Remember Ramsey by Cynthia Eden

Chapter Thirteen

Observation notes: I know where he goes. When he thinks that the darkness is getting too strong, Ramsey sneaks away. He comes back with his hands bruised and bloody. He told me he had a violence burning inside of him, but he’s never been violent with me. If anything, he treats me like I might break.

I’ll have to prove to him that I won’t.

***

Cyrus sat back and stared at the screen before him. Recovering Whitney’s files had been child’s play for him. Mostly because the virus that had been used on her system was basic tech. He’d had the little beast gone in moments.

He could have called Ramsey. Told him the news.

But he’d been curious…curiosity had always been one of his weaknesses. So he’d started reading through a few of the recovered files. Perhaps Dr. Whitney Augustine had begun her work at the bar as some sort of field research project, but after a few weeks, that had certainly changed. She still called her entries “observation notes” but they read more like diary entries. And the more time that passed, the deeper her relationship with Ramsey had become.

So deep that she’d discovered his secrets.

Ramsey would not be pleased.

Then again, was the bastard ever pleased?

Time to stop reading. Before he went way too far.

A knock sounded at his door. Considering that he was using an assumed name and he’d taken plenty of ever-so-careful steps to hide his location, the knock had him jerking to attention. No one should be paying a visit to him.

No one.

But…

He hid the laptop and crept toward the door. Peered through the peephole. And swore when he saw the woman standing on the other side.

Imari Caddel. Government agent. His reluctant partner in crime. The woman who should have been very, very far away from him. The woman he was trying to stay far away from. His shoulders straightened as Cyrus opened the door.

She smiled at him.

“How’d you find me?” It was the only thing he could think to say.

“I’m a super spy agent. I can find almost anyone.”

He wasn’t almost anyone. He’d covered his tracks well.

“Or…” Imari amended with a roll of one delicate shoulder. “I was a super spy agent. I recently left my post.”

Shock cut through him. “Why the hell did you do that?”

“Because when you work for people who turn out to be asshole liars, it makes you think you need a life change.” She tucked her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “Also, since I’m no longer a government agent and you’re not the bad guy I’m supposed to track down, I thought this might be a good time to ask…do you want me?”

Holy fuck.

He opened the door wider.

“I hope that’s a yes,” Imari murmured.

***

The limo’s door shut. Ramsey stretched out on the leather seat and kept his eyes locked on Whitney. His hands were clenched into fists—mostly because he was trying not to touch her. She’d kissed him so passionately moments before, and his dick had surged toward her. He wanted in her. Wanted her moaning and arching against him.

But there were things they needed to cover first.

She licked her lips. The limo had lights in the back, a soft glow that came from the floorboard, so he could see her perfectly. The privacy screen was up, and he knew that Jimmy couldn’t see or hear them.

He had Whitney all to himself.

The way I always want her.

“I didn’t kill Ronald.” He thought it was best to get that out of the way first.

“I-I never thought you did.”

“Why the hell not?” The question tore from him. Angry. Rough. He didn’t want to be rough with her, dammit. Not her. Never her.

“Because I trust you.”

She might as well have gutted him. Ramsey sucked in a sharp breath. “Don’t.”

“Don’t?” She moved closer to him. Her dress hiked up.

I want to fuck her.

“Why not?” Whitney pushed. “Are you lying to me?”

“No.”

“Are you planning to hurt me?”

“Fucking never.”

Her hand pressed to the stubble on his cheek. “Do you trust me?”

“I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone.” Truth.

“Then why shouldn’t I trust you?”

Her mouth was close again. He wanted it. She tasted so sweet, and the light scent of raspberries that clung to her was driving him crazy.

“Is it because you’re so bad?” Her fingers stroked him. Teased him. “Because the world thinks you’re a monster?”

“Be…careful,” he gritted out.

“I don’t think I need to be. I may not remember everything we did, but I remember how it feels to be with you.” She licked her lips. “And it feels safe. So don’t tell me I can’t trust you. Instead, tell me why I am right to put my trust in you.”

He did not deserve her. But he would never, ever give her up again. No matter what he had to do.

“Why did you hit a wall?”

His fingers were still fisted. “Because I was furious.”

“At?”

