Unnamed

ALSO BY MELINDA LEIGH SCARLET FALLS NOVELS Hour of Need Minutes to Kill Seconds to Live SHE CAN SERIES She Can Run She Can Tell She Can Scream She Can Hide He Can Fall (A Short Story) She Can Kill MIDNIGHT NOVELS Midnight Exposure Midnight Sacrifice Midnight Betrayal Midnight Obsession THE ROGUE SERIES NOVELLAS Gone to Her Grave (Rogue River) Walking on Her Grave (Rogue River) Tracks of Her Tears (Rogue Winter) Burned by Her Devotion (Rogue Vows)

ALSO BY MELINDA LEIGH

SCARLET FALLS NOVELS

Hour of Need

Minutes to Kill

Seconds to Live

SHE CAN SERIES

She Can Run

She Can Tell

She Can Scream

She Can Hide

He Can Fall (A Short Story)

She Can Kill

MIDNIGHT NOVELS

Midnight Exposure

Midnight Sacrifice

Midnight Betrayal

Midnight Obsession

THE ROGUE SERIES NOVELLAS

Gone to Her Grave (Rogue River)

Walking on Her Grave (Rogue River)

Tracks of Her Tears (Rogue Winter)

Burned by Her Devotion (Rogue Vows)

Unnamed

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Text copyright © 2017 Melinda Leigh All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher. Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle www.apub.com Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates. ISBN-13: 9781503948709 ISBN-10: 1503948706 Cover design by Damonza

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Text copyright © 2017 Melinda Leigh

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle

Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

ISBN-13: 9781503948709

ISBN-10: 1503948706

Cover design by Damonza

For Roxy aka “Rocket Dog.” We rescued each other.

For Roxy aka “Rocket Dog.”

We rescued each other.

Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Chapter Forty-Four Acknowledgments About the Author

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Chapter One Darkness. Tessa had been afraid of it most of her life. For as long as she could remember, she’d gone to bed dreading nightfall, looking under the bed, double-checking her nightlight. As if a lightbulb the size of a lit match could possibly banish her nightmares. But tonight, she prayed for the blackest of nights. For the moon to stay hidden behind the shifting clouds. For the shadows to make her invisible. The darkness had changed sides. Head spinning, lungs screaming, she ran into its embrace. What had once been her greatest fear could now be her savior. Her miracle. That’s what it was going to take to keep her alive until the sun rose. “Tesssssa.” The voice floated over the forest. “You can’t get away.” Where is he? Evergreen boughs grabbed at her arms and scratched her face as she plunged through the forest like a panicked deer. Her heart beat with the frantic staccato of a prey animal. She slowed, her body protesting the abuse of little-used muscles. She passed the sco

Chapter One

Darkness.

Tessa had been afraid of it most of her life. For as long as she could remember, she’d gone to bed dreading nightfall, looking under the bed, double-checking her nightlight.

As if a lightbulb the size of a lit match could possibly banish her nightmares.

But tonight, she prayed for the blackest of nights. For the moon to stay hidden behind the shifting clouds. For the shadows to make her invisible.

The darkness had changed sides. Head spinning, lungs screaming, she ran into its embrace. What had once been her greatest fear could now be her savior. Her miracle.

That’s what it was going to take to keep her alive until the sun rose.

“Tesssssa.” The voice floated over the forest. “You can’t get away.”

Where is he?

Evergreen boughs grabbed at her arms and scratched her face as she plunged through the forest like a panicked deer. Her heart beat with the frantic staccato of a prey animal. She slowed, her body protesting the abuse of little-used muscles. She passed the scorched carcass of a burned tree. Its blackened branches pointed upward like a charred hand reaching for the sky. She ducked behind the shelter of a towering oak. Bark scraped her back as she pressed against the trunk and listened.

Where did he go?

A mosquito buzzed around her face. To her right, she could hear the sounds of the forest that surrounded Scarlet Lake. The stillness of the night sharpened her senses. Frogs croaked. Crickets chirped. An animal, small and light, scurried through the underbrush nearby. The air was thick with the scents of pine, lake water, and fear.

Not for the first time, she wished she could shrink and disappear into a rabbit hole.

