I screamed, "Stop! You are going to kill him. Stop it!" It was as if he couldn't hear me as he continued pounding his fists against Brian. What was this? Where was that kind and gentle guy I had come to care so much for in the last few weeks? I knelt down in front of him and placed my right hand on his face and said softly, "John..."

He froze an angry fist in the air and looked up at me. His eyes were cold and distant, but he came back as I begged him with my eyes to stop. He looked down at Brian in a crumpled heap beneath him and then slowly stood up.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I shoved both of my hands through my hair. I shrunk away from him. I was too overwhelmed by the raging hot anger I saw on his face. I shook my head.

He stepped over Brian and took me by the elbow, moving me a few steps away to safety. The most immediate threat was, well, unconscious on the sidewalk and I wasn't sure if that was such a good thing. John was more dangerous than I had ever anticipated.

He gripped his side with one hand and pinched his eyes shut in pain. His mouth twisted up in an agonized grimace as he sucked in air between his teeth. "I think that fucker cracked a couple of my ribs."

Crossing his arm over his chest, he held his ribs in pain, as if he had been speared in the side like Jesus himself. This was not a good sign but it brought me back to reality. John had just saved both our lives.

"Let's get you home. I'll take care of you. Treat you to a hot bath and a clean bandage."

"We should call the police," John said. He spoke through gritted teeth. "They can arrest that motherfucker and get him out of Emma's life for good."

I nodded but knew it would be the end of me...and any chance of a future with John. I bit my lip and looked down at the ground, contemplating the same old scenario again in my mind. If the cops got involved, my cover would be blown. They would check my ID and connect all the dots to the incident in New York. Find out about my interview at the police station. The money. Everything.

I kicked at a crack in the sidewalk. Damn it, this had gone too far. I shouldn't be so selfish as to think of only my welfare any more. Other people were involved now. How could I have been so stupid? I wasn't supposed to get involved with a man, not one who seemed to wield so much power over my heartstrings, anyway. I was falling for John and the thought of losing him struck panic into my heart. I didn't like to admit it, even to myself. Now more than ever, I wished I could turn back the clock, have a "do over" of that night at the Greymore Hotel. Then I would have never met John and I wouldn't be a threat to his safety now, or to anyone else's.

Tired of all the lies, I was drained and contemplated spilling my guts. But how could I? John would know I had lied to him about everything. My name, where I lived, and my real reason for being here. That I was on the run from some very bad guys who killed people. I couldn't do that. It would tear me apart. He would feel betrayed and hate me for it. I had let my guard down the day I met John and now I was in too deep. I had allowed myself, foolishly, to indulge in the freedom of following my heart. I had allowed myself to fall in love with him.

What good would it do to call the police? Emma had said herself that Brian was protected by someone in the Sheriff's office. Would they even believe us if we reported it? Believe me, connected as I was to a crime in New York?

I made my decision. "Let's just get you home. I think that creep learned his lesson."

Brian moaned and made a feeble attempt to climb to his feet. John walked back over to where he lay and knelt down, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. He pulled him face-to-face and growled, "Now listen up, you dickhead. This better be the last fucking time I see your ugly face. You stay the hell away from me, Hanna, and Emma. You hear? Next time you won't be so lucky."

Brian didn't respond. John pushed him back to the ground and left him. He held his side with one hand again and walked back to where I was standing. Like a wounded soldier in battle, he draped one arm over my shoulder and wrapped the other around his injury. We began the long walk back to John's beach rental at a turtle's pace. I wasn't sure if I wanted to cry or run away from all this crazy drama. The cold look I had seen in John's eyes when he was beating Brian gave me pause, and the way he had moved, the way he delivered those kicks and punches was a sure sign that he had been in many bar fights before. Was this the kind of man I wanted to get involved with? I shoved all negative thoughts aside. John was my bird with a broken wing. I couldn't abandon him now. I was compelled by my emotions to stay and take care of him. My fight or flight instincts told me to run for the hills, but my heart told me to stay.

Chapter Sixteen.

Half an hour later, we arrived back at John's house. I went straight to the bathroom and turned on the hot water faucet in the bathtub. I glanced around the compact area and yelled out over the rush of the water, "Where do you keep your towels?" A hot and steamy bath would help the sore ribs.

