Redemption

By Mary Grant

FBI Special Agent Mathew Rossi and the team from the BAU have been chasing the Boston Harbor Killer for six years. Every time they get close to bringing the killer to justice, Kyle Tillman eludes them. Tillmans predatory existence is turned topsy-turvy when Amelia Kent shows up with the ability to see the good in him even though its only a glimmer of light in his dark, barren soul. Tillmans desire to protect Amelia from Mathew Rossi is countered by Mathew Rossis need to protect her from the killer. Tempers are, violence follows, and innocent people are about to die in the turmoil. Years of secrets are exposed, with twists and turns bringing everyone to a crescendo of the life-altering aftermath. Kyle Tillman will nally get the one prize he wants more than anything else in the world, but to remain free from prosecution, hell
use anyone, including Amelia, and everything to make sure that happens. When tragedy rocks their world, will Tillman have enough strength to let go of the one person who means everything to him? When the FBI and Tillman collide, no
one will be safe from the fury of the Boston Harbor Killer.
Follow the story of Amelia and Mathew as they work to build a life together. Secrets and lies just might derail them if they dont learn to trust each other.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 13, 2012
• ISBN: 9781479761449

Mary Grant

Mary Grant lived in New Hampshire and now she and her husband and two dogs live on the Gulf Coast of Florida. She was always driven by the need to write and would spend hours at night creating stories and scripts, all of the treasures hidden away when they were finished. The idea for The Secret Keepers and the sequel, The Truth Keepers, originated from a dream on Christmas night and the manuscripts wrote themselves from there.

Book preview

Prologue

T he long legged rays of the sun filtered through the curtains as they stepped over the shadows in Mathew’s bedroom. They cast a warm, golden glow on the dust particles dancing in the sunbeams. Mathew and Amelia’s bodies were as close together as two bodies could get, spooned in naked pleasure and tangled in the satin sheets around them. His thigh pushed Amelia’s leg forward as his hand moved slowly down the silkiness of her body, over her breast, down along the lines of her abdomen, over her hip, down the outside of her thigh, and his fingertips dragged along the same path back up her body. He could feel her quiver under his barely there touch; shudders of pleasure telegraphed his touch was doing its job.

Just admit it, you’re going to lose. Mathew shifted his weight behind her ever so slightly, and the instant pulsation made her moan with pleasure.

I’m not giving in, no matter what you do to me. She couldn’t make her body obey her mind as her legs slid along the satin sheets beneath her as every inch of her body tingled with electric sensations.

Really? I think I can convince you. He moved, sliding back slowly and then forward, and she heard him groan against her neck. Amelia tightened the muscles along her body, clenching tight around him. Oh my… I like that. He gasped, and his breathing increased in halted anticipation. All you have to do is give in, say it, and this could all be over, he said, and she giggled against him, her head tipped back against his brawny chest. He moved again, and she could hear him groan, his breath rasped in her ear and fluttered her curls. She moved her hand over her hip as it slid down his muscled abdomen, down into the depths of his groin, and again she heard him groan with pleasure. That is not fair, you’re cheating… he said in a strangled voice.

All’s fair, remember? she said, and he pushed her thigh forward as he slid inside her again. This time it was she who groaned, and her back arched automatically with the intense longing that was invading her body.

This is the only place I have control over you… He managed to get the whole sentence out before her hand moved again. His lips pressed against her head, just above her ear, and she could feel his warm breath dance along her hair follicles.

Amelia was losing the battle; her body was moving to his motion. She bit her lip and clenched her muscles tighter. Her body was his slave, and it never ceased to amaze her that she had no will power to resist him. He was moving slowly inside her, back and forth, back and forth, and the quivering started at the tip of her nose and ran the length of her body. Goosebumps sprang to life under his fingertips as he dragged them along her body.

Say it… Mathew muttered against the sweet aroma of her hair. . . . say it and stop torturing me. Amelia moved her other hand from beneath her and pulled his thigh tighter to her. Aye god, this is so not fair, woman. His voice lapsed into desperation.

Give in! You know you’re going to anyway. I could stay like this all day… Amelia said in a sweet, seductive tone. Mathew snaked his arms around her body and lifted them both to a sitting position. His body strength allowed him to move her as if she was a feather in his arms. She sat facing him with her legs wrapped around his body and she was staring into his blue eyes, the sheen of perspiration had their bodies glistening like gold in the rays of the sun. Relinquishing control, are we? Amelia asked him as she leaned forward and tightened her muscles around him again. He was shaking his head as furrows developed across his brow, and he was pushing his lips together as if he was in pain, trying desperately to keep control of his body.

No, I’m gaining the upper hand, he said slowly as his arms went around her body, his fingertips appearing over her shoulders like straps to a knapsack. She giggled again and began to grind her hips against him.

Aw, geeze! He breathed against her face as his lips found the curve of her throat. He kissed her, his tongue making lazy circles along her skin. She tipped back from him, her body aching for release as she lifted her hips up and down in a slow building, burning need. Say it, or I’m going to stop. He said as his tongue logged laps around her left nipple.

You couldn’t stop if you wanted to, I’m not giving in. Mathew moved quickly without interrupting his rhythm, pushing her down on her back beneath him. He could have crushed her with his weight, but he used his elbows to support most of his body as he flexed deeper inside her. She was having trouble breathing in a steady flow, and her heart was pounding inside her as surely as he was throbbing inside her. She was at the end of her endurance to hold out any longer, retain her resolve to outlast him. She raked her finger nails into the skin of his buttocks and dragged him in, his moaning sounded like sweet music in her head. Is that all you’ve got? she asked with a curve of her lips, and he smiled crookedly at her and thrust harder.