Hoot! An owl landed on an overhead branch.

Tessa startled, a gasp slipping from her lips. She covered her open mouth with a hand. Liquid dripped over her fingers, and when she lowered her hand, it came away wet with tears—and blood. She touched the corner of her mouth, where his fist had split her lip. Other parts of her face and body ached from what he’d done in the clearing before she’d managed to land a kick to his groin.

Then he’d dropped her, and she’d run. Blindly.

The owl took flight, slow flaps of its wings sending it soaring through a break in the canopy. The clouds parted, and moonlight shone through the opening. For a few seconds, the raptor was silhouetted against the inky sky. And then it was gone.

Sliding down the tree trunk, she sat on her heels and huddled.

Despite the coolness of the September night, her lungs burned as if she’d inhaled gas and swallowed a flame. She panted; the sound echoed in her ears and seemed loud enough to carry a mile through the trees.

Quiet!

He was going to hear. She was out of shape, and her mad sprint had taxed her lungs. She hadn’t gotten far. He had to be close.

“Tesssssa.”

The drumming of her heartbeat muffled his voice. She couldn’t tell which direction it was coming from.

She pressed her lips together, but her lungs demanded more air. Red rimmed her vision as dizziness enveloped her. Opening her mouth, she kept her breaths shallow, hoping, praying her ragged gasps weren’t as loud as they sounded echoing in her own ears.

Minutes passed.

Nothing happened.

Maybe he’d gone in the other direction.

Her breathing eased. Her legs began to tremble from the cramped position. She’d partied in the clearing countless times. But everything looked the same in the dark.

She’d lost track of her location.

She glanced around the trunk. Twenty feet ahead, moonlight cast a trail in silvery shadows. Was that the path that led to the main road? Beyond the narrow break in the foliage, the trees closed in, and darkness smothered the forest.

Sweat ran down her spine and pooled at her lower back, soaking the waistband of her jeans. She squinted. What choice did she have? She couldn’t stay here long.

He’d catch up with her.

He’d kill her.

But in order to run, she’d have to come out from behind the tree.

Where is he?

No matter. She had to keep moving. If he hadn’t caught her yet, he soon would. There was no way he’d let her go now. Why had she trusted him? Because he’d said he loved her?

Stupid.

He wasn’t capable of love. She’d known it in her head, but her heart had wanted to believe.

And now the truth would kill her.

At the beginning of the evening, she’d considered walking into the cold lake and putting an end to her misery. But now that death was breathing down her neck, terror had taken over. Her survival instinct overrode any fears about her future.

I don’t want to die.

Her last words to her grandparents had been angry. She’d lied to them. If she didn’t make it out of this, that argument would be their final memory of her. They weren’t perfect, but they loved her. Now there’d be no way for her to say she loved them back, that she hadn’t meant what she’d said, that she’d been upset about the mess she’d made of her life and she’d lashed out at them.

She wouldn’t have a chance to say she was sorry.

She had to get away. She had to live. To apologize for hurting the two people who loved her the most. She pushed to her feet. Her thigh muscles shivered, and her head swam. Instead of running all out, she picked her way to the trail. With no idea where he was, the less noise she made the better. If she didn’t know where she was, maybe he didn’t either.

Underbrush snatched at her bare legs as she stepped onto the path and eased into a slow jog. The packed dirt under her sneakers felt familiar. She rounded a bend and quickened her pace. A twig snapped, and she bolted like a rabbit. A cloud drifted in front of the moon, dropping a shadow across her path. Tessa’s foot caught, and she fell. Pain zinged through her kneecap as it struck an exposed tree root. On hands and knees, she paused, catching her breath and swallowing the terror that clogged her throat. Tears ran down her cheeks.

Keep going!

She got one foot under her body and stood. Forcing her shaky legs to move, she stumbled up the path and drew up short as she recognized the scorched tree. She’d run in a circle. She stumbled as she realized she was headed back toward the clearing.

Toward him.

The rustle of dead leaves echoed, loud as a crack of thunder.

Please. Please, don’t let him catch me.

Tears blurred her vision. Swiping a hand across her face, she cleared her eyes, then broke into a weak run.

