Extreme Measures (2 page)

“Actually, we don’t, and I have the papers to prove we don’t have to say one more thing to each other.”
Please just go away.
Just his presence brought back painful reminders of a past she had been working hard to forget about.

Peeling the Ray-ban sunglasses from his face, Matt fixed her with chocolate brown eyes that always seemed to see right through to her soul. “Why don’t we start with coffee?”

Erin ran her hands down the front of her stained apron. Her spine tingled as she rounded the counter and poured a cup of the flavorful brew into a heavy red mug. She kept it black, just the way Matt always drank it. And it bothered her that she remembered that small detail. In truth, there wasn’t much she’d forgotten about her ex-husband.

Hands shaking, she slid the mug across the counter then leaned in to whisper. “Whatever this is about, can’t it wait until I close the shop? I don’t need my customers wondering who you are and starting to ask questions.”

Lean fingers curved around the handle of the mug and brought the steaming liquid to his lips. “You mean you haven’t told them you’re divorced.” He took a sip and sighed. “You always did make good coffee.” He slid onto the last stool at the counter, making himself comfortable. “Nice place you got here.” Another sip followed the first.

For a long moment, Erin couldn’t take her eyes off the sight of those firm, sensual lips curled over the edge of the mug. She remembered them as well…too well. Especially the taste of them. Blood rushed to her face, and she gripped the edge of the counter. Thankfully, Jerry cleared his throat again and brought her back into focus.

“Do I have to get my own coffee, Erin?” He complained with a good-natured grin.

“You’re drinking that stuff like it’s about to be rationed.” She didn’t know how she managed to tease Jerry, when she could feel Matt’s eyes on her spine as she walked. Every nerve in her body jangled like it had been touched with a live wire. Matt could always do that to her. He only had to walk in the same room with her to claim her focus.

Jerry continued to grumble about being kept waiting and tried to engage her in conversation, but Matt had her complete attention.

Flicking a glance over her shoulder, she caught his eyes, and her breath snagged in her throat. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a day-old shadow on his face presented the image she carried around with her, the intangible picture of the man she’d promised to love until death parted them. The minister hadn’t specified whose death would separate them.

She lifted her gaze and caught him watching her. It made her nervous enough to drop the coffee carafe. Hot liquid spilled across the toes of her sneakers and soaked the front of her jeans. With a low curse, she leaped back from the mess as Jerry came to his feet to lean over the counter.

“What in the hell did you do that for?” he barked.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” she snapped back, more jittery than she had been in a long time. She looked up, and Matt had disappeared. But she hadn’t heard the jingle of the door. Where had he gone?

Before she could look, he reappeared, kneeling in front of her, a towel in his hand as he mopped up the sodden mess on the floor. “Did you burn yourself?”

When had he come around behind the counter? Heart settling in the pit of her stomach, she found her voice. “Customers aren’t supposed to be behind the counter.” It was all she could think of to say, though the words held no recriminations. Her hands shook, providing very little assistance with cleaning up the mess.

Matt draped his hands across his knees and looked up at her. “This can’t wait, Erin. We need to talk, and I’m not going away until we do.”

That voice and the inflection in his tone sent chills racing down her spine, but it was his eyes which told her whatever he had to say, she didn’t want to hear. She leaped up and yanked at the knot in her apron, but it wouldn’t loosen. “As I said, customers aren’t allowed behind the counter.”

She tried to brush past him, but his hands curled around her upper arm. “Did you not just hear me? I’m not leaving.” His voice had hardened, sending her heart careening to her stomach. There was no mistaking the determination in his eyes. Nothing she could say would send him away.

Erin had to get away from him, out from behind the counter before every customer in the shop zeroed in on her nervousness. “Whatever brought you here can wait until after I close. Although, I can’t imagine what it could be since we said all there was to say four years ago.” In an impersonal conference room with only the two of them and her attorney present.

Matt hadn’t fought the divorce even though he hadn’t wanted it. But she’d seen the relief in his eyes when he’d signed the final paperwork. He didn’t initiate the divorce, but he had been just as glad as she had that the fighting had ceased.