I think I’ve got just enough. His mouth was on hers, his tongue exploring the depths of her, searching for the secrets that lay hidden inside as his tongue stroked along the side of her tongue, touching, sweeping, and dancing. She could tell he was losing the battle to keep his control, his breath scorched against her face when he had to pull away to get air. She pushed her head deeper into the pillow, arching her back against him. He began to move inside her, faster and with more depth, his eyes were closed, and his face muscles tense with pleasure, and before they knew it they had both surrendered the battle with a tattered white flag flapping in their minds. Their bodies thrusting upward, moaning and panting for air, clinging and clawing at each other until the release left them spent in the tangled satin sheets.

It took a few moments for Mathew to get his lungs under control, the breathing to slow enough that it didn’t feel like he was going to drown. He smoothed her damp hair back from her face as he studied her. Her eyes were closed, and the most beautiful serene smile covered her face.

God, I love you. Mathew said as he kissed her chin, and her eyes dragged opened slowly dancing with delight.

I win, but I bet that I love you more, she announced with a grin, and she kissed him.

I doubt that could be possible. Amelia was his drug of choice, and it would never matter how much time passed, he would never be able to make his will bend from protecting and loving her.

This had been their private test of wills for nine months. She would refuse to give in and tell him she loved him while they made love. She only did it because she knew he needed that one second of control over her, and she’d never be controlled again by anyone. It didn’t mean she didn’t love him with her mind, her body, her very soul; it just meant she kept this part of her life to herself. It was the only thing she would not turn over to him; she owned the control she felt, she owned his needing her, him craving her, and it belonged only to her.

Mathew couldn’t get enough of her body or her existence in his life. She was the first thing he needed when his eyes opened in the morning, and most mornings it started before he was fully awake. It was her body that sent him into dream land at night after a long day at the FBI headquarters. He could listen to her laugh, and the warm sensation that filled him to overflowing always made him smile. The two of them could talk for hours about absolutely nothing, and he just needed to hear her voice. She meant everything to him, his world revolved around her, and he would do anything to make her happy. It was surreal to have her as part of his life. So many years had passed them by with him only being able to dream of a day when she would be his, and he could love her for the rest of his life.

His life had been a 180 degree shift. He’d gone from being single and carefree to having two children, a woman he adored and permanently entrenched in his life, and it had all happened within the blink of an eye. Most of his life, he had lived by another code. He had been untied, untamed, and bound to no one, and this is the way he thought his life was going to continue, right up until he allowed Amelia to soften his heart. He had always been a nomad who enjoyed his freedom and liked to be on the edge and raise a little Cain now and then. From a young man, he had never wanted to be fenced in or tied down, able to be with a woman and, when he got restless, just walk away. He had never found anyone who could hold his interest longer than a few months at a time. He wanted only what he had coming to him, never requiring more than he deserved and willingly taking the credit as well as the blame for the path his life had taken. He was a man who had no road map, no plan, no fear, no rules, and no restraint when it came to what he wanted, and Amelia had been all he had wanted for many years. He had been a level-headed, not too excitable guy who liked his life to be mostly slow and steady. He had already had too many twists and turns to suit him, but he was learning a new way to deal with the changes. He knew he had different sides, a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde; the side he used at work with the FBI to chase serial killers, and the family man he brought home to Amelia.

The Mr. Hyde part of his persona had developed at an early age and matured over the years to the inner animal that scratched at his mind when he was on the hunt for killers. Mr. Hyde needed to be the center of attention, the controller of his world, every part of his world, and nothing was safe from his reign. Mathew’s ability to see into the minds of the monsters he and the Behavioral Analysis Unit chased, especially the worst killer of them all, Kyle Tillman, made him walk a ragged line between justice keeper and outlaw. He had a frayed tether on his need to punish the man who had single-handedly tried to shatter his life for the last seven years. His mother had been brutally murdered, the love of his life had been sent away for crimes over which she had no control or knowledge, and his friend Jacob had been murdered by the Boston Harbor killer just to prove a point. Day after day, Mr. Hyde longed for the release of putting Kyle Tillman to death, slowly and painfully.

Dr. Jekyll, Mathew’s side he presented to the world, could be, at times, charming and warm, but in the last few years this side was rarely seen. It was easier and less painful to stay in the persona of a master hunter; he didn’t let emotion into his world that way. Mathew loved his family, loved being a father to his daughter and Jacob’s son, Adam. The two children made him want to be a better person, a person they could count on for love and protection from the animals of the world. It was Amelia who taught him he could feel love without feeling the pain of a past life, and she had opened his heart to possibilities.

He would wake up in the morning feeling good, so good he believed he could take the world on, and nothing could go wrong. He would go to work with one of those smiles that can’t be wiped away, just because the anticipation was too strong for those tangled sheets around their bodies when he got home at night. Everything Mathew had dreamed of for seven years was at his fingertips, so close he could almost grab the perfect life. Every day had been better than the day before, and he longed for a lifetime of loving this woman. It had been nine months since the warehouse debacle, and nine months of pretending everything in their world was perfect. It was the illusion of perfection that was dancing right before his eyes!

Chapter One

T he Morning after the Warehouse Games

The morning after the warehouse cataclysm, Mathew could barely move a muscle. Trying to take a full breath was next to impossible. The doctor at the hospital had wrapped tape around Mathew’s midsection to stabilize two broken ribs, sucking him tight to minimize any movement. The excruciating discomfort of broken ribs and the deep tissue bruising was making shallow breathing the job of the day. He concentrated on making his lungs use half the amount of air they normally required, anything above that felt like his chest was going to rip wide open in searing flames. His head didn’t feel much better than his rib cage. He had tried to open his eyes when the first light had seeped in through the curtains, and his immediate response was to wince and move, but that was before he remembered the crushing pain in his side. He didn’t try to move again for another hour! Every muscle in his body had frozen solid overnight and barely moving a finger sent shock waves through him.