“My damn self. I had just found out about you and the baby. I’d been pushing you away to keep you safe, but all I was doing was putting you at risk. I was so fucking furious with myself that I wanted to pound and pound that wall until my knuckles were bloody.”

Until he could hurt himself…as much as he had unknowingly hurt her.

Screwed up? Yeah. That was him. The social workers hadn’t been completely wrong…

I don’t belong. I don’t fit in. I don’t connect the way other people do.

Except…with her. He’d sworn he belonged to her moments after they’d met. He’d felt the connection in his bones.

She sucked in a sharp breath, and Whitney moved quickly—but not away from him. Not away as if she’d been frightened by what he’d said. Instead, she moved to straddle him. Her knees pressed into the leather on either side of his body. Her dress hiked up. Her hands clasped his shoulders as she balanced herself.

“Sweetheart?”

She kissed him.

Something broke apart inside of Ramsey. He knew this wasn’t the time. He shouldn’t be fucking his Whitney in the back of a limo. He should be showing her every single care in the world. Wining and dining her and treating her like the princess she was.

But he had to take her. Fucking her was as necessary as breathing. His hand snaked between their bodies. He ripped her panties out of his way and touched her warm, wet sex. Wet…but not wet enough. Not yet. He stroked her. Rubbed her clit. Greedily swallowed her quick moans. Strummed her and thrust two fingers into her core.

She rode his fingers. Tightened her sex around him.

And then her hands shoved between their bodies, too. She yanked open his jeans. His cock shoved toward her.

Be careful. It’s her. It’s—

His cock pushed at the entrance of her body. She sank down on him. Took every single bit of his cock into her, and she was so tight that he was sure he’d lost his mind. Tight. Hot. Perfect. His mouth pressed to her neck. He licked and sucked and wanted to mark her so that the whole world would know she belonged to him.

Have to put a ring on her finger. Have to make her mine. Have to have her…always.

She lifted her body up. Eased back down. Her rhythm was slow and careful, and he wanted to slam into her but—

Pregnant. My baby. My Whitney.

Sweat beaded his brow, but his thrusts were controlled. Over and over again, he sank into her until she was twisting and arching and sobbing his name as she pushed faster and faster toward her release.

He kept thrusting. Relentlessly sinking into the heaven that was his and his alone. The paradise he’d gladly kill to possess. Whitney thought he was some misunderstood bad boy? She was wrong… so wrong.

“Ram!”

Her sex squeezed around him. The ripples of her climax stroked over his cock.

He watched the pleasure sweep over her face.

Then he let go. He drove into her once more and his release tore through him.

Yes, Whitney could trust him. He would never, ever hurt her. But the rest of the world? Hell, no, they should never make the mistake of thinking he was anything less than a monster at his core. He would steal, fight, freaking slaughter and burn the world down around any enemies who ever thought to hurt her.

And actually…that was exactly what was on his agenda for the night.

***

“You are not seriously leaving me here.” Whitney glared at Ramsey and tried to ignore the fact that her thighs were still trembling. The climax in the limo had left her more than a little shaken. And wanting so much more…

But they’d reached his beach house. He’d rearranged her clothes, pocketed her torn panties, and taken her in as he carefully held her arm—all gentleman-like. And before the door had even shut behind them, he’d announced his plan to ditch her.

Unacceptable. “No.”

“Yes.” He lifted his eyebrows. “But don’t worry, you won’t be alone…”

And Darius walked out of the kitchen, eating a slice of pizza. “Took you longer to get here than I expected.”

“Watch her. Don’t let her leave your sight.”

Darius inclined his head. “On it.”

So she had a babysitter—okay, fine, correction, she had one very large bodyguard for the night…That had not been on the schedule. “I thought we were going to figure out who killed Rudy by working together.”

Ramsey smiled at her. “Loved it when you told that to the detective.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Also loved the way you stood up for me. That doesn’t happen a lot.” He took a step back.

She grabbed his hand. “It doesn’t happen because you deliberately try to make everyone think you are the biggest, baddest bastard in the world.”

He winked. “That’s because I am.” Ramsey gave her another kiss.

One that had her body humming again. Dammit, was this her pregnancy hormones? Or was she just hyper tuned to Ramsey and always wanted to jump him?

Her grip tightened on him. “If you’re hunting for the man who killed Rudy, I want to be with you!”

