“Tell me.” Shane steeled himself for the blow.
“Take a shower, wipe off the blood, and then Matt and I will tell you everything.” Nathan slid the flask into his boot. “You should spend time with your wife before you have to leave her again.”
Heat roared through him. “I’m not. Not leaving her again.”
“Yes, you are.” Nate shook his head. “Our war is just starting, and she’ll get killed. Then you won’t be able to function at all.”
Shane coughed. “So it was never meant to be permanent?”
Nate sighed, glanced down at his boots. “I think it was—I think you wanted to take a chance on forever.”
“I still do,” Shane said softly. But at what cost? Bad people were after him, and they’d probably go right through her to get to him. What about his brothers? “It’s always been just the four of us, hasn’t it?”
“Except for a short time, yeah.” Nathan pushed away from the Jeep. “We fight for each other, we kill for each other, and we’d die for each other. Sometimes, that’s all you get.”
Shane lifted his head as his memories finally cleared. “If I lose her, I weaken and put you all in danger.” They were each other’s weak spots. Always had been.
“Yes.”
“Is that why I let her go?” The thought of letting her go again made him want to punch the Jeep. Hard.
“No. You left to find out what happened to Jory.” Nathan pivoted to stride toward the cabin. “We need to unlock your memories to find what you discovered.”
“Nathan, I don’t think I can let her go.”
“You don’t have a choice,” his older brother said, not turning around.
Shane shut his eyes for a moment. His gut hurt worse than when he’d tortured George. Steeling his shoulders, he opened his eyes and followed his brother into the cabin.
*
The rain beat against the window of Josie’s bedroom, and she snuggled down under the heavy comforter. She and Matt had quickly eaten sandwiches for dinner before spending several hours putting together an impressive array of computer and surveillance equipment. After Matt had carefully bandaged her wounded fingers, of course.
The sprawling cabin was luxurious rather than rustic and sported five bedrooms with attached baths as well as a large playroom. The pool table had beckoned her, but she decided to go to bed. Her jaw ached.
She heard a door somewhere in the house open and close. Male voices echoed. Shane and Nathan had arrived. They spoke for several moments with Matt before heavy footsteps sounded down the hall. Closer and closer. The door opened.
She sat up in bed. “Hi.”
Shane shut the door, kicking off his boots. “Hi.” He stalked into the bathroom. The shower surged on.
Unease wound through her. Why did he need a shower? She scrambled out of bed, hurrying to the bathroom. Sliding inside, she studied his clothes lying on the tightly woven bath mat. His black shirt appeared all right, but dark stains marred his faded jeans. Blood.
She pushed the door open farther, striding inside. Thick stone lined the large shower behind a glass door. Shane stood, his back to her, one hand against the tiles, his head lowered as the water beat against his neck. Steam rose. “Either get in with me, or get out.”
No warmth, no kindness existed in his matter-of-fact tone. A quiver ran through her legs. She ignored her fear, stepping over his clothing. “Did you kill George?”
“No.”
“Good. Did you call the police?”
“No.” Shane didn’t move.
They needed to call the cops. Someone had killed Billy, probably George. “I’ll call them, then.” She pivoted to go.
The glass door shot open, and two strong hands grabbed her biceps, pulling her against a wet chest. Shane dropped his head closer to her ear. “No cops.”
She struggled, swinging around to face him. His rugged face appeared cut from granite, his eyes a hard, cold gray. “What did you do?” Her voice came out a croak. She tried to take a step back, but he kept her in place.
“What I had to do.” No emotion, no expression rode his tone. No concern whatsoever for his nudity.
“Did you kill him?” She had to know. Was Shane a cold-blooded killer?
He sighed. “No. I didn’t kill him.” The pads of his fingers caressed her arms as he wandered down to her hands. “We let him go.”
She frowned. “Bullshit.” The stained clothes at her feet whispered another story. “There’s blood on your clothes.”
Shane’s smile lacked warmth. “I didn’t say he wasn’t bleeding. He bled.” Shane reached out and ran a gentle knuckle along her bruised jaw. “For this alone, he deserved to bleed.”
A shiver shook her entire body. “I don’t understand.” Even through fear, desire awakened.