The emergency room doctor had recommended that Mathew stay in the hospital for a few days, just to make sure there was no internal damage, like a ruptured spleen or lacerated liver, but the suggestion had fallen on deaf ears. He certainly wasn’t going to be stuck in a hospital and have Amelia try to navigate the drama that had consumed her with Kyle Tillman by herself. He had four stitches in his eye brow, and he wished the eye that was facing the rays from the sun was the eye that was sealed shut due to swelling but, of course, he couldn’t get that lucky. He also had three stitches in his scalp to close the wound from the sap. Lucky for him there was more blood than damage, and it looked worse than it was. He tried to run his tongue over his bottom lip, and the saliva burned the split flesh. He couldn’t remember being as beaten up as he was this morning, and he sure hoped it was a one-time thing.

Amelia had moved from the bed to the chair during the night. Trying to lie completely still and not rock the bed had not worked out well at all. Her left arm was in a sling supporting the weight, but it was doing nothing for the throbbing in the socket of her arm and shoulder. The ER doctor told her she’d have to come back in a few days when the muscle and tissue swelling had reduced so a better CT scan could be taken to see if any chips or cracks could be detected along the blade. Jessie Perrot had gotten a good swing on the 2 by 4, and Amelia had been at the far end of the board where all the power was when it hit her shoulder. Amelia’s eye was bruised and swollen, but at least there was not enough swelling to close the lid; she at least looked better than Matt.

Ow! Amelia said softly as she tried to move from the chair. Mathew kept his eyes closed, but his radar was directed at her movement.

Can I help? Mathew asked, as if he could spring from their bed and do anything for her.

Good morning. Amelia pulled her body from the chair slowly, a groan echoed from her chest. She stood beside him and carefully leaned over him as she smoothed his hair back. Wow, you look wonderful! Mathew let his good eye open slowly, and he could see the half smirk on her face.

I think I’m just going to lie here and die today! He tried to smile but winced when his lip pulled the split open. You have that sap handy, I could really use another whack, maybe just a little harder so I’ll sleep for a few days. He closed his eye again, and Amelia gently kissed his cheek.

I think the best I can do is a pain killer and some water.

How about you there, slugger? Are you doing okay this morning?

Better than you. Tell me what I can do for you. Do you need to get up and go into the bathroom?

Don’t you have a bed pan?

No. I’ve got a vase in the living room. We can see if you can hit that. Amelia watched as Mathew’s face constricted to keep from laughing. I’m sorry. No more jokes for a couple of days.

That’s probably a good idea. Amelia kissed him on the side of his mouth that didn’t have the split lip, he let his eye slide open, and she could see the warmth in his eyes like a welcoming friend.

Can I get some coffee and pain killers?

You, my darling, can have anything your little heart desires. I’ll go make some and bring it in to you. Amelia started to straighten up, and she felt his arm curled around her bottom, his hand resting on her hip.

Hey, he said gently, and Amelia cocked her head to the side and waited. I love you, Mathew said, as a smile tried to cross his lips again. She couldn’t help herself as she leaned over him and studied his gaze.

I love you more. She kissed him and held his hand for a moment. I’ll be right back.

Amelia stood at the counter staring at the coffee pot. She could feel the tremors moving in waves along her body. She steadied herself with a hand on the counter as she leaned her hip in for extra support. She didn’t want to think about yesterday. To open that door would bring on the realization of what she had done, and that was far too terrifying to think about right now. She had stood by the side of the bed last night and stared at Mathew’s battered body, and her guilt festered like a boil. She had been so angry, she had not been able to control Claire, and Claire had full reign of all that happened. Amelia couldn’t remember most of it but, staring down at the man in her bed, she knew Claire had no control either. How could she be so furious, so out of control, to do the amount of damage she had done to Mathew and not remember doing it? She had been too ashamed last night to ask Mathew what had happened, just watching him move and try to breathe was enough to keep her questions at bay.

She remembered the discussion with him before they had arrived at the warehouse. She remembered him teasing her about hitting him like a girl. She remembered swinging the sap and making contact with the side of his skull. That had brought on an immediate sick feeling in her stomach. They had arrived at the warehouse, and just before Amelia had put the duct tape over his mouth, he had told her how much he loved her. She remembered everything up to the point of Bob, Jason, and Gus clanging the door to the cell behind them as they locked themselves in, and then everything went black. Kyle had his arm around her neck, and it was cutting off her air, she remembered that, and she also remembered him pushing her away from his hold, but where was the rest of it? There was another blank spot of time that had lasted for almost ten hours. The next thing that was clear in her mind was being in the bull pen at FBI headquarters. Her arm was strapped in a sling, and her head seemed to be floating as if she was high. Mathew was taped up tight around his rib cage, so they must have been at the hospital. Was Kyle alive or dead? Not one person had mentioned his name in front of her, and she couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to him. Maybe he had gotten away, maybe he was safe somewhere, or maybe he was in jail. She just didn’t know! She didn’t know if the months of planning had paid off, and Kyle had incriminated himself in the murders. Nothing was in her mind, and it was as black as a bottomless cave.

Hamm had been with Liam. Amelia remembered him walking out of Liam’s office, but where had he been before that? Angry words had been exchanged between Mathew and Hamm. She had watched them from the bull pen. Jason was standing beside her like she was going to crumble into a pile of dust at any moment. Hamm, Mathew, Bob, and Gus had all been in the conference room with the door closed, but she could still tell by their animated hand gestures that anger was driving them. What had they argued about? She was assuming they had argued about her, but she didn’t know why, and no one was offering this information.

