Before The Dawn. Cynthia Eden

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СКАЧАТЬ of her when she’d been at the hospital. Her big green eyes were blank, glassy. Bruises and cuts covered her body.

      Sonofabitch. Pain knifed right through his heart. Time should have lessened the pain. It hadn’t. He didn’t think it ever would.

      “One of the things that concerns me most about this case is Dawn Alexander,” Samantha murmured. “Because the only surviving victim of the Iceman? She’s living in New Orleans... The exact place our new perp is using for his hunting grounds.”

      * * *

      “DAWN!” HE TURNED, frantic to find her. He’d been screaming her name, but she hadn’t called back to him. She wasn’t at his car. She wasn’t in that shit-forsaken cabin. She wasn’t on the old dirt road that led out of that place.

      She’d vanished. She’d run from him. Because she was afraid.

      “Dawn, I swear, I am not going to hurt you!” He’d taken a flashlight from his car and he’d shone it onto the ground. That was when he saw the blood drops, leading into the thick, twisting woods behind the cabin. One drop, another, another... Tucker started following them. “Jason isn’t here any longer!” He hadn’t seen his brother’s body come back up because he’d been so frantic to find Dawn and make sure she was all right. She’d been covered in so much blood. He needed to check her out. He needed to make absolutely certain she wasn’t going to die out at that cabin.

      Another soul taken.

      He pushed through the woods. The branches tore at him, but he didn’t care. There was more blood there. Some high up on a tree, forming a bloody hand print as if she’d stopped to brace herself. Other drops were low, on leaves, as if they’d dripped from her body as she fled.

      He kept walking ahead, calling for her, following that blood trail, but she never spoke back to him. Never called out for him to help her.

      He knew why. Because she was afraid. Because Dawn thought that he was just as much of a monster as his brother.

      And the problem was...she was right.

      * * *

      “WE’RE ABOUT TO LAND.”

      He jerked at the soft voice, his gaze shooting to the right. Macey Night gave him a worried frown. “Sorry. Did I wake you up?” Her unusual eyes—one blue and one brown—showed her concern as she stared at him. “I was talking to the captain. He said we’d be touching down soon.” She slid into the seat across from him and hooked the seat belt over her lap. “I thought you’d want to know.”

      He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He’d been staring out of the window, trying to get into the head of the killer they were facing, but memories of Dawn had come back to haunt him.

      “You said her name.”

      His hand tightened around the armrest. “Didn’t realize I talked in my sleep.”

      Macey stared straight at him. “May I ask...what was it like?”

      “To kill my own brother?” His voice was cold. He was cold. He had to have that ice to block off his emotions. Otherwise...

      Iceman.

      “I had a choice to make. I could let a killer destroy an innocent woman or I could stop him. Since I’m not a sadistic bastard, I stopped him.”

      “You were involved with Dawn Alexander before her attack.” She pulled at the sleeve of her top. Long sleeves. Macey always wore long sleeves. “What happened between the two of you?”

      “You’ve seen the photos of Jason Frost.” Jason Frost. He always tried to refer to him formally. He couldn’t say my brother. Because he had to keep it separate. His brother had been the guy who kicked the ass of any bully who’d tried to mess with Tucker. His brother had been the one to teach him how to ride a bike. His brother had been the one to hold his hand when their mom was buried.

      Jason Frost had been a depraved killer. His brother had been his best friend.

      Tucker cleared his throat. “You’ve seen photos,” he said again. “You know we look...similar.” Even more so now. Time had sharpened his features so that he resembled Jason even more.

      “You guys could be twins.”

      Right. Because fate was cruel and twisted. “Would you want a lover who had the same face as the man who tortured you for hours?”

      Her face went white. She pulled on her sleeve again. “No.”

      He swallowed. “Right. So...that’s what happened with me and Dawn. I wanted to stop causing her pain, and the best way to do that was to stay far away from her.”

      “When we get to New Orleans, do you want me to be the one to make contact with her?”

      Because one of them would have to meet with her. Once they’d talked to the local cops and learned the latest details of the case, it would be necessary to have a sit-down with Dawn. Her being in New Orleans while a crime like this occurred? He wanted it to be just a coincidence, but he couldn’t take any chances.

      “Tucker?” Macey prompted. “You want me to handle the interview with Dawn?”

      He looked out the window. He could see the lights from the Big Easy. “I think that would be best.” Because he’d never responded just right when he was around Dawn. She stirred his emotions too much. She made him want...too much.

      No, that was seven years ago. He hadn’t touched her in seven years. “You don’t have a personal involvement with her,” he continued, clearing his throat because his voice was too rough, “so you should handle the interview.”

      “You don’t have to lie to me.” Her voice was a gentle rebuke. “It’s not about personal involvement. It’s because you don’t want her to hurt,” Macey added softly. “When she sees your face.”

      He glanced back at her. There was no need to reply.

      “You might look like him, but that’s just skin deep.”

      Easy enough to say. But having a lover who was blood kin to the man who’d spent hours making you scream? That wasn’t exactly something a woman could get past.

      The captain’s voice floated over the speakers and the plane began its descent.

      * * *

      “BEFORE WE’RE DONE, I’ll teach you to like the pain.” He smiled as he trailed the knife over her face. “You’ll hurt at first. When the blade cuts you. You’ll cry.”

      A tear trickled down her cheek. “Please...let me go...” Her voice was a desperate rasp. “I...I won’t tell anyone...about you...”

      She was a liar. Straight to her core. He let the tip of the blade slice into her cheek. She screamed, a high-pitched, desperate sound. No one was around to hear that cry.

      “You’ll beg,” he continued. He moved the knife down her neck, making small cuts, enjoying the desperate sobs that broke from her. “You’ll promise anything if I stop the pain...”

      He СКАЧАТЬ