He glanced over at Darius. “Go outside, would you? We need a moment.”

Darius took his pizza and headed outside. The door closed quietly behind him. For such a big guy, he could sure move quietly when he wanted.

Ramsey stared down at her. “I’m not hunting tonight.”

“No?”

“No. I don’t intend to go out and look for prey.”

His word choice felt very deliberate to her. “Then what are you doing?”

“Tying up loose ends. Knocking items off my to-do list.”

Like that wasn’t suspicious. At all. “And why can’t I come with you?”

He pulled his hand from her grip—and put his fingers tenderly over her stomach. “Because I go to dangerous places.”

Damn him. “I thought I was safe with you.”

“You are.”

“Ramsey…”

“I’ll be back before you can miss me.”

Doubtful. She’d missed him when she hadn’t even known who he was.

He let her go. Turned away. Stopped. “Am I supposed to apologize?”

“For ditching me? Uh, yes, absolutely—”

He glanced over his shoulder. “For fucking you in the car.”

“Oh. That.”

A nod. “Yes. That.”

“I wanted to be fucked in the car, so I don’t think an apology is necessary.” Her hands twisted in front of her.

“I want to fuck you everywhere, but I’ll try to keep better control.”

She considered the matter. “Am I supposed to make the same promise? To keep control?”

His gaze sharpened.

“Because I don’t think I can. When it comes to you, my normal self-control seems to evaporate.”

A slow half-smile curved his lips. “Good.”

Good?

“Because you can absolutely, one hundred percent…fuck me anytime you want.”

***

Ramsey pulled the door shut as he stepped onto the porch. Darius stood in the shadows, a big, hulking form.

“You finish up that private chat?” Darius asked, all casual-like.

She’d been blushing beautifully when he left. “I did.”

“And did the doc agree to stay here while you go off tonight?”

He thought about it…and realized she hadn’t. Hell. “Don’t let her leave your sight.”

“Already told you, I’m on it.”

Ramsey grunted as he marched forward.

But Darius stepped out of the shadows. “You know what the hell you’re doing?”

“Don’t I always?”

“No, hell, no, you don’t. But somehow, things usually work out because you get lucky.”

“That’s just insulting. Luck has nothing to do with it.” Jinx was the one who believed in luck, not him. Ramsey tended to rely more on brute strength and an inability to give up even when he was bloody and broken. He’d learned early on that showing weakness was a fatal flaw…

But I still tipped my hand with Whitney.

That was why he had to take care of this business tonight. “You arranged things as I ordered?”

“The fighter was already on the list for tonight.”

“Excellent. And his competitor?”

“He’ll make sure not to show. You can step in.” Darius crossed his massive arms over his chest. “Why don’t you just let me handle this for you?”

“Because there are some jobs that a man likes to do himself.” And taking care of this job was a high priority.

Detective Melissa Wright could search for Ronald’s killer. She could collect her evidence and follow through with her whole due-diligence routine.

But Ramsey didn’t have to hunt. He knew exactly where his target would be…

There were several important things Ramsey knew about the man he was after.

Point one…the bastard had arranged for the rose deliveries from Ramsey’s bar—that meant the jerk was someone Ramsey had seen before. Someone in his world.

Point two…the prick was a pro at hot-wiring rides and getting past security.

Point three…he was a pyro. One who had used an old school Molotov cocktail on Whitney’s house. Using that particular method was a clear signature.

Then, of course, there was the final point. The nail in the man’s coffin.

Point four…

Ramsey had gone to Ronald Rudolph’s house. The door had been open, and, yeah, he’d let himself inside. He’d seen Ronald’s body. Had noticed all the tell-tale breaks. He’d seen exactly where the killer had focused his attack. Again, talk about a clear signature.

When he put all the stuff he knew together, Ramsey had come up with one man in particular who matched up with that—well, Whitney would have called it a profile.

He had learned a few things from her when she’d been doing her “research” at his place so long ago. He’d made a profile of the man he wanted to find. And now he knew exactly who matched up with this deadly skill set…

So it was time for Ramsey to have a meeting with him. Only this wasn’t going to be some polite, sit-down chat. No, that wasn’t the way things worked in Ramsey’s world.

When you struck out at him…

Ramsey struck back, harder.

That was exactly what he intended to do that night.