She didn’t know how she had gotten hurt; she was assuming that Kyle had done it, but that was only a guess. She concentrated on Kyle’s face, as she demanded her memory fill in the blanks. She had had the plan under control, and Kyle had been his usual charming self. Even if it was an act, he had been pleasant enough. Why did everything go dark?

Chapter Two

M athew listened for the click of the door latch as she left him for the kitchen, but he didn’t hear it, so he opened his good eye and could see she had left the door cracked open. He let his eye slide shut and tried to adjust his sore body on the mattress, but it brought an instant twinge of pain, which only brought on images of the day he had had yesterday.

Jessie Perrot was not an angel, but she surely didn’t deserve what Kyle Tillman had done to her. Mathew could still smell the gun powder, feel the reverberation from the blast, and he could see the bullet slamming into her back as she tried to escape the madness in the warehouse. He had not expected Jessie to be at the warehouse, and her presence had put a wrinkle into the well laid out plan immediately. The BAU had underestimated Tillman’s determination to get what he wanted from Claire. He had dangled Jessie in front of Claire like a chum line to a shark. When Mathew’s eyes had met Gus’s for a brief moment, they both understood the danger that had now intensified for all of them. Was there anything he could have done to save Jessie? He should never have allowed her to be dragged back into the plan in the first place was the only thought he could come up with. He should have protected her from Kyle, and if he really wanted to let his mind go deeper, he should have protected her from Claire. His part in Jessie’s death was going to be a guilty road for some time to come, and no amount of ‘wishing’ would change the outcome.

Jessie had been a beauty! She had caught Mathew’s eye immediately, and his desire to have her in his bed overruled his mind completely. It had been almost four years since Amelia had been swept away to a life of being institutionalized for murders she had not committed, and Mathew had been in hell every day since she left. The only bright spot to an otherwise lonely existence had been the arrival of his daughter, Siobhan. Amelia had gotten pregnant during their few short weeks together and had sent Siobhan home to him after her birth for him to raise. He tried to lose himself in a world that didn’t include any possibility of emotional hurt; he had already felt enough pain to last him a life time. He indulged in the only activity that seemed to quell his anger, the only activity that would make him cringe when he was finished. He had had many partners after Amelia left, many faces and names he didn’t care to remember. There were acts of sexual pleasure that satisfied his immediate need but left him lonelier than when he had started. When he met Jessie, she seemed like she could be the perfect distraction in his life, at least allow him a few hours away from the crippling pain of loss and guilt that consumed him. She had been a willing traveler down the path to hell that he had to travel to satisfy his overwhelming need for control. She enjoyed the roughness of their encounters, the thrill of becoming anything he required, no matter what it was. Jessie liked to be submissive to his dominating personality.

He was surprised, to say the least, when Jacob had entered McGill’s with the beautiful woman beside him. He was sure his eyebrow rose automatically in surprise, and he had tried very hard to keep the accusatory tone from his voice when Jake had introduced her to him. Jessie appeared more interested in Jacob than he in her, and Mathew studied them playing pool with Gus and Bob. If Jacob had moved on with Jessie, did that mean that Amelia was going to have to build some semblance of a life without him? Mathew didn’t want to dwell on the ‘what ifs’. He didn’t want to open that door and have his heart ripped to shreds again. Whether Jacob was in Amelia’s life or not, she would always love him more than she would ever love Mathew. He’d always be second best in her eyes, and that was not the way to start any kind of a life, in his mind.

Jacob wandered away from the pool table, not turning to watch Gus and Bob flirt like two teenage boys with a new student. Jake seemed to be ambivalent about Jessie Perrot.

You’re a long way from home, Mathew said, as he slid a full glass of whiskey in Jake’s direction. Jacob pulled the barstool out and glanced at Mathew. He raised the glass to Mathew, smiled, and slammed the burning fluid against the back of his throat.

I’m surprised you haven’t pickled your liver yet, Jacob said, as his face twisted with the burn.

I’m working on it, Mathew replied easily, leaning on his forearms that were resting on the bar.

It’s not what you think… Jacob said, and Mathew held up a hand to stop the information headed his way. He accepted the fact that life moved forward—maybe not for him so much, but Jake seemed to be moving forward.

I’m not thinking anything, Jake. What you do is your business, not mine.

Mathew could hear the pissed off attitude that raced through his head, but he ignored it and took a sip from his glass.

She’s just someone I met… I’m… Jacob tried again, as if he needed to confess to a priest.

Listen, Jake, I really don’t want to hear it, really! You’ve got to do what’s best for you, just like I do, Mathew said, as he threw the rest of the whiskey into his mouth and felt the burn slide down his throat. Jessie glided across the floor like a super model, ending her stage walk at Jacob’s shoulder. She leaned against his chair and batted her eyelashes at Mathew, and he had to chuckle to himself.

Agent Rossi, her voice sounded like velvet, like a hand written invitation to indulge in her body. Jake has told me so much about you. I’m glad I finally get to meet the famous FBI guy, Jessie purred, saying the sentence in slow, soft syllables. Mathew could imagine how her voice would sound moaning his name with pleasure, and he glanced away quickly to gather his thoughts back into line.

I don’t know about famous! Mathew didn’t stare at her, but he did let his eyes travel over her curves. The woman was definitely a looker!

Looks like Gus and Bob are going to beat each other with the pool cues if I don’t intercede, Jacob said as he stood from the stool, smiling a devilish grin. Jessie watched him walk away, her eyes just as seductive as she watched him go.