A shadow stepped out from behind a fat tree. She skidded to a stop, the worn soles of her canvas high-tops sliding in the dirt.

Her bones trembled as she stared up at him. He wasn’t panting or sweating or the slightest bit out of breath.

And she knew. The truth struck her like an open hand against her cheek.

She was going to die.

Panic wrapped around her neck and tightened its grip until breathing was as hard as sucking air through a straw.

“Did you really think you could get away?” He shook his head.

She turned and ran, blindly shoving at the branches in her way. She couldn’t outrun him. She was tired, and he was fresh. Her breaths dragged in and out of her lungs in ragged gasps. Behind her, his footfalls were even and sure.

She burst from the woods. The lake glimmered in front of her. At the edge of the dark water, a thick patch of cattails waved in the breeze. The ground was soggy underfoot as she bolted into the thick stalks. One thought dominated her brain:

Hide!

The wet ground pulled at the soles of her sneakers, the squishing sound betraying her. A hand shot out and grabbed her bicep. He dragged her toward him.

“No.” She pulled back, dropping her butt toward the ground.

But resisting proved as futile as it felt.

She opened her mouth and let out a wild scream.

“Shut up!” He struck out, the movement of his arm quick and sure.

The fist connected with her jaw. She blinked. The cattails around her blurred.

She’d been right all along. The dark was not her friend. It would not save her. It was an abyss from which she’d never emerge. Never again.

This was the end.

She fell to the marshy ground. Above, cattails waved against the night sky. Then a figure was silhouetted. Something metal glinted in the moonlight and pain sliced her into pieces.

The world faded into a cold and dreaded darkness.

Chapter Two He stumbled out of the cattails and stared down at his hands. Blood, slick and dark and oily, covered his gloves and the knife. He turned toward the water and squatted at its edge. Setting the knife on the bank, he stuck the gloves into the shallow water. He rubbed his palms together and washed away as much of the blood as possible. Then he stripped off the gloves and set them aside. Specks of blood dotted his forearms. He scrubbed at them, scooping a handful of mud from the lake bottom and using it as a cleanser. There’d been so much blood. He’d never wash it all off. He glanced back into the reeds. What had he done? Something that couldn’t be undone. His gaze landed on the knife at his side. His stomach turned over at the sight, and he ripped his eyes away. How many times had he stabbed her? He couldn’t remember. Rage had completely short-circuited his brain. The last twenty minutes were a blur. A violent, frenzied blur. He heard screaming, pleading, crying, the sounds of

Chapter Two

He stumbled out of the cattails and stared down at his hands.

Blood, slick and dark and oily, covered his gloves and the knife. He turned toward the water and squatted at its edge. Setting the knife on the bank, he stuck the gloves into the shallow water. He rubbed his palms together and washed away as much of the blood as possible. Then he stripped off the gloves and set them aside. Specks of blood dotted his forearms. He scrubbed at them, scooping a handful of mud from the lake bottom and using it as a cleanser.

There’d been so much blood. He’d never wash it all off.

He glanced back into the reeds. What had he done?

Something that couldn’t be undone.

His gaze landed on the knife at his side. His stomach turned over at the sight, and he ripped his eyes away.

How many times had he stabbed her? He couldn’t remember. Rage had completely short-circuited his brain. The last twenty minutes were a blur.

A violent, frenzied blur.

He heard screaming, pleading, crying, the sounds of pain and fear. He put his hands over his ears, but the sounds were in his head.

Stop it!

The bloody knife glared at him accusingly.

You know what you did.

And he was going to have to live with it. But how?

An idea cut through his panic.

By not getting caught.

He couldn’t go to prison. He’d never survive, and even if he did, his entire life would be over. It wasn’t as if a life sentence for him would bring her back. Nothing could do that.

What am I going to do with the knife? Thanks to TV crime shows, everyone knew that he’d never get all the traces of her blood off it. He needed to get rid of the knife and the gloves. His clothes too. They must have blood on them. He needed to dump everything. But where? How?

He paused and breathed.

Think!

He hadn’t meant to kill her. But rage had taken over. He’d been driven by an animal urge that screamed that she belonged to him.

