A knock rapped at her door.

“Come in!” If her visitor was a nurse then she could grill her for information about Max.

Special Agent Kenton Lake popped his dark head in the room. “Kenton?” she whispered. “What are you doing here?” Shouldn’t he be off doing a news interview? Wrapping up this mess and making the SSD look good?

He flashed her a wide smile. It was the same smile that had—once upon a time—made her heart flutter.

“Couldn’t leave without seeing you.” Kenton ambled inside and pushed the door closed behind him. “Damn, woman, when I heard about the scene with Malone…” Running a quick hand through his hair, he approached the bed.

When the Watchman had taken her and played his twisted game, Kenton had been there. When she’d opened her eyes, choking on water and struggling for breath, he’d been the first person she’d seen.

He’d also seen her, later, in the hospital. He’d seen her when she broke down, sobbing until the doctors had to drug her. He hadn’t told anyone about that. Kenton was a man who knew how to keep secrets.

But he hadn’t been the man to keep her heart. They’d dated, just casually, but he’d never made her need, never made her feel, like Max did.

His gaze raked her. “You look like hell.”

Ah, Kenton, always the sweet talker. Actually, he usually was a sweet talker. “I feel like it.” She tried to push up in the bed. Her wrist immediately protested, and a gasp broke from her lips. “They won’t tell me anything.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Max,” she sighed his name. “I need to know how he is.”

Kenton’s gaze was too watchful. “Malone’s brother?”

She nodded.

“You care about him, don’t you?”

Stop being afraid. “I’m in love with him.” And she’d tell him as soon as he could hear her.

Kenton sucked in a deep breath. “They brought Quinlan down to the office. I, uh, think there’s something you should know.”

A nurse bustled in without knocking. “Ms. Kennedy? Max Ridgeway’s out of surgery. Dr. Gretchen said I could take you to see him—just for a few minutes—if you felt up to it.” She pulled a wheelchair into the room behind her.

Up to it? Nothing would keep her out of his room. Sam’s left hand shoved back the covers, and she ignored the pain as she tried to get up.

Kenton leaned over her. “Wait.”

No, there was no waiting. “I need to see him.”

But he didn’t move. “It’s hard when you care, isn’t it? When someone else’s life matters more than your own.”

No, it wasn’t hard. It was freaking terrifying.

“But you have to be careful, Sam. Just because you love someone, it doesn’t mean they’re perfect.”

What was he talking about? She knew Max wasn’t perfect. She loved him because he wasn’t. He was real, solid, strong, and ready to take on hell for her. A woman couldn’t ask for more. Perfection could wait.

“Quinlan says…” Kenton leaned in even closer to her and dropped his voice so that the nurse couldn’t overhear his words. “Quinlan is saying that Ridgeway was in on the kidnappings from the very beginning. He says they planned everything together and that Max only changed the plan because he fell for you.”

She shook her head. “No, no, Max wouldn’t do that—”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She wasn’t going to listen to any more. I need Max.

Kenton inclined his head in a grim nod. “You trust him that much?”

“I do.” She’d seen the sick horror on Max’s face. The fury when he realized just what his brother had done. No, Max hadn’t been in on the crimes, no matter what crap his brother was spewing. Max wasn’t like Quinlan.

Not evil.

She climbed carefully from the bed, but shook her head at the nurse. “I don’t need that chair. Just tell me where he is.” I’m coming, Max.

The nurse blinked. “Room… ah… 212, just down the hallway.”

Sam kept her head up and her spine straight as she walked.

“Sam!”

She glanced back at Kenton’s cry.

“You did good on this one. Damn good.”

“Thanks.”

“I always knew you had a core of steel. You walked through hell, and it just made you stronger.” His lips lifted the faintest bit. “You didn’t break.”

She knew he’d been through his own nightmare. The man had walked through fire on his last case with the SSD. She forced a smile to her lips. “Neither did you.”

“And we’re stronger for it. Remember that. You’re not weak, Sam, and you never have been.” Because he knew her well. “You beat that bastard before, and you beat this one, too.”

Yes, she had. But she’d had help. A man who’d willingly stepped between her and a killer.

How was a woman supposed to walk away from a guy like that?

She wasn’t. She was supposed to stay with him, screw what came, and fight like crazy for a future.

The machines surrounding Max beeped and whirred. His face was pale, and his lips were still tinged a bit blue. Bandages covered most of his upper body and mid-section.

“It took a long time to close those wounds,” the young doctor beside her murmured. “Someone sure did a number on him.”

Sam’s hand reached for Max’s. “How long until he’s awake?”

“He’ll drift in and out for a while, but he needs to sleep. After all that blood loss, he needs to rest.” The doctor slanted her an assessing glance. “So do you.”

She saw the redness in his eyes. Another long night for the doc. “There’s a chair right here. I’ll be fine.”

His lips tightened but he gave a curt nod. “Anyone we need to notify? Family?”

Someone sure did a number on him. “His family knows.”

He closed his clipboard. “All right then, when your boyfriend opens his eyes, let him know that he’s lucky. Very lucky. The shot in his thigh nicked an artery but the cold water slowed down the bleeding. If the vessels hadn’t constricted…” He trailed off and shook his head. “Going into the water saved his life.”

“No.” Her fingers tightened around Max’s. “When he went into the water, he saved my life.”

The door clicked shut behind the doctor. Sam used her foot to pull the chair closer to the bed, and then she sat, holding tight to Max’s hand. The night stretched before her, long and dark.

The darkness didn’t scare her. Never had. And even the cold embrace of the water hadn’t stirred the terror. But the moment when she’d thought Max was lost to her, when Quinlan had closed in with that knife…

Fear choked me.