When Jacob was in a deep discussion with Gus and Bob, Jessie turned her attention back to Mathew. Her eyes softened into pools of blue water, dragging Mathew in with her pouty smile and red lips. She sat on the barstool and let the toe of her high heel brush against Mathew’s leg. He felt himself groan quietly down deep in the pit of his belly. He glanced at her, and the split in her skirt revealed a very tempting leg.

Buy a lady a drink, Mr. FBI? Jessie smiled and ran her thumb along her bottom lip.

God, she is not making this easy, Mathew thought as he shifted on the stool.

What would the lady like? Mathew asked, his eyes glued to hers, but his hand was motioning for Riley.

Whatever it is you’re drinking will be fine with me. Jessie let her tongue trace a slow line between her lips.

Two whiskeys! Mathew said, glancing at Riley, and then back at Jessica’s lips.

I understand from Jake that you chase serial killers. That must be a fascinating job. Jessie leaned in to him, using her propped up chin to tease him with her nearness. Mathew smiled slowly and pushed a shot glass at her as Riley slithered away from them.

When things go right, it can be.

And are things going right? Jessie asked, and Mathew caught the aroma of her perfume.

Not today! was all he offered her. What do you do, Ms. Perrot? Mathew wanted to be as far away from the subject of serial killers as he could possibly get. This woman was making his insides stir, making his body flame with need.

I’m a securities exchange lawyer, and please call me Jess.

Lawyer? God, this was another subject he wanted to be a million miles away from.

I get that a lot. Lawyers rank up there with serial killers. Jessie giggled, and Mathew almost spewed his drink between his lips.

You have no idea! Mathew let an easy laugh slide from his body. God, did that feel good!

Where’s your girlfriend, Agent Rossi? I can’t believe a man who looks like you would be allowed out without a chaperone. Jessie leaned in a little closer and dropped her voice so it was as silky as satin.

I don’t do the girlfriend thing. I’m a love ’em and leave ’em kinda guy.

Really? I don’t much care for emotional attachments myself. Too easy to get tangled up… and I’d much rather get tangled in my sheets than lovey dovey stuff. I get restless too easy, and then I’ve got to go.

Mathew raised an eyebrow at her and smiled knowingly. Well, we have something in common then.

You seem rather lonely, Agent Rossi.

It’s Mathew, and I’m not lonely, he lied, and this brought a fresh smile to her pretty face.

That makes one of us then.

Mathew glanced down the length of the bar toward the pool table. Jessie gently shook out her blonde hair, pulling it over her shoulder.

I’m not with Jake, if that is what you’re wondering.

I’m not wondering that at all.

Do you feel like getting out of here? Jessie asked and ran a fingernail down Mathew’s arm.

Maybe.

Don’t worry about me, Agent Rossi. I like my freedom just as much as you do. When I’m done with you, you won’t even hear the door latch click.

Mathew smirked, his eyebrow raised in disbelief.

Maybe we should put that theory to the test then?

I’ve got energy to burn; I sure hope you’re able to keep up. Jessie teased, and Mathew smiled at her again.

Time will tell, Ms. Perrot.

And so it had started! Jessica became a distraction in Mathew’s life that had lasted almost two years. As she had promised, she never insinuated herself into his life other than the sex they both enjoyed. It was Matt who had finally started to relent on his firm belief that he needed no one. He began to date her, take her to a movie, out to dinner, out for ice skating. It was his fault she was involved in his life when Kyle Tillman came calling. He didn’t love her, didn’t feel a connection to her that he had tried to find over the months they spent together. It seemed to him that his mind and body were missing a part that would allow him to feel love. Jessie allowed him to expel his frustrations, his anger, and his drive to dominate every aspect of their sexual relationship, but when they were done, he still required her to walk out his door until he expected her services the next time.

Tillman must have blackmailed her, used her somehow to get close to Mathew to draw information from him like honey from a hive. Amelia had warned him about Jessie being involved with Tillman, but Mathew would never admit a mistake like that had happened, not even to Amelia. He could have saved her, and he knew it deep down. All he had to do was follow his gut and cut her loose from their relationship. Looking back on it, most of the reason was his selfish pride. Amelia had chosen her path with Jake, and he had been left out in the cold. Seeing how Amelia reacted to Jessie fueled him, and her accusations infuriated him. Her crying and heart brokenness made him crumble.

Yesterday in the warehouse, Mathew had witnessed a side of Amelia that terrified him. Claire had been so willing to fight, so willing to take any abuse Kyle could give her, and she never backed down. Her anger had been so raw, so out of control, that when Kyle had shot Jessie, Claire actually laughed. The complete isolation and coldness that Claire wielded like a shield stunned him. Staring into her eyes as she pressed the gun to her head and then at his was like looking into the blackest places of their souls. Her eyes were dead—no emotion, no remorse, no fear, and certainly no recognition of life outside her mind.

Mathew had never before in his life felt that kind of terror—the hopeless emptiness of knowing he had allowed Claire to claim Amelia’s life just like Hamm had warned him she would. In that moment just before the click of the hammer, Mathew knew she was lost, and she would not be able to fight her way back in time to save her or him. Only by chance had the chamber been empty, and only by chance was Claire angrier at Kyle than she had been at him. He would never doubt for a moment for the rest of his life that Claire would have killed him.

When they had been in the bull pen after they returned from the hospital, Amelia didn’t ask about Tillman. She seemed shut down, in shock, unable to process what had happened just hours before. Mathew desperately wanted to hold her in his arms and comfort her, but whenever he moved close to her, she crossed her arms protectively around herself and moved away from him. It had only taken seconds for her world to implode; she had been the fuse, and he had lighted the match!

