Bring Me to Life

“What do you mean?”

“We think they already have someone ready to pick up the reins.”

Evan jerked from the swing and began pacing. His feet crunched on the frozen ground as he stomped back and forth in front of the groaning swings. His mind raced, mentally flipping through pictures of men who could possibly step into the leadership role of a major drug organization.

There was no one.

He’d painstakingly assembled the evidence to bring down the entire damn organizational structure. That’s why he had been away for three shitty years. It had taken him time to work his way up to the point where he’d been privy to useful information. He could have turned over one or two guys a year into the assignment and come home earlier.

And the year—and the men he’d lost—would have been useless because those vacancies would have immediately been filled by the next guy down the ladder. So he’d worked hard to build a web that would ensnare everyone and leave the organization floundering, hopefully enough to wither away and die.

Evan supposed someone from another organization could have stepped up to the plate, but the Carbreras weren’t exactly known to play well with others. They had more enemies than options within the other crime syndicates, plenty of people wanted to see them disappear almost as much as the United States government had.

Evan swore under his breath. “Who?”

“We don’t know. We were hoping you’d tell us.”

Evan tipped his head up to the bright sky drenched with moonlight. The stars were gorgeous, so crisp and clear. Not the way they were back home in Detroit, overshadowed by clusters of lights. Maybe that’s what Tatum liked about this place. It was definitely quieter. Calmer.

Calm was good. He could use calm right now, because Lock’s words had dread cramping hard in his belly.

“I have no idea who it is.”

Would this nightmare never be over?

4

HE HADN’T COME BACK, at least not by the time Tatum left for work the next morning. She wasn’t sure how to feel—pissed, relieved, disappointed. Some combination that had her thoughts scattered and her fingers fumbling as she tried to put together bouquets and fill orders.

Normally she was closed on Sundays, but because of the wedding, she’d let a few things slide. Her display case was looking pitiful and desperately empty. She hadn’t made a bank deposit in three days, and if she didn’t place an order for flowers from the wholesaler soon, she wasn’t going to have any inventory to sell.

She tried not to make a habit of coming in on Sundays, but there was something soothing about it—no interruptions from the phone or front door. No lost delivery drivers to deal with or shipments with broken stems.

Well, it was usually soothing. Today the quiet made the thoughts revving through her brain race louder.

Grasping a heavy vase full of cream roses, stargazer lilies, snapdragons and salal, Tatum pushed through the door separating her work area from the retail space, but stopped dead in her tracks halfway to the large standing cooler.

Outside, Evan leaned against the large plate-glass window at the front of her store. The S of Petals appeared to curve around his body, almost hugging his hips. Rose petals at the bottom of her logo scattered across the window, large to small, until they faded away into nothing. The evergreen garland she’d hung under the eaves trailed above his head.

His back was to her, his body easy and loose, as if he could wait there all day. She didn’t doubt it; the man had the patience of Job. It had often irritated her, how he could wait out her temper whenever she’d gotten angry.

In the past, she’d been quick to flare and quicker to cool down. Staying angry with him had never been her strong suit.

Not that she was going to fall back into bad patterns. Not this time. This wasn’t him forgetting to call her while he was out playing wingman for Lock. Or trading in his car for a Harley without talking to her about it first.

Taking a deep breath, Tatum finished her trip to the cooler and set the arrangement on the shelf.

The sooner they got this over with...

Cold air swirled in when she flipped the lock and opened the door for him. He didn’t say anything, just straightened from his slouched position and sauntered inside.

Irritation bubbled through her veins. Which was good. She needed it, especially after last night. Otherwise, she was liable to flash back to that damn kiss.

He brushed close to her body. Her nipples tightened. She told herself it was the cold, but she knew that was a lie.

After busying herself with locking up behind him, Tatum bustled into the back and trusted he’d follow.

“Nice to know you’re not in a broken heap on the side of the road,” she threw over her shoulder. The door started to swing shut in his face, but he caught it, the smack of his hands against wood reverberating between them.

“Nice to know you care.”

“Who said I do? You roared off so hot and bothered, any decent human being would be worried. Especially when you didn’t come back.”

And that was another lie—of course she cared. At first, she’d been angry. Obviously. Then she’d gotten worried. And started imagining his body a contorted pile on the side of the highway somewhere.

It had done a number on her head. If he’d died the day he popped back into her life...she might have hired some black magician to raise him from the dead so she could strangle him herself.

Needless to say, she hadn’t slept well.

Tatum reached for another handful of blooms, needing to keep her hands busy. She wasn’t going to ask. She didn’t want to know. It was none of her business. And yet, the words tumbled out anyway. “Where did you stay last night?”

“At that park in the middle of town.”

A rose fell from her hands, bruising its velvety petals as it hit the table. “Dammit,” she muttered under her breath, snatching up the flower to inspect it. “What do you mean you stayed at the park? It was freezing last night.”

“I didn’t notice.”

Tatum stared at him. Did he have a death wish? Was that it? Or were the pain receptors in his brain not working? Sure, he’d always run a little hot, her own personal space heater during cold winters, but that was taking things to the extreme.

“Had things on my mind.”

“What things?”

“Nothing for you to worry about.”

A muffled sound of frustration rumbled through her chest. “Whatever.” His secrets had never bothered her before. Probably since he’d always been open about what he could and couldn’t tell her. It wasn’t like he was lying to her...simply unable to give her all the details.

Now, though, those secrets had taken him from her, so maybe she was resentful.

“We need to finish our conversation.”

Tatum dropped her focus to the flowers spread across her table. Something bright and cheerful, that’s what she’d do next. Completely the opposite of the traditional Christmas green and red that always made her stomach feel as though a pit had opened up and was trying to swallow her insides. Something that would take her mind off whatever revelations and nightmares Evan was about to share.

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