“Wake up,” she whispered to him, leaning closer to the bed. “I need to tell—”

His lashes fluttered, and Sam stilled. “Max?”

The beeping grew faster. A groan escaped his lips.

Max. She squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, you’re safe. Do you hear me, Max? You’re safe. You’re in a hospital, everything’s fine and—”

His lips moved. A soundless whisper.

“I couldn’t—Max, I couldn’t hear you.”

His lashes cracked open. His eyes met hers. “Kill… him…”

Those words—they were the same words that he’d yelled to her when Quinlan had lunged at her with the knife. Her life versus Quinlan’s. Max had chosen.

But she hadn’t made the kill. “I didn’t have to,” she said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his face. “The SSD came. They took him into custody.”

His gaze looked so weak. She wasn’t even sure if he could focus on her.

“He won’t hurt anyone else,” she promised him. “He’ll be…”

“Cage…”

And she remembered the words she’d said to him so long ago. They belong in cages, far away from innocent people. She swallowed to ease the lump in her throat. “He’s going to prison. The SSD will make sure he doesn’t get out any time soon.”

Max’s eyes fluttered closed. “Over.”

“For him.” It hurt to see the pain on his face. The only remaining member of his family had been a psychotic bastard who’d tried to kill him. “Not for you though, Max. You’re going to be okay, do you hear me? The doctors patched you up, and you’re going to be fine. For you, everything’s just beginning.”

Max woke up in a cold sweat, his body shuddering and Samantha’s name on his lips.

“Shh… it’s okay.” Her whisper came to him in the darkness, and it took him a moment to understand….

Not in the hospital. After nearly seven days, he’d finally been released. He hadn’t gone back to Frank’s place—he couldn’t stand the thought of that—and Samantha hadn’t wanted him to be alone.

Her place. Her scent surrounded him, her soft bed cushioned him, and the feather-light weight of her hand pressed against his chest. “It’s just a dream,” she told him. “You’re safe. It’s over.”

He’d been back at that river. Quinlan had been there, firing his gun, and Max hadn’t been able to get to Samantha. Her body had floated to the surface. And he’d lost her.

He rolled, wrapping his arms around her and holding tight.

“Max, no, your stitches!”

Screw them. The pain just made him realize that he was alive. She was alive. And he’d be damned if he lost his chance with her.

His lips found hers in the darkness, and he kissed her with a desperate desire that fired his blood. A need only she could satisfy. She’d slipped past his guard, gotten under his skin, and he knew he’d never be the same without her.

But her hands were pushing against him, not holding him close, and the ache ripped through him.

“You’ll hurt yourself,” her husky whisper filled his ears.

“Not having you will hurt a lot more.” Didn’t she understand? Lust tightened his body. His c*ck was already hard and swollen, but the need for her was so much more. A hollow ache inside his chest.

Need her. Flesh to flesh. Want her. All that she is. Everything.

Her hands pushed him, and Max found himself flat on his back.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, the words drifting in the dark, and a rough laugh built in his chest.

“You won’t.” Unless she left.

The sheets rustled, the cool air hit his legs, and then warm flesh was above him as she straddled his hips. Samantha was careful not to jostle his healing leg or to touch the wounds on his stomach.

She stared down at him, and in the faint moonlight, he could see the darkness of her eyes.

No panties. Her legs were spread, and his c*ck pushed against the hot core of her body. His hand slipped between them, found the center of her need, and his fingers stroked her. Max wanted her to be as ready, as desperate, as he was.

She arched against him, and a soft moan slipped past her lips. Not good enough.

His thumb pressed harder. Her h*ps pushed back against him. Max found the tight opening of her body and thrust two fingers inside. Proof of her arousal coated his fingers.

His fingers worked her body. Max touched her the way he knew she liked. Building the arousal. Pushing her to the edge. Her sex clamped around his fingers. The delicate muscles squeezed in a strong grip, and he wanted her around his cock. Wanted to be driving deep into her. So deep that she’d never be free of him. So deep that she’d know, always, that she was…

Mine.

“Max!” Need choked in the word, and then her fingers were on his cock, soft and delicate, touching and stroking, and he had to clench his back teeth.

She guided his cock, positioning it right at the entrance to her body. So wet and warm. Nothing between them, nothing—

Condom. “Samantha—”

“I’m safe,” she managed, tossing back her hair.

So was he. And if she wanted skin to skin…

She eased down and took him inside her body.

And it was heaven. Hell. So good he lost his breath. So tight that he nearly came at the first hot glide of her body. He forgot the pain and only knew her.

Max worked the rhythm with her, lifting his h*ps up to meet her, holding tight, and keeping his eyes on her.

Samantha. The woman he’d nearly died for. The woman he would have killed for.

Her moans filled the air. His fingers dug too deeply into her hips, but he couldn’t stop. Need her too much.

Her nails bit into his shoulders. Her sex rippled around him, and then she was coming, whispering his name and arching above him.

Beautiful.

Her cl**ax shivered around his cock, and he exploded into her as a wave of hot pleasure pulsed through his body. Max wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

Because he wasn’t letting her go. No matter what nightmares might come—for him, for her—he wasn’t letting her go.

When the passion eased, she slid down to his side. Her hand lay over his chest, right over his heart. And he didn’t speak because he knew what tomorrow would bring: the face-off with his stepbrother. The last round of questions. The future.

After a while her breathing eased, and he knew she slept beside him. But he didn’t sleep because he didn’t want to see her die again in his nightmares. So he held her in the darkness and wondered how a woman who fought killers could love one.

The next morning, Max walked with Samantha down the long, winding hallway. The clank of metal bars sounded behind them. He knew that sound well. For years, it had haunted his dreams. The sound of freedom being ripped away.