John appeared; his tall sturdy body was framed like a picture of a Greek god in the bathroom doorway. Even in pain, he was sexy as hell. Pure temptation in a crisp white shirt, rolled up to the elbow. There were dark smudges right about the rib-cage area where jackass Brian had stomped his dirty boot. How dare he damage my...property? The thought dangled in my mind. My property. But was he really mine? Or more importantly, did I want him to be?

"You're really going to give me a bath?"

"Someone's gotta take care of you."

"M-m-m. I like that that," he said in a low voice. A slow smile crept across his face as he stood still for me while I worked the top button. He swept my hair back from my shoulder, fondling a strand before letting it fall to my back.

I smiled. "You sure attract a lot of trouble." My hands moved down to the second button and I wondered if he could see my eyes pop as the shirt opened enough to reveal the massiveness of his chest muscles. I may have gasped out loud but I didn't care. I swallowed hard and looked up to his deep blue eyes.

"Well, I attracted you. Are you trouble?" he murmured and traced a finger along my jaw, stopping under my chin. He leaned in so close, I could feel the flutter of his breath on my skin. My heart jumped and this time, I was pretty sure I really did gasp out loud with visions of him reclined, soaking in the tub, slick with wetness. A tingle of excitement ran down to my loins.

He hovered nearby, touching my lips, yet waiting, teasing, and watching me quiver. I felt myself melting under his gaze.

"I...I think I am trouble." I choked out the words. The intensity in his look was difficult to take all at once and I felt lightheaded. It was like being in a hot sun. You liked the feel of it but you knew it could burn you if you stayed too long. His charm was like that to me, irresistible and dangerous. He had that magical mysterious pull that defies existence, that kind of allure that a person only finds once in a lifetime. There was also something hidden in those eyes, something wild and feral, but I couldn't tear myself away. I didn't want to.

Just when his lips were about to touch mine, the slosh of the water pierced through the fog in my brain and I remembered...

"The water." I spun around, anticipating it would be overflowing, and twisted the faucet handles to the off position. I had been so distracted by John, I forgot that the tub was still filling.

I turned back to see his satisfied gaze sweep over me. His eyes were sexy and half-hooded as he waited for me to speak.

"What? You liked the view when I bent over?"

He smiled and reached out his arms. He pulled me to him and ran his hands down my back, swirling his palms on my butt cheeks.

"I like what I see."

"You make it difficult to get this shirt off of you." I dropped my eyes under his steady gaze to wrestle with the third button.

"Let me help you," he said. With a fist full of fabric in each hand, he ripped the shirt open, and buttons went flying everywhere, clicking as they hit the porcelain of the sink.

"Well, that's one way to do it," I chuckled and slowly peeled the shirt off his shoulders. Sculpted muscles rippled beneath his tan skin as he flexed to assist me in the removal of his shirt. He still wore the gauze bandage wrapped around his chest from his motorcycle accident. I reached out and placed my fingertips on him. I pushed and swirled my hand up, over and around the mass of shoulder tissue. It was magnificent. I stepped behind him, ready to remove the bandage, and circled both arms around his waist. I closed my eyes and laid my cheek on his back, just above the white gauze. I held him tight for a few second, not wanting to let go.

"Did you buy new bandages?"

"I did," he replied and lifted my hands to his lips and kissed the back of them, one at a time. He placed my hands back down around his waist, pressing my palms into his stomach. The top edge of his jeans rubbed against them, and I had to fight the urge to shove my fingers down inside his pants. There would be time for that soon enough.

I sighed and pulled my arms back, ready to remove the dirty bandage that was interrupting my view of this fine specimen of a man. He stood patiently with his back to me as I unwrapped the ribbon of white gauze. Narrow streamers fell to the floor as I peeled off one tightly wrapped layer after another. It was a bit like unwrapping a gift.

"Is it my birthday?" I chuckled and began to peel again. "Or are you really an onion and just didn't know it?"

"A mummy, I think..." he said jokingly as he spoke to me over his shoulder.

As the final layer fell away from his skin, I could see his tattoo continued to his back. "Ah," I said with delight. "What's this? I didn't know your tattoo went all the way around. You know, I like guys with tattoos."

"You'll like this one. I had it done in Japan four years ago."

"You have been to Japan? I'm impressed."

As the final layer fell to the floor, I took a step closer to get a better view of his tattoo. What the fuck? I had seen this before. Slowly, it hit me as my memory dredged up the image of a muscular man lying on a bench getting a massage. That night at the fight in New York when I went to find a restroom I had seen it. It was the exact same tattoo.

"Do you like it?"

