective, he was free to use whatever means necessary to get information.
Still, he needed to know what leads the police were following and if they found any forensic evidence that might offer a clue to the killer.
“Are you going to include me on this case?” he abruptly demanded.
Jax’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “You realize you no longer carry a badge?”
Ash shrugged. “You can keep me in the loop or I’ll find someone else who will,” he said.
Jax’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t bother to claim that Ash couldn’t find the information he wanted. Even after five years, he still had friends on the force. Most of them would be happy to share whatever was necessary to help him catch the bastard who’d killed one of their own.
Jax released a low hiss. “You compromise this case and—”
“I have no intention of doing anything that will compromise the case,” Ash interrupted.
“But you’re going to investigate it,” Jax said, his words a statement, not a question.
“Don’t bother to try to stop me,” Ash warned.
Jax sent him a frustrated glare. “Then you have to give me the same promise you demanded of me. You’ll tell me what you discover.” His eyes narrowed. “Everything you discover.”
“Agreed,” Ash said without hesitation.
“Shit,” Jax muttered. “This is a bad idea.”
Ash ignored his brother’s grumbling. It wasn’t the first time and it most certainly wasn’t going to be the last that Jax was annoyed with him.
“We need to go to the storage unit that’s down the street from my old apartment.”
“That’s where you have the files?”
“Yep.”
Jax turned onto a main road that would lead to the neighborhood where he’d lived during his time as a detective. It wasn’t fancy, but it had been close to the precinct and it had been cheap enough that he didn’t have to live on ramen noodles.
It was nearly dark by the time they were pulling into a fenced parking lot, and Ash hurried into the office. He hadn’t brought his key, which meant he needed the manager. Ten minutes later, they were pushing up the roller door and stepping into the long, narrow space.