Hamm paced restlessly around the conference room at the FBI headquarters, passing Gus, Bob, and Liam, as if he, too, was going to lose control. Mathew leaned sideways as he stood by the door, waiting for his turn to receive the wrath from hell. Hamm finally came to an abrupt halt when he saw Jason enter the bull pen with Amelia, her arm strapped to her body in a shoulder sling, and it only infuriated him further. The FBI had used her, allowed her to walk into a dark and twisted world that had longed to claim her. She had willingly accepted the anger that coursed through her body, allowing it to control her actions. Amelia had become the one thing that she had run from for years. She had plunged into the world of a psychopath. She was not merely a woman with Dissociative Identity Disorder, now she had tasted death at her whim.

You arrogant bastard! Hamm hissed, his eyes drilling holes into Mathew’s skull. What have you done?

Dr. Hammond… Liam turned slowly as he glared at Hamm.

Don’t you dare… any of you, Dr. Hammond me… Hamm waved his arm in the air in a swirling motion. . . . You have no damn idea what you have done to that girl. You let her walk head first into a psychopath’s world, almost pushing her head first…

Dr. Hammond, this plan was originally Amelia’s. She wanted to do this. Liam tried to defray the coming accusations that would be directed at Mathew. Mathew already knew it would never matter whose idea it was, he just knew it was the wrong one. He wanted Tillman badly enough to allow Amelia to put her life and mental health on the line to achieve what he wanted, the outcome that he selfishly wanted. It was his blame to carry, and no one else’s, so taking the brunt of Hamm’s anger was his and due for a good reason.

Amelia’s? Really? You let a woman with a known psychological problem tell the FBI what they needed to do to catch a serial killer? Hamm advanced slowly on Mathew. Mathew let his jaw flex with anger, unwilling to unload all his built up anger at the only man who had tried for years to save Amelia. Look at her, Mathew… look what doors you have opened into her mind… Mathew didn’t need to look at her, he had already seen down the dark passageways of Amelia’s mind; he already knew and understood what he had done to her.

The decision was mine, Dr. Hammond, not Agent Rossi’s. Liam stepped closer to the two men.

And how hard did you fight to protect her, Mathew? Did it feel good to get even?

Son of a bitch… Mathew was closing the distance between them before Gus and Bob could restrain him.

Are you going to hit me, too? How’s it feel to have your anger out on display for all the world to see, Agent Rossi? You’re going to get that girl killed with your arrogance. Hell, you almost got her killed today. Did you enjoy watching her pull the trigger with the gun pushed against her scalp? Hamm hissed like a coiled snake, and Mathew struggled against his keepers.

Agent Rossi! Liam’s reprimand did nothing to squelch Mathew’s burning need to punish someone. Dr. Hammond, I suggest you take your accusations and direct them at the only person who had the directive about whether this mission went forward, and that would be me, not Agent Rossi. Liam stood between the two angry men, his eyes flashing a warning to Hamm.

Mission? What mission? You willingly destroyed that girl because you couldn’t find evidence against a psychopath. You have destroyed all the good it took years to build. What do you think is left in her? Hamm turned to Mathew again, his arm gesturing at Amelia on the other side of the glass wall. Turn around, tough guy, take a look at the shell of a woman that is left.

The group of men turned and looked at Amelia standing in the bull pen beside Jason, and her body language echoed chaos. She had her arms wrapped tight to her, and she was slumped at the shoulders, as if they were pinched together. Her face was calm, no emotion, no fear, nothing! Mathew felt the now familiar flow of guilt as he studied her through the glass. He wasn’t immune to what he had contributed to her downward spiral, and he understood what role he had played in all of it.

Mathew knew he had a dark side, a side he tried to keep hidden from the world. Living in the minds of the animals he chased let him infiltrate the darkest portions of his soul. Years of thinking, walking, talking, and feeling what killers did allowed him the luxury of catching them, but it also ignited deep fears within his own psyche that one day he would walk too far inside his mind to find the one thing he would need to become like them—murder!

For years, Mathew had been able to pull his mind back to the present, but lately Kyle Tillman was teaching him new lessons about the dark side of his own personality. It felt like he rocked on a teetering grey line when Tillman was involved. The more Tillman did and got away with, the longer it took for Mathew to pull his mind back and not go hunting for the animal that possessed too much control over his life. Other killers did not have the impact on Mathew that this man did. Tillman had murdered Mathew’s mother, he had sealed Amelia’s fate for five years, he had murdered Mathew’s friend, he had murdered Jessie, and all of it was just for the love of the game for him.

Nietzsche’s quote seemed to find a residency in Mathew’s mind. "Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you." Mathew already knew his monster was not far from the surface anymore, and it didn’t take much to have him scratch and claw his way out.

Chapter Three

M athew’s eye flickered open, and he was met with silence in their bedroom. He listened for the telltale sounds from the kitchen and was momentarily surprised he didn’t hear Siobhan chatting with Adam and him mumbling back in his very sophisticated baby dialogue. It took only another moment of silence before he remembered where he was and why every inch of his body was throbbing with pain. The kids were in Boston with his dad, and it was just him and her at the farm. He lolled his head to the side, glancing at the clock and listening again. He had fallen asleep after Amelia had left the bedroom. The house was too silent, and a tinkling little alarm bell began to sound in the far reaches of his mind.

He managed to pull his body to a sitting position on the edge of the bed as he let the swaying motion of his brain settle before he tried to stand. As the blood rushed to his brain, a dull ache settled over it. He stood carefully, cradling his rib cage, and using his free hand as a support on the bed post. He walked out of the room, taking slow, methodical steps toward the kitchen.

Amelia was leaning against the counter when Mathew cleared the door frame of the living room. Her body was still, as if she was suspended in time, in another time! All he had done in the name of love for this woman always took him to a place that was between good and evil, and he wondered now if he had gone too far. Her well-timed silence was more eloquent than any speech she could have made. No bull horn was needed in the kitchen for Mathew to understand what Amelia was faced with now in the long road to recovery ahead of them.