Even as he thought it, he knew it wasn’t the truth. She wasn’t his. He’d simply taken what he wanted without asking.

But then, he’d always had dark thoughts. He’d fought the darkness inside him most of his life. Hidden it away so no one would see. But she’d broken his control.

Since the first time he’d seen her, he hadn’t been able to think straight.

He pictured her now, her pretty eyes that always seemed to be on him. From the first time they’d met, she’d felt the same rush of attraction for him, even if she hadn’t wanted to admit it. He was sure of it. But she was gone. Her smile would never brighten another of his dark days.

I love you.

I’m sorry.

His heart ached, acutely aware that hers no longer beat. He’d watched the life fade from her eyes, felt her soul leave her body.

Bringing the knife had been his downfall, an impulse decision.

But then, impulses were his real problem, weren’t they?

Self-preservation drove him to his feet. He had work to do. He collected the gloves, now dripping with lake water rather than blood. Putting them on, he picked up the knife by the very end of the handle. He had to hide it.

Somewhere.

But first he had to pay his respects. He had to see her one final time and face the reality of his actions. Only then would he be able to put this night behind him and move forward.

On his way back to the cattails, he picked up a plastic bag from the ground, trash from someone’s takeout dinner. He stuffed the knife inside the bag and rolled it up. He’d figure out what to do with it later.

After he said his final good-bye.

He returned to her. Dropping to his knees, he looked at her face—only her face. He couldn’t think about the extent of his brutality. It was as if for that twenty minutes, someone else had inhabited his body. He couldn’t have done that to her. He loved her.

But love had its dark side, jealousy, possession.

Obsession.

A tear slid down his face at the thought of never seeing her again.

I love you.

I’m sorry.

How am I going to live without you?

Chapter Three Morgan Dane toyed with her steak salad, but the weight of the decision on her mind dampened her appetite. The waitress returned to the table. “Anyone need another drink?” Morgan shook her head. “No, thank you.” She’d had exactly two sips from her glass of house red. Across the table, District Attorney Bryce Walters finished his single glass. “Is something wrong with the wine?” “No. It’s fine. I’m not much of a drinker.” The truth was she had no tolerance for alcohol, and the only thing worse than a kaleidoscope of butterflies flapping in her stomach were stumbling drunk ones. “Well, that’s a good thing.” He smiled, his teeth even and white. She should probably be attracted to him, but she wasn’t, which was for the best. This was not a date. As long as Bryce hadn’t changed his mind about offering her a job since their last meeting, he was going to be her boss, not her boyfriend. He set aside his empty glass and ordered coffee. Morgan declined. The man’s superior genes coul

Chapter Three

Morgan Dane toyed with her steak salad, but the weight of the decision on her mind dampened her appetite.

The waitress returned to the table. “Anyone need another drink?”

Morgan shook her head. “No, thank you.”

She’d had exactly two sips from her glass of house red.

Across the table, District Attorney Bryce Walters finished his single glass. “Is something wrong with the wine?”

“No. It’s fine. I’m not much of a drinker.” The truth was she had no tolerance for alcohol, and the only thing worse than a kaleidoscope of butterflies flapping in her stomach were stumbling drunk ones.

“Well, that’s a good thing.” He smiled, his teeth even and white.

She should probably be attracted to him, but she wasn’t, which was for the best. This was not a date. As long as Bryce hadn’t changed his mind about offering her a job since their last meeting, he was going to be her boss, not her boyfriend.

He set aside his empty glass and ordered coffee. Morgan declined.

The man’s superior genes could not be denied. Tall and lean, he had a tan that suggested manly, outdoorsy pursuits. He balanced being a gentleman and a man’s man. He’d even been gifted with a deep voice that resonated well in large rooms. In the courtroom, Bryce sold guilt like the slickest marketer.

Morgan shifted in her chair, acutely aware of the way her suit nipped in at her waist. Her tailored silk blouse fell in an elegant drape to show the single strand of pearls around her neck but never revealed any hint of cleavage. While some female ADAs strove to downplay their femininity, Morgan had chosen to highlight hers, and she was often underestimated because of it.

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