There was silence. He turned his head to the side and when I didn't answer, he turned around completely to face me, puzzled by the abrupt change in the mood.

He stared at me, baffled. I couldn't speak; my mind was spinning.

"What's wrong? It's just a tattoo. No big deal." But his words didn't register on my dizzied mind as I struggled to force some order on my confused emotions.

When I regained the ability to speak, my words were loaded with venom. "Who the fuck are you...John?"

His expression clouded with bewilderment. "What's the matter? What do you mean?"

I slammed him hard with both palms on his chest and repeated louder, "Who the fuck are you? I know your goddamn name is not John. I recognize that tattoo. It's the exact same tattoo I saw on this boxer guy. In the exact same spot." I paused for a second to catch my breath and make sense of the millions of thoughts that came crashing into my head.

I stepped back and ran both of my hands through my hair. I blew out a breath and in a lowered voice asked, "Is your name Luke?"

He paled and lowered his head with a sigh.

"Is your name Luke 'Renegade' Romero, MMA fighter?

"I figured this conversation would have to come up sooner or later...Dani."

Holy shit. Fuck me sideways. My mouth dropped open and my body stiffened. It felt as if the world came crashing down, hard. I couldn't breathe and my voice was shaky as I stuttered, "You know my name is Dani? How?"

He reached for me, his open palms up, pleading with me, "Dani, it's not what you think..."

I swatted his hands away, disgusted. "Don't touch me." I shrunk back from him. "It's not what I think? What the hell."

He reached out a hand again and I jerked back. "Don't you dare tell me what I think!" I grabbed at whatever I could find on the countertop and started throwing. "You're a liar!" I grabbed a bottle of mouthwash and tossed it. "A fucking liar!" I launched the toothpaste through the air. "And a fraud, that's what I think." I hurled a bar of soap at him as I worked my way backward to the door. My pulse was racing and I wanted to tear my hair out and scream. I had been used, deceived, and fucking lied to all this time.

He put up his arms, blocking all of my projectiles, and managed to dodge all of my attempts to hit him. I spun on my heel and ran into the living room.

"Dani, wait...just hear me out."

He shrugged on his rumpled shirt and followed me out. "I was going to tell you. I didn't want to hurt you."

I turned to face him, still raging. "I trusted you. I opened myself up to you and this is what you do with my trust? " My face was beet red and I couldn't contain my energy. I wanted to throw more stuff at him. I wanted to hurt him back. I wanted him to feel the same pain that was tearing at my heart right now.

"Calm down, Dani, please, let me explain..."

"Calm down? I will not. I will not!" I stomped my foot. "You just dropped a bomb on me of nuclear proportions and you want me to calm down so you can give me another bunch of your bullshit? Oh, I don't think so, buddy." I was flailing my hands as I ranted.

He caught my wildly flailing arms and held me still. Looking into my eyes he said, "Dani, listen, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. Look at me. Look in my eyes when I say it. I never meant to hurt you. I had a job to do but I never knew I would come to...care for you like I do."

My breathing was slower now. His hands on my arms felt warm and they did calm me, surprisingly. He had that way with me. It made me flinch in resistance but that was only for a second, then his magic set in and I relaxed.

"Are you done throwing things?" He dipped his head and looked into my eyes.

"Yes," I sighed.

"You sure?"

"Yes, you can let me go."

"Okay, then." He let me loose and stepped back with an exhalation. "Here goes..." He touched his finger to his temple and squinted his eye shut, as if he was anticipating a blow. "Well, I've...I've known all along. I also know you're not from Boston. You live in Brooklyn, New York." He rubbed the heels of his hands over his face and looked down at me. "You've lied to me too."

He was right. I had lied. But he knew I was lying all the time and played me, pretending to be someone else. Made me fall for him. I may have been lying but I was just covering my ass. "Maybe so, but I didn't pretend to like you and deceive you. I didn't play with your emotions like you did mine."

He looked straight in my eyes and spoke with quiet but desperate firmness. "Listen to me, Dani. I never pretended anything. My feelings for you are real. Yes, in the beginning my objective was to retrieve the money you took. But I don't give a shit about that now. I care about you. I didn't mean for things to happen like this. I wasn't trying to play with your emotions or feelings, but how could I tell you that I knew your secret without scaring you away?"

Surprise siphoned the blood from my face. "You knew about the money?"

He nodded. "I know everything but it doesn't matter now."