“This has nothing to do with our divorce,” Matt’s snap yanked her away from the memories. He looked over his shoulder as though expecting someone to be there.

“Well, whatever it has to do with is going to have to wait, preferably for another four years.” She lowered her voice, desperately trying to quell the fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach.

He slid his hand down to hers. “If it could, do you really think I’d be here?” He bit out the question.

Their gazes clashed, and she recognized the light of battle in his eyes. “Why did you have to come here?”

“The agency sent me.”

Pulling away, Erin took a step back away from him, her arms wrapping around her waist in a clear defense mechanism.

“Is this man bothering you, Erin?” Jerry slid off the stool and clamped his hands on his hips. Less than an inch taller than she was, he didn’t present much of a challenge even if she wanted him to intervene on her behalf.

So Erin waved him away. “No, I can handle this.”

“Well, you just let me know. I’m right here.”

Matt shot him a glance, no doubt assessing the potential for a threat. He just as easily dismissed him. “Erin. Please.”

She glanced at her watch then the door, wondered if he could catch her if she made a mad dash for the exit. Probably. Matt always kept himself in good shape, and it didn’t look like he’d let himself go at all.

“Just tell me what this is about so I can get back to work.”

“Here?” The frown marring his brow intensified.

“I’m not going anywhere else with you, and you’re not leaving. So what choice do we have?”

She recognized the moment his patience snapped and wished she’d stayed silent, given him the time he’d need in private. But it was too late. She’d thrown down the gauntlet, and Matt never walked away from a challenge.

“Fine, but remember this was your choice.”

Erin had a brief moment to regret her hasty decision before Matt continued.

“I’m here about Stuart.”

The name brought the familiar taste of fear, and Erin’s gaze flickered. Heart racing, she looked down at her hands and noticed she’d torn her thumbnail without even feeling the pain. “I’m not interested in hearing anything else.” She’d given Stuart too much of her past, and since her move back to Charleston, she’d done everything humanely possible to make sure he wasn’t part of her future.

Every notice she’d received from the Department of Corrections, she’d trashed. Before she’d left New York, she’d refused to take his calls or accept his letters. Long after she’d moved, she’d received forwarded mail. It had taken him two years to finally leave her alone. The last thing she wanted was to open that door again.

Erin straightened and adjusted her apron again. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the stockroom.”

Praying Matt wouldn’t follow but knowing he would, she spun on her heel and hurried toward the back of the coffee shop. What could be so important about Stuart that the FBI would send her ex-husband after her? Her brother had a life sentence without parole, had been damned lucky he hadn’t gotten the death penalty. What else was there to talk about?

“Damnit, Erin.” Matt’s voice boomed behind her.

“Whatever it is about Stuart that’s brought you here doesn’t concern me. Any relationship I had with my brother died the night he killed my parents.” Injecting enough ice in her voice to freeze the sands of the Mojave Desert, Erin pretended to take stock of the rows of boxes.

Behind her, the door closed seconds before the overhead light came on. She didn’t turn around, but that didn’t seem to deter her determined ex-husband.

“Really? Is that why you pushed me to help him get into drug rehab, wanted me to talk to the District Attorney about a lesser sentence?”

She whirled, her temper spiking. “I’d just lost all the family I had, Matt. Forgive me for not wanting to lose my brother, too.”

“You had more family. You had me.”

“And you were always there for me, right? Right up to the time you slapped the handcuffs on Stuart.”

“He came to our home and confessed to a crime. What did you want me to do? Let him go?”

She held up one hand, the memories too much. “We don’t need to go over this again, Matt. It’s done. I haven’t seen Stuart since the trial.”

“That might change if he has anything to say about it.” Matt walked closer. “Stuart escaped.”

One hand clutched the edge of a metal shelf as her vision swam. “Escaped? From Attica?” She barely managed to croak out the words, and the strange buzzing sound in her ears had her pressing her spine against the wall for support.

“Yeah, escaped. Less than twenty-four hours ago. The agency believes he’s coming here.”

“He doesn’t know where I am. He’d have no reason to come here.”

