Jennifer Wesley was very skilled when it came to lying. After all, he’d believed her lies, too—every word that came from her sweet lips.

Then he’d been captured, tossed into a cell, and forgotten.

Did you really think you wouldn’t have to answer for your sins against me?

He’d had eyes on her, even when they’d been an ocean away. And now that he was killing close, there truly would be no escape.

He wondered if Jennifer realized he’d just been playing with her so far, drawing out the kill.

In that alley, he’d just had to spill first blood. It was the way the game always started.

Then he’d started that fire at her home, a carefully timed explosion, but he’d known she would escape. The fire wasn’t set to kill. It was set to destroy your safe haven.

The hit-and-run outside McGuire Securities? That had been just a little taunt to let her know he was close.

He’d set the bomb in the Mustang with a time delay. He’d wanted her to get out of the vehicle and wanted Brodie McGuire to see the photograph. That image should have made Brodie cast her aside.

Then he would have moved in for the kill. Jennifer Wesley’s death would be an intimate event. He’d take her far away from the rest of world. It would be just the two of them, for days...until he ended her suffering. And he would make her suffer, just as she’d made him endure years of torture.

Jennifer Wesley’s past had come back to haunt her.

You reap what you sow.

Time to up the stakes.

Chapter Five

She’d taken care of her horse. Lady was settled for the night, and Jennifer was ready to crash. She turned away from the stables, her shoulders slumping and her steps slow with a sudden weariness.

Why can’t the danger ever be over? I wanted to leave that life behind me.

“I don’t trust you.”

She stumbled to a stop at that low, rumbling voice. A voice that was very similar to Brodie’s but...

It belonged to his twin. The harder, rougher drawl gave him away.

Jennifer glanced toward the shadows of the ranch house and saw Davis. He’d been so still that she hadn’t noticed him when she’d left the stables. He’d blended perfectly with the growing darkness.

It was a mistake that Jennifer shouldn’t have made. Being a civilian had made her soft. She’d stopped looking for threats in every corner.

Davis stepped away from the house and advanced toward her. “I don’t trust you,” he said again. “And, unlike my brother, I’m not so tangled up in you that I can’t see the danger you present.”

Brodie was tangled up in her? Since when? She glanced over her shoulder. Brodie was still in the stables, settling down his horse.

Davis caught her arm, and her attention snapped back toward him. “No one is going to hurt my brother.”

“I’m not here to hurt him.” Hurting Brodie had never been part of her plan.

“Aren’t you?”

She tried to search his gaze, but it was too dark for her to see much at all. But she could feel the deadly intensity that clung to him. “The last thing I want to do is hurt Brodie.” That was the truth.

He pulled her toward him. “My brother was almost run down the first night you came to town. Today, he was seconds away from being blown to hell and back.”

She swallowed.

“There’s a target on you. By coming to my brother for help, you put a target on him, too.”

Tears stung her eyes. Brodie had been her only hope. She’d actually thought her stalker would stay behind in Louisiana, that she’d buy time by going to Brodie and that—

No, I didn’t think this through. I was scared and I fled. I never thought about the risk to Brodie.

“Help me to get away,” Jennifer whispered.

His hold tightened on her.

“I don’t want him hurt,” she said, and she fought to keep the emotion from her voice. “I don’t want any of you hurt.” Especially since it appeared she’d already led pain to the McGuires before. Dear God, did I cause their parents’ death? Ever since she’d seen the picture her stalker had left behind, the question had haunted her. “Distract Brodie, give me a car to use, and I’ll vanish.”

Vanishing... Hadn’t that been her backup plan all along? But she’d been so determined to cling to this life she had. A life that had never been her own, not really.

It’s time to let go.

Because when it came down to a choice...letting Jennifer Wesley live or protecting Brodie... Well, there was no choice.

The stable doors groaned behind her. She knew the sound meant Brodie was coming out. “Help me,” she told Davis, making sure her voice wouldn’t carry far. “Tonight...distract him, and I’ll vanish.”

Gravel crunched beneath Brodie’s booted feet. “Everything all right out here?”

This time, the Texas drawl was stronger in his voice.

“Everything’s fine,” Jennifer rushed to reassure him.

“Davis?” Brodie closed in on them. “There a reason why you’re holding her arm?”

And Davis did still have his grip on Jennifer.

He dropped her arm, fast, and backed up a step.

“I stumbled,” Jennifer said quickly. She didn’t want Davis lying to his brother. She was the one good at lying, so why not stick with her skill set? “Davis steadied me.”

“Did he?” Brodie’s voice was doubtful.

She forced her shoulders to straighten. “I’m too tired. Barely walking straight. I think I’ll just...turn in for the night.”

No, she thought she’d plan her escape. As she passed him, her gaze cut to Davis. She still couldn’t read the expression in his eyes, but he gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Relief made her feel a little dizzy. He was going to do it. She’d slip away. Brodie would be safe.

And Jennifer Wesley would vanish.

* * *

BRODIE WATCHED JENNIFER as she headed into the house. Her shoulders were stiff and her stride too fast.

“That woman is trouble.”

The door shut behind Jennifer, and Brodie glanced at his brother. “That woman is the key to finding out what happened to our parents.”

A few weeks back, they’d finally found the guns used to murder their parents. The weapons had been hidden beneath the floor of an abandoned cabin—an old cabin that was just miles from their ranch. All those years, the murder weapons had been close, practically under their noses, and they’d never realized it.

The guns had proved to be a ballistics match for the crime, but there had been no prints on the weapons. The men who’d broken into their parents’ house that long-ago night—Ava had said that they’d worn black ski masks over their faces.

They didn’t know the identities of the killers, but they would. The McGuires wouldn’t stop until they’d gotten justice.

“You think our parents were killed because of Jennifer?” Davis asked him quietly.

He sucked in a deep breath. “For years, I thought they died because of one of us.” It was a dark truth that had eaten away at him for too long.

Davis backed up a step.

“You, me, Grant, Mac, even Sullivan...we were all working different black-ops missions back then. One right after the other.” Because all the McGuire brothers had left the ranch and went right out and gotten lost in danger. Once, Brodie had craved that rush of adrenaline. As a SEAL, he’d always been walking on the edge of death; he’d known that.

But he’d thought the risk was his alone. Until he’d realized that his enemies could follow him home.

“I thought,” Brodie continued, “someone wanted payback because of what we’d done. That our parents were caught in the cross fire because of us.”

He still believed that. Hell, even if Jennifer’s enemies had tracked her to the ranch house in Austin, wasn’t that still on Brodie’s shoulders? He’d been the tie to Jennifer. His parents’ death—

“I thought the same thing.” Davis’s voice was low. “The guilt never stops, does it? They were always there for us, but when they needed our help, when we could have saved them...”