I was confused and even more uncertain than ever. Who was this man and how did he know all this? "Like hell it doesn't matter! Just exactly how are you involved in all this?"

"Dani..." He gently took me by the arms and squared me in front of him. "I've fallen for you."

I bit the inside of my mouth hard, determined not to let him see my delight at hearing this. But my relief altered instantly into suspicion as he continued. "In truth, the only reason I followed you here, the only reason I tried to recover the money, was because I had messed up and owed it to my promoter, Bruno Costello."

"Your promoter? Is he the guy the money belongs to?"

"Well, technically, it isn't his money anymore. He lost it in a bet. He bet two hundred fifty thousand dollars that I would lose a match. Then he made sure to improve his odds of winning the bet by making a deal with me. He would pay me fifty thousand if I'd take a dive. I accepted the deal but in the ring, my opponent went berserk. I don't know why Bruno didn't clue the shithead in on the deal. It was his fighter and he should've told him, 'put on a good show for the crowd, just don't cause any permanent damage.' That's usually how this kind of scam works."

"So how did it end?"

"This guy was set on not only causing permanent damage, but he literally wanted to kill me." He shrugged. "I had to fight back. What else could I do? The shithead had me backed into a corner. So I fought back and won the match on a knockout. Bruno lost his two hundred and fifty thousand dollars and was not exactly happy about that. After the match, he threatened me. Told me I had to get the money back or I'd never fight again. He'd make sure of that."

"Couldn't you just find another promoter?" I asked.

"I wish, but I've been banned from fighting in the official MMA tournaments. I can only fight in the underground matches in New York, and Bruno Costello controls all those fights."

I wasn't sure I wanted to know, but curiosity got the best of me and I asked the obvious question. "How did you get banned?"

"A stupid mistake." He sighed. "It has to do with the rules of the league. If an MMA fighter gets caught fighting outside the ring, he's banned for life. But that's a story for another day. Let's just say it wasn't pretty."

A flicker of apprehension crept into his expression and he hesitated before he spoke. I still didn't know what to make of all this. When he said he had fallen for me, my heart sprang to life, but how would I even know if that was true after all these deceptions? From the look in his eyes, the forecast looked like thunderstorms with a chance of more bad news. What kind of a relationship would we have if there was no trust between us? There certainly was none now. Surely, it had vanished and now it was merely a ghost in the room. I wasn't sure I could stand to hear more, but a quick and disturbing thought pushed the words out of my mouth. "When I came to Summerville on the bus, you were already here. How is that possible?"

Lines tensed on his face and he wiped his face with his hands. He bit his lower lip and looked up at the ceiling, as looking for God or anyone to forgive him. When he finally looked at me, he spoke in a dejected tone of voice. "I followed you here."

My stomach knotted with a crazy mixture of fear and, strangely enough, excitement. Fear, because this guy could be dangerous, and excitement, because if he hadn't followed me, we never would have met. I blinked and looked at him in disbelief. I raised my fingertips to my temples and paced the kitchen floor. "How is that even possible? I never saw you."

"After the fight, I found out where the bookie would be and saw that he'd picked up a hooker...Franco pretty much always did that after a big win, so I followed him and the hooker to the hotel. I knew he had the money in that briefcase of his, so I waited outside the hotel for him to finish his business. I'd figured I'd grab it when he was alone. When I saw the hooker come storming out of the hotel, I knew something was up. I tried to get in the front entrance, but it was locked. I knocked but there was no one behind the desk."

I looked down and flushed, ashamed. I was too busy taking the money. I was supposed to be the one behind that desk, opening the door for guests.

"A few minutes later, I saw the ambulance and cops arrive, so I hid on the other side of the street. I figured the money would still be with Franco, since the hooker had left empty-handed. But when they carried out Franco, and no one had the briefcase with them, I figured it was still in the hotel.

"I looked through the glass door and saw you behind the desk. I didn't know what to think. Did you take the money or what? I waited for hours and when your shift was over, I followed you to your place. I waited all day outside your apartment, when I finally saw the police car that came to pick you up. I followed along on my bike, making sure he couldn't spot me. I waited outside the station and followed you again. Later, when I saw you get on the bus to Charleston with your big suitcase, I knew you had the money. Why else would you leave town? I checked the bus schedule and saw that there was a layover for lunch in Summerville on the schedule. Figured I would make contact with you there."

"Wait-but what if I had decided to get off before Summerville?"

"I followed the bus to make sure you didn't get off."