Need some help? Mathew’s easy tone made her jump.

Geeze! Amelia said as she turned quickly, startled by his nearness. Mathew’s hand flew up as if he was going to protect his already beaten mid-section. Amelia moved back two steps, and she didn’t even know why. Her brain was shouting warnings to her body to move away, to keep as much distance as possible from Mathew, when all she wanted was to be in his arms.

Sorry… my fault… I shouldn’t have been so quiet. Sorry, honey! Mathew put his hands down, and she noticed him leaning to the left.

What are you doing out of bed? Amelia said in a huff.

I can’t lie there all day. The lie was evident in his voice. Are you okay? He hadn’t been lying about that; he couldn’t stay away from her knowing she needed him right now more than air.

Sure, I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be? Amelia found there was hostility in her tone, and she didn’t mean for it to be there. She felt as if she had little control over her emotions this morning, and she wished now she had stuck to her guns and not allowed Mathew to bring her home and stay the night.

I’m just checking is all. You’ve been out here for half an hour. Mathew backed his aching body to the bench at the kitchen table, and she watched him lower himself gingerly onto it. She glanced at the clock on the coffee pot, and it had been closer to 40 minutes. More moments of darkness—would there ever be an end to the blackouts?

I’m sorry… I’m moving a little slow. I’ll get your coffee started.

Mathew watched as she tried to hide the tremors in her hand as she put the coffee grounds into the filter.

I’d like to see if my dad would keep the kids for the week, he started to say, and her movement stopped. She was listening but waiting for him to say something. I think we both need a little quiet time.

She remained frozen, and he cocked his head to the side as he watched her.

I can’t lift Adam, and neither can you right now. What do you think?

It was like she was misfiring in her brain, sudden stops and then immediate starts as if her brain wasn’t getting the gas it needed to stay running smoothly.

Whatever you think is fine with me, Amelia said as she tried to unscrew the childproof lid from the prescription bottle of pain killers. Holding the bottle in her left hand and applying pressure to the lid with her right made her wince with pain.

Let me help you, Mathew said with an outstretched hand.

Amelia’s initial response was not going to be pleasant, but she shook her head slowly, pushing the outburst away. Why was she on edge? Nothing felt close to normal this morning; everything about Mathew’s nearness was making her skin crawl, as if she should be miles away from him, as if she should be locked safely away from him.

I’ve got it! she snapped, as she pushed the bottle against the counter and held it with her hip, forcing the lid to twist with her right hand. Mathew watched as she poured two tablets onto the counter and filled his coffee cup with water. As she approached him, her hand trembled with the cup and the two pills, and Mathew took them from her as his eyes narrowed. I think you should go home… the kids. She couldn’t come up with a good reason for him to leave, and her face pinched together.

We talked about this last night. I’m not leaving you alone. I’m here and I’m staying here. Mathew took the cup from her, threw the two pills into his mouth, and carefully took a gulp of water. You can try to run me off all you like, but I’m pretty sure you won’t win.

I’m not trying to run you off. I’m trying to keep you safe. As soon as she said the sentence, she was shaking her head, unsure why she felt he wasn’t safe.

I’m safe, I’m safe with you! Mathew said it with such certainty that Amelia almost felt it was true. A sudden rush of tenderness swept through her, and she cupped his cheek with her hand.

I love you… so much.

C’mere and give me a kiss then. She wanted to be in his arms, wrapped securely in those muscled serpents, but to do that, both would need more pain killers. She kissed him tenderly, careful of his split lip.

You’re probably right about the kids staying with your father. Adam wouldn’t understand why you couldn’t roughhouse with him. She studied his face for a moment, looking at the damage from yesterday, and she brushed his hair back smoothly. Did you talk to your father last night?

I called him from the hospital. I just wanted to make sure he knew we were all right before he heard anything on the news, Mathew said gently to her. He said to give you a hug and kiss from him and the kids. Amelia felt smothered suddenly and stepped back from him. She ran her hand down the front of her robe as if brushing away something annoying.

He’s a very good man, your father. I think you should call Siobhan, Amelia turned and walked back to the counter as the trembling cascaded over her. She’ll be anxious to hear from you.

Mathew’s brow furrowed slowly with concern as he watched her, but he had to give her time to get her balance back. He used the table as leverage and lifted his body slowly.

I think I will call. She’s up, I’m sure. Mathew moved to the wall where the phone hung and picked up the handset, entering the phone number, and then pressing it to his ear. Good morning, Dah. Yes, we’re okay, sore, but okay… no… His end of the conversation seemed guarded to her, as if they were talking in code. I’m sure there will be. IAD will want to talk to Gus and Jason, probably today… they’ll get to me soon enough. I’ll have an advocate with me… yes, I’m sure…

She could see from the corner of her eye that Mathew was watching her, and she could hear the tone in his voice. Advocate, why would Mathew need a representative when he talked to the Internal Affairs people?

I’m on medical leave for a month. I’ve got to see the company shrink this week… no, I don’t need to talk to him, but I have to, to get back on the job… No, I haven’t heard, and I don’t give a damn one way or the other… I’m fine, Dah! . . . Listen, can you keep the two hellions for the week? I’m uncomfortable enough that I can’t be much help to Amelia with the kids if they come home. Mathew shifted the phone to his other ear as he spoke. Yes, I hear her in the background. Thanks. There must have been a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, and Amelia looked at him and smiled; it was halfhearted, but a smile nonetheless. He’d take it for now. Good morning, Angel… yes… slow down baby… no, you can’t lock Adam on the lanai for fun. Stop… she’s right here, hang on. Mathew had known that once Siobhan had said her first few words, the next thing she’d want to hear was her mother. He held out the phone to Amelia, and she took it with another smile.

