Sweetest Taboo (SIN 3)

A wild fury rises inside me, culminating in the explosion of a single word--"Don't." I draw in a breath, forcing myself back to some level of calm. "Don't say that. And don't you dare say his name again. You gave up that privilege seventeen years ago."

"What are they going to do to me? What are you going to let them do to me?"

"I don't know," I say, then deliberately turn my back on him and step toward the door. "Honestly, I really don't care."

"Don't do it, man."

Dallas took his eyes off Jane long enough to glance sideways at Liam. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't put your fist through the glass. It's a bitch to replace."

Dallas's mouth quirked in an ironic smile. "I'll keep that in mind," he said as Jane paused in front of the door, listening as Colin said he loved her. That he loved Dallas.

Fucker.

"She did well." Quince leaned against the wall at the edge of the window.

"You believe him?" Liam asked, the incredulity clear in his voice.

"Not a word," Quince said, then immediately corrected himself. "Well, one or two words. He did go to London, and he definitely knew Ortega. He may even genuinely love you and Jane," he added, with an eye toward Dallas. "At least in his own twisted way. But the rest of it? Utter fabrication."

"Can you get him to admit it?"

Quince lifted a shoulder. "Yesterday, I would have said absolutely. Today, I say probably."

"Why? I thought he was susceptible to the drugs."

"He is. Possibly a little too susceptible. The standard dose completely narced him up. Cross a line, and all you get is nonsense. Truth, fantasy, remembered bits of bad television shows. He talks, sure, but it's like he's dictating a wild dream after a long night of drinking tequila. Can't put much stock in that, mate."

Dallas nodded. "All right. So you play with the dose. More time, but event

ually you get there."

"That's the plan," Quince said. "And as for the bit about the Woman being dead, I'm going to hook him up to a polygraph, but I need to wait at least forty-eight hours for the drugs to fully clear his system. If he's the lying asshole we think he is, that supports the theory that Jane's attacker was the Woman. If he's telling the truth, well, that's something we'll have to factor in."

"Do it as soon as you can," Dallas said, as they watched Jane turn back to the door, pull it open, and step outside to join the men.

Dallas was at her side even before the door clicked closed behind her.

She looked up at him, her expression hard. Visibly, she was keeping it together. But he could see the cracks. Her red-rimmed eyes. The tension in her jaw and shoulders. With the notable exception of his ruined shoes, she'd handled everything that had been thrown at her with remarkable aplomb.

But even a woman as incredible as Jane couldn't keep absorbing the blows. And he was afraid that if she kept taking hits, she was going to shatter.

"He says it wasn't his idea," she said. "He says the Woman is dead."

The words seemed to stab him through the heart. "I know. I heard. Do you believe him?"

Her throat moved as she swallowed and tears spilled from her eyes, cutting tracks through her makeup. "Not a goddamn word." She gasped a little, and then, as if the words broke through a dam, her tears came in earnest. He pulled her close, holding her against him as sobs racked her body. His arms were tight around her, and all he wanted in that moment was to take the pain from her. To make her forget. To help her cope. To erase the horrible truth that was cutting through her. Destroying her.

But no, that wasn't really all he wanted to do. What he wanted more was to burst through that door, put his hands around Colin's neck, and squeeze until he'd snuffed out every bit of life remaining in the man. A man who claimed to love him, to love Jane. A man who hurt them. Who lied to them. Who'd run roughshod over their lives, destroyed their childhoods, and left both him and Jane broken.

Broken.

No matter how much he wished it wasn't, he knew damn well it was true. They coped--and god knew they coped better together than apart--but that didn't change the simple fact that Colin's fucked-up kidnapping scheme and what happened inside that cell had broken both of them.

There was no going back; they could only move forward. And Dallas knew that killing Colin now couldn't change the past.

But it would feel so damn good.