No Escape From War (Trouble for Hire #1) - Cynthia Eden Page 0,14

find out that someone sent my girlfriend roses, I pick up the card. Reflex action.”

Those goosebumps got one hell of a lot worse. So bad that a whole shiver skated over her body because Rose remembered exactly what that card had said.

“Thanks for an unforgettable night,” War growled. “After reading that crap, I figured there was no point in talking. You had already moved the hell on to one of those guys who would love to be with you.” His nostrils flared. “Funny thing, though. I don’t see any of those dicks here now. I just see me. I’m the one who said he’d help you. I’m the one who—”

She felt a tear slip down her cheek.

War frowned at her. “Don’t do that.”

Rose swiped away the tear. “If I could make it stop, I would.” She hated crying. But what he’d just said…

Everything is worse. This went much deeper than she’d thought. The killer had deliberately isolated her. Targeted her.

“That’s another one,” War noted, voice thickening. “Don’t cry, dammit.”

“If you don’t like it, don’t watch!” Another swipe over her cheek. “It’s been one hell of a night, okay? It’s probably adrenaline or after-effects or something. I’m not some super soldier. I’m not used to all of this like you are!”

“I was a SEAL, not a—”

“I didn’t cheat on you.” The words fell heavily into the room, and they were met by utter silence.

War’s eyes glittered.

“I thought you knew me. That you would understand I could never do something like that to you.” When she’d been with War, she had been hooked completely on him. Until they’d imploded. “Dylan kissed me when we were working late one night. I did not kiss him. As I said before, I immediately pushed him back. I was with you. I had no interest in him.” Or anyone else. “I didn’t know you had gotten a photo.” She hadn’t wanted to rehash all of this, but now it seemed necessary. “Do you know who sent the pic to you?”

His jaw was locked. He’d been jealous, possessive, when they were together. But they weren’t together any longer. She was surprised he could still get riled up at this point. “War?” she prompted.

“No clue. I sent a text back but never got an answer. Figured it was just someone at the station who wanted me to know the score.”

Someone had wanted him to know, all right.

“The night I came here…” Her gaze darted around. “The night you and I had that fight—had you just gotten the pic?”

“I got it a few hours before you arrived. It was a damn late night. You didn’t get here until almost two a.m.”

And that had made him think she was with Dylan during that time because she’d been so late for their date. Her eyes squeezed shut. “That’s when it started. When I found the body and I tried to help. When I chased him…”

“Rose?”

Her eyes stayed closed. Maybe this way, she wouldn’t cry. “I was terrified when I came here. I didn’t know what to do. I knew I was in over my head. I’d talked to the cops, but I didn’t think they believed what I was telling them. I came to you and—” And no point touching that. They both knew how the scene had ended. “Then the next day, he sent me the flowers.” She’d been in his sights.

“Who did? Dylan?”

“No.” Her eyes flew open. Another tear leaked down her cheek. “No, none of this is about him!” She jumped off the couch. Her body wanted to shake. “The killer, War. The killer sent the flowers. I think he sent you the picture of Dylan and me, too. I think he wanted me away from you.” It was making sense now. So much sense.

He studied me. Just as I was studying him.

“Maybe he saw you as a threat. Maybe he thought—with your background—I would get you to help me. Or maybe he just didn’t want to go up against you.” She shoved back her hair. “Doesn’t matter why, he just needed you out of the scene, so he removed you.” By playing on War’s jealousy. “He sent you the photo. You did the rest.”

“Rose…I am not following.”

Understandable. She was only just putting it all together herself.

War’s fingers curled around her shoulders. A careful, gentle touch. He’d always been so careful when he touched her. “The beginning,” he urged her. “Start there.”

Her breath shuddered out. “I’d been covering the crime beat at the station.” He hadn’t been thrilled