Hello, baby, Amelia leaned her head against Mathew’s chest just below his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm across her shoulder, resting his chin on top of her head. I’m fine… no, I wasn’t scared, your Dah was right there with me… Mathew felt her shudder against his body. He put his hand on the side of her head and pulled her closer as he let his lips rest against her hair. Would you mind staying with Grand Dah for a few days and helping with your brother? I’m not sure exactly, four or five days. Good girl! I love you too. Give Adam a big hug for me, would you, and tell him his mum loves him. Yes, I promise I’ll call you later. I’ll give your Dah a big hug from you, too. I love you, Siobhan. Mathew heard the steady tone of an empty phone line, and Amelia let the phone dangle from her hand. She hung up!

She really only wanted to talk to you anyway, luv! She wanted to hear your voice. Mathew said as he kissed her temple. Amelia moved from his hold and smiled at him as she hung up the handset.

Chapter Four

D r. Douglass Hammond was sitting on the back deck at his house in Bangor, Maine, on a cool spring evening. His beer was still cold, the chips and dip he had been sharing with Lucy were almost gone, and he was considering making some dinner so it would be ready when Rene walked through the door in an hour. He looked down at Lucy, and she was watching two deer at the edge of the yard root around for acorns. The Labrador’s muzzle was salt and pepper colored like Hamm’s head, but she still made for good company. He seemed to spend a lot of time running ideas about patient care past her, and he and the dog had a good working relationship. He’d tell her what his path was going to be for a recovery plan, and Lucy would never argue his thinking; it worked perfectly.

Hamm’s clothes were disheveled, and his hair was a mass of tentacles, un-brushed and bed worn. His five o’clock shadow was more like a forgotten hygiene requirement from days ago, making his face look used and old. He was wearing a pair of khaki pants with well-worn knees, a sweater that had pulled yarn sticking out over most of his stomach, and his eyes seemed distant and tired.

Today would not be the first day that Rene returned home from work to find him sitting on the porch, drinking bourbon, and eating potato chips with Lucy. Since Jacob had been buried, Hamm seemed to be floating between a drunken stupor and moments of angry clarity. Two months had raced by him since Kyle Tillman had been shot, Claire had tried to murder Mathew and Amelia, and Hamm couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone and call her. If Mathew answered the phone, within seconds they would be at each other’s throats, accusingly and belligerently trying to hurt each other. Hamm had a constant reminder of how he had let Amelia down after Jacob had been murdered, and she had not tried to hide her contempt for him when he had gone to Boston to see her after the warehouse fiasco.

He had an interior battle raging in his mind about the idiotic sequence of life and how innocent people always seemed to be the ones to suffer. People like Kyle Tillman got away with being shot, but he was alive and recovering. Jacob, however, was never going to recover, and Amelia would always pay the price. There was nothing Hamm could do to fix the situation. Rene accused him of hiding out in the back woods of Maine, sealing himself off from the one person who needed him the most. Hamm couldn’t find the strength in his body or his mind to help Amelia; he couldn’t even help himself.

The phone next to the bowl of dip started to ring, and the deer jumped to life and skittered into the darkness of the woods. Lucy stood up and watched them and then turned to Hamm with a questioning look. Hamm shrugged his shoulders and waited a few more rings before he picked up the phone, hoping the person would give up and go away. Most everyone he knew had stopped calling weeks ago when all they got was ring after ring and no answer—and no return phone call.

Hello, he said as he patted Lucy’s head absently.

Douglass… Will Saunders… how the hell are ya? the voice said, and Hamm cracked a smile.

Good, Will. How are things with you? His voice sounded hollow in his ears, almost to the point of rudeness.

Never better! Listen, I have a proposition for you. Are you available for a consult? Will asked in an excited tone, and Hamm felt annoyance slither like a serpent through his body.

Will Saunders was District Attorney for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. He and Douglass had become friends over the years and had worked on a number of murder cases together. Hamm would evaluate the mental capacity of the criminal, delving into the underbelly of the animal to see if they were capable of standing trial. The two men had a well-rounded respect for each other and spoke often, even if it was just to shoot the shit and pass a few moments talking about fishing. Hamm would visit every time he was in Boston, every time he had gone to check on Amelia, before… before Jacob had been murdered. Those visits were now few and far between, coming to a complete stop after Amelia’s diatribe at the FBI office in Boston. Will and Hamm would go to dinner and discuss the degenerates that inhabited the earth; it was wonderful conversation for two old war horses like them.

Consult, with whom? Hamm asked as he put a chip in his mouth. He had already decided this conversation was going to be short. Consult? If he had to leave the porch or pick up a patient file, the answer most assuredly was going to be no.

Kyle Tillman…

No. Hamm ladled dip on the chip and passed it to Lucy. Just the mere mention of Tillman’s name constricted the muscles along Hamm’s shoulders, and he bristled like a porcupine confronted by a dog.

C’mon, I need you on this one.

No, Hamm said with a little more annoyance, as if Will hadn’t heard him the first time.

Well, why not?

I have patients, number 1. Number 2, no! Hamm said, and he could hear Will laugh on the line.

How about number 3?

Listen, Will, I have no interest in talking to him, even for you. Besides, it would take three months to do an in-depth evaluation, and I don’t have the time. Hamm heard Will heave a sigh on the other end of the line, and he knew Will was going to play the what if card.

"I need you on this. There’s no one better than you, and I need someone who can sniff out a crazy person. Besides, you haven’t got any patients, you haven’t been to the office in months, the garden behind your house is dead, and Rene is going to murder you if you don’t get