Not because he was a monster. She knew that, with utter certainty.

A monster who would never hurt me. But, to her father, the rest of the world was more than fair game.

No, he scared her because . . . I hate him. She hated the man who’d murdered and tortured so brutally. A man who’d rightfully earned the moniker of Murphy the Monster.

But . . . I love him. She still remembered when he taught her to ride her bike. When he lifted her up to put the star on the Christmas tree. When he would take her camping and they would eat roasted marshmallows under the stars . . .

All before she’d learned the truth.

“I want to check on Wade,” Sarah said. “See how he’s doing.”

Victoria’s hands slid away from Sarah’s. “He’s getting frustrated. You know, typical Wade. The guy is more than ready to bust out of here, but the docs want to keep him for observation.”

Sarah and Victoria slipped from that waiting room and started walking down the hallway.

“I thought I’d have to tie him to the bed,” Victoria confided with a shake of her head. “And then—” Her words ended abruptly because she’d just seen the three big, tattooed men who were waiting around the corner. Men who immediately stood when they saw Sarah.

They were her guards. Guards that Jax had insisted follow her to the hospital.

She’d tried to tell him she was fine, but he hadn’t bought that. And with the way this case was going, Sarah hadn’t exactly minded a bit of protection.

Especially protection that looked so capable.

“Victoria, this is Carlos . . .”

He inclined his head. He smiled at Victoria, and his scar rippled.

“George.” Sarah pointed to the man with a buzz cut and a nose ring.

Victoria waved at him.

“And Nate.”

“Ma’am,” Nate said, his voice pretty much like that of a bear growling. His hands were loose at his sides, and the dark, golden tiger that curved around his left hand almost looked alive.

“Uh, hello,” Victoria said. “Nice tats.” Then she glanced at Sarah. “They’re all with you?”

“Well . . .”

“The boss wants Ms. Sarah to have an escort,” Carlos said. “Until he can get back with her. Her safety is our priority.”

Victoria frowned as she studied Sarah. “You’re not telling me everything.” Her voice rose a bit. “You’re keeping things from the team, aren’t you?”

Sarah bit her lip. “I told you, he’s connected with my father.”

“And?”

Sarah hesitated.

“You’ve got a group of bodyguards—three of them!—standing right here. What aren’t you telling me?”

Sarah cast a quick glance toward the men. She really hated to reveal all the shady bits of her past in front of them. “I’m his target,” she said quietly. “Wade was hurt because of me. Molly was taken because of me. Because the guy out there is furious with my father and he will use anyone, do anything, in order to get to me.”

Victoria took a step back. “Hurting you . . . it hurts Murphy.”

“I don’t think anything actually hurts him.” Despite what he’d said in the past. Knowing him as she did, Sarah often doubted if he actually loved her. Psychopaths were great when it came to mimicking emotions, but actually feeling them? No, that didn’t usually happen.

Her father operated without any guilt. He didn’t understand remorse. He’d fooled so many people—including Sarah—into thinking he was normal because he was so very good at manipulation. When you looked at Murphy Jacobs, you saw what he wanted you to see.

“But . . .” Sarah cleared her throat. “As far as the rest of the world is concerned, I’m his daughter. He’s supposed to care about me. So if you want to hurt him, you go after his family.”

“Oh, Sarah.” Victoria sighed. The overhead light glinted off her glasses. “What can I do?”

Stay away from me. She almost said those words. But she knew Victoria would take them the wrong way. Sarah wanted to put some distance between herself and the team because she needed to protect them. She needed to find the perp out there and stop him. If he wanted to get at Murphy so badly, then she would gladly throw those two in jail together.

Two killers, one cell. They could battle it out.

But that wasn’t the way the law was supposed to work. I’m not the law.

“We’re going to stop him,” Sarah said as she straightened her shoulders. Her guards were avidly watching. “We’ll find this guy and we won’t let him hurt anyone else. Molly will wake up, and she’ll help to ID him.”

Victoria’s face showed her worry. “Are you going to be all right?”

Sarah forced a smile. “With these guys?” She gestured to her silent guards. “How could I not be?” But the guards wouldn’t be around forever, she knew that. “Now, let’s go check on Wade . . . before he drives those nurses crazy.”

EDDIE GUTHRIE WAS strapped to a table. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten on that table. He didn’t know where the hell he was or what was happening.

He jerked hard, but the straps were too tight. They wouldn’t give.

“Easy . . .” It was a man’s voice. Right next to him. “We’re trying to help you.”

No, no, they weren’t. They were holding him down. He was struggling, screaming.

Hard hands grabbed him. “Hold him down! Secure him!”

Eddie’s mind was twisting chaos. He looked up and he saw a monster in front of him. A man with a mask over his face. He screamed again and twisted his body.

The table he was on . . . it fell. Eddie hit the floor with a crash.

“He needs to be sedated!”

Sedated . . . he struggled to think, but his mind felt so thick and confused. Sedated . . . did that mean they wanted to drug him?

“No!” Eddie roared. He lunged away from the floor, kicking and shoving at the straps.

“We need to know what the guy has been given!” That sounded like a woman’s voice. High and sharp and scared. “He was seizing before . . . hell, the way he’s looking at us, you’d think he was seeing—”

Monsters.

He swiped out and his fingers found . . . a knife? It was shiny like a knife. Sharp. But . . . it was something else. He knew the weapon had a name, but he couldn’t remember it. It was so hard to remember anything right then.

“He’s got a scalpel!” That shrieking woman was yelling again. “Get back!”

Footsteps scrambled back.

His eyes narrowed. He wanted to see them, but there were shadows darting across his vision. He swiped out, trying to knock those shadows away. They were like . . . like the dark ghosts he’d seen at a haunted house once. Fabric, hanging on a wire.

“Haunted house . . .” he whispered. He took another swing at the shadows, slicing with his weapon. Maybe he could cut them down.

“That guy is insane!” a man shouted. “He’s still tripping on something. Get the guards. Guards!”

More footsteps thudded into the room. That meant more people, right? He stopped swinging and narrowed his eyes as he tried to see them.

That was when Eddie saw the guns. Two big, hulking men had their guns aimed at him.

“Drop the scalpel, now!” one snarled.

He rubbed his forehead. He was sweating. It was so hot in there. So hot he couldn’t think. “Where am I?” He had memories pushing through his mind, trying to get past the thick fog that had been weighing him down. He remembered . . .

I was in a mask.

But, no, why would he have worn a mask?

Have to kill her. A life for a life.

His body shuddered. He took a step back.

He remembered . . .

I had a knife in my hand. I put the knife to the woman’ s throat.

He looked down and saw the glint of the light, shining off the weapon in his hand.

Did I kill someone?

His fingers tightened around that weapon.

He remembered . . . jail. A cell. A big, blond man saying that Molly . . .

“Where’s Molly?” Eddie asked, his voice rasping out. His heart was racing. His palms were sweating. Every breath he took seemed to burn his lungs. “Where’s my sister?”