Simon Says Die

talk to me. Let me help you.”
    His use of her nickname in that low, intimate tone nearly made her knees buckle. But instead of stepping into his arms as her traitorous body wanted, she pushed past him, bracing herself against the tingle of awareness that shot through her when his chest brushed against hers.
    This time he didn’t try to stop her. She yanked the door open and stepped outside the office, only to stop short when she saw who was standing a few feet in front of her.
    If it weren’t for the long, red hair, Madison might not have recognized Pierce’s fiancée. In contrast to her sex-kitten look last night, Tessa was all business today in a charcoal gray suit, with a conservative skirt that hung past her knees, and sensible flat shoes. An FBI badge clipped to her jacket proclaimed her as Special Agent Tessa James. She and Pierce worked together.
    How cozy.
    Tessa grinned sheepishly and stepped forward with her hand out. “Mrs. McKinley, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth last night. We had to wait until the case we’ve been working on was resolved. I couldn’t risk blowing our cover.”
    Madison made no move to shake the other woman’s hand. “Cover?”
    Tessa lowered her hand and her brow wrinkled in confusion. “We’ve been working a case. The engagement was fake.” She glanced past Madison. “You didn’t tell her?”
    Madison slowly turned around. Pierce was leaning against the office doorway, his hands shoved in his pants pockets.
    Heat crept up Madison’s neck. She felt like a fool, the only one not in on an inside joke. Now all of those men’s clothes in the guest bedroom made sense. And she couldn’t even be mad at Pierce. He’d tried to talk to her about his fiancée several times this morning. Each time he brought the subject up, she’d shut him down, refusing to listen. He must have been trying to tell her the truth.
    Part of her was thrilled that he wasn’t really engaged. But that part was overshadowed by the part of her that felt like a total, complete idiot.
    â€œI’m sure I can find my own way out.” She shoved past “pretty face” and hurried through the long row of cubicles.
    By the time she made her way out of the building onto the sidewalk, her embarrassment had settled into a cold, hard knot of resentment in her stomach.
    She closed her eyes and leaned back against the brick wall, taking deep breaths as she struggled for control. Control . That’s what she needed to do, control this crazy situation instead of allowing others to control her.
    All her life she’d been the baby, sheltered, protected. Her mother, father, and even Logan had smothered her with good intentions. They’d made decisions for her until she wanted to scream. When she’d met Damon, her family didn’t approve of him, which made him more appealing to her. She’d decided it was time to take a stand, to make her own choices.
    So she’d chosen Damon.
    You’ve been a very bad girl.
    She held her hands over her ears to block out the memory of Damon’s voice. A whimper escaped between her clenched teeth.
    â€œMiss, are you okay?”
    Her eyes flew open. She forced her hands down and drew in deep, gulping breaths. A businessman holding a briefcase stood on the sidewalk in front of her, a look of concern on his face. His gray suit made her think of the agents inside the FBI building, which had her anger surging all over again.
    â€œI’m fine. Thank you.” At his doubtful look, she said, “Headache. I just need to . . . get some water, and take something for it.” She hurried down to the corner onto the next street, leaving the stranger behind.
    You shouldn’t have snooped. Curiosity can get you in trouble. Remember that.
    No!
    She clutched her hands to her chest and forced her feet to keep moving. All these months she’d convinced herself Damon was dead. She’d been in denial, assuming the autopsy report was wrong, that sloppy police work had missed the bullet in his burned-out corpse.
    The bullet she’d put in him.
    But now she knew better. Someone else had died in that car crash. Damon had killed another man and faked his own death. Now he was in Savannah, watching her. Why? What did he want? Money? Revenge?
    Tears stung her eyes. She’d finally seen the evil inside him, but it had been too late. Far too late.
    An image