“Erin,” Matt talked to her as though speaking to a frightened child. “Stuart found a way out of a maximum security prison. Do you really think he couldn’t find you if he wanted?”

The taste of fear settled in her mouth, and she looked away from the concern on her ex-husband’s face. This couldn’t be happening. “Why would he come after me, though? Being out of prison, wouldn’t he just want to get as far as he could from the law?”

A strong hand curled around her upper arm and brought her whipping around. “Are you even listening to yourself? He butchered your parents, and you expect him to think rationally?”

She tried to shake his hand away, but Matt held fast. “Have you forgotten that he was on meth that night?”

Matt gave a curt laugh. “Unbelievable. All these years, and you still think that’s the only reason he destroyed your family.” He shook his head. “I would have thought by now you would have realized that Stuart is a psychopath.”

Erin didn’t trust Stuart any farther than she could throw him, but psychopath was taking it a bit too far. They’d had the same parents, the same childhood. She would have known if he’d been abnormal. No, the drugs had been calling the shots that night. Not Stuart.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. The drugs were controlling him. I saw how he broke down at the trial, how knowing what he did changed him. You don’t know how sick it made him when the prosecution showed the autopsy photos. That changed Stuart inside.”

“Didn’t change him enough to stop him from killing again.” Matt forged on before she could respond. “You probably haven’t been paying much attention to what’s been going on with your brother since he went to prison, have you? Didn’t bother to read any of the letters the New York Department of Justice sent you, either. Well, let me clue you in. Why do you think he got moved to Attica? It’s not exactly a place for men who like to knit.”

“I never said Stuart was perfect, and I’m sure prison has hardened him. It’s survival of the fittest in there.”

“You think prison made him into the monster he is?”

“I don’t know what to think.” Erin didn’t even know why she was trying to understand Stuart. He certainly hadn’t given a damn about her or her family when he’d started taking the drugs, when he’d lied, cheated, and stolen to get money to support his habit, even knowing what those actions did to the people who loved him. And he certainly hadn’t given a damn when he’d refused to accept the plea bargain the DA offered, in effect, forcing her to testify against him.

“Well, try this. Stuart might have been on meth the night he killed your parents, but he’s killed since then, each time more gruesome than the time before. Should we blame the meth for those deaths, too?”

Matt always did know how to twist words around. And to shake the ground beneath her feet. “Go to hell.” She finally managed to fight her way free from the apron. “Now, why don’t you tell me why you’re really here? I doubt the FBI sent you to make sure I knew about my brother’s escape, so the truth, as briefly as possible, would be greatly appreciated. I have a business to run.”

Matt’s eyes glittered, giving him a menacing look she’d seen before. It usually signaled an argument he had no intention of losing. “Whether or not you want to believe it, Stuart’s going to come looking for you.”

The words sent a cold chill down her spine, but she’d never let him see it. Her palms began to sweat, and nausea welled up in her stomach—a familiar feeling whenever she thought about Stuart.

The last time she’d seen him had been the day he’d been escorted from the court room after his sentencing hearing. His lawyer had contacted her and asked her to speak on Stuart’s behalf. She’d refused. Could that be why Stuart might be looking for her? Had he harbored a grudge because she wouldn’t attest to his character?

“Whatever’s going on in that head of yours, let me ask you one thing. Are you willing to bet your life that you know your brother better than the system now?”

“He’ll be wasting his time if he comes here. I won’t see him even if he does manage to find me.” Determination brought her chin up a notch, but her hands trembled. “I guess I should say thanks for the heads-up. At least now I can be on the lookout
for him.” And she’d do that with her dad’s old pistol right beside her. It had been a while since she’d shot it, but it could still do the job if necessary.

“Actually, I’ll be on the lookout for him.” Matt fastened a lower button on his suit coat. “I’ll also be your shadow. So I hope you have a guest room.”

Erin’s mouth worked while her brain tried to formulate the proper response. The idea of Matt in the same house with her caused her to practically hyperventilate. “You’re not-—there’s no way in hell you’re staying with me.”