Page 42 of A Dead Man’s Pulse (Trident Security Omega Team #1)

She still had the on-demand morphine drip hooked up to her IV, but she didn’t want to push the button, even though the wounds from the whip burned white-hot.

The drugs made her woozy, and she wanted to stay alert for when Logan woke up.

He’d been glued to the recliner in her room since she’d come out of surgery, only disappearing to use the bathroom or take a quick shower down the hall.

The nurses had taken pity on him and allowed him to use it after one of his teammates had brought him a change of clothes.

She studied him from her bed. His dirty-blond hair could use a trim, and whiskers covered his jaw and lip. She kind of liked the scruffiness—she’d always been a sucker for the bad-boy look as long as the persona didn’t go with it.

Yesterday, he’d filled her in on everything that’d happened.

She was still shocked, as everyone else was, that the Kink Killer had been working at The Covenant under their noses all this time.

He’d been hired as a bartender about a year after the club had opened but hadn’t been in the lifestyle before that.

His training to be a Dom began a few months after he’d started working there.

“They found a shit-load of evidence at his apartment,” Logan informed her while he held her hand, as if he couldn’t bring himself to release her for a mere second.

“Apparently, three women on the missing persons’ list had been his first two kills and a recent one—Lily Stokes.

According to a journal he kept, he’d dumped their bodies out in the gulf and regretted it after the first two.

He found he got a greater thrill when the other bodies were discovered.

As for Stokes, she died faster than he’d expected.

He was pissed about it, so that’s why she wasn’t posed in public like the others. ”

“Do they know what started it all? Usually there’s a trigger.”

He shook his head. “Not that they’ve found yet.

Dr. Suki Ralston and Parrish are pouring over everything they can find on him, but they still don’t know what set him off.

Suki said they may never know. It’s almost like the lifestyle—some people don’t know why they need it, they just do. Same goes for sociopaths.

“Hardwick called his victims his masterpieces. Believed he was immortalizing them or something. You could have been one of them.”

Logan swallowed hard as he stared at their joined hands, and she cut him off before the next words flew out of his mouth.

“If you apologize for shooting me one more time, Cowboy, I’m going to hit you over the head with the bedpan.

” She’d been hearing “I’m sorry” from him for the past three days—ever since she’d awakened after the surgery.

“I never would’ve gotten hit if I hadn’t been scared out of my mind that he was going to shoot you.

It happened. I’m still alive because of you, while he’s not.

I love you and don’t blame you, so cut the bullshit and stop feeling guilty. ”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a grin. “And I love you too.”

“Now that you can repeat as many times as you want,” she said with a saucy smile.

He leaned over and gently kissed her lips. “I love you, I love you, I love you. But you still deserve some punishment for kneeing me in the balls.”

“Jeez . . . you mean shooting me doesn’t make us even?”

“Hey, you’re awake.”

Her gaze met Logan’s drowsy one. “So are you. I don’t know how you can sleep in that chair.”

“I’ve slept in worse places.” He stood and stretched the kinks out of his back and neck. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been tenderized.” She was glad to see her lame joke made him smile as he stepped over and took her hand.

Dr. Trudy Dunbar had been in to see her that morning at Ian’s request. It was a given Dakota was going to have some PTSD issues for at least a while over her experience, and the psychologist had agreed to take her on as a client after she was released from the hospital.

Maybe she and Logan could have side-by-side desensitization therapy—or not.

She and Logan wouldn’t be the only ones with lingering issues over the case.

Brody Evans was apparently giving himself hell for not finding something in Hardwick’s background that would point to him being a serial killer, but there hadn’t been as far as anyone could tell.

He’d had a normal childhood with doting parents and two sisters, all of whom were horrified at the man he’d become.

Dakota felt sorry for them—since the killer’s name had been released, his family had needed to go into hiding from the press and threats from people who thought they should have known their loved one was a sociopath.

A knock on her door had them both looking up to see her father enter the room, and Dakota tensed as she had for the past few days, every time he came to see her. She was waiting for him to say, “See, I told you so,” knowing it was coming sooner or later.

Her father nodded at Logan before turning his attention to her. “Hi. How’re you feeling?”

“Okay. Just ready to get out of here.”

A small grin spread across his face, and Dakota realized he looked much older since she’d gotten shot.

“You’ve got the same energy your mother had.

She could never sit still for long either.

” He held up a brown paper bag as he stepped closer to her bed.

“Got you some muffins. I wasn’t sure what flavor you liked, so I got a few different ones. I know how much hospital food sucks.”

It wasn’t surprising he didn’t know her preferences, but she was caught off guard by the fact he’d brought her anything in the first place. “Um. Thanks.”

He placed the bag on the bedside tray, then stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his feet.

Silence filled the room as the three of them stared at each other, but then her father’s gaze fell to the floor.

“Listen. I . . . um . . . I know I’m not good at expressing myself—never was.

I still have no clue what your mother saw in me.

I . . . uh . . . I just want you to know that I’m .

. .” His water-filled eyes lifted and met her dry ones.

“. . . I’m proud of you, Dakota. I’m sorry I never told you that before.

You’re a damn fine cop, and I couldn’t be prouder if I tried. ”

Dakota’s jaw dropped as Logan gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Dad . . .” Tears welled up in her eyes and a lump formed in her throat. “I thought you hated me being a cop . . . didn’t think I should be one.”

“Are you kidding? No, I guess you’re not.

I don’t think that at all, sweetheart. I love that you followed in my footsteps .

. . I wish Gerry had too. But I was also afraid for you.

In this day and age, with the blue line all having targets on their back, I worry.

When they knocked on my door the other night, and I opened it to see the two captains standing there, I almost had a heart attack.

I thought you were dead, and I wouldn’t let them say anything at first because I was so afraid I’d lost you.

” Tears rolled down his weathered cheeks.

“I haven’t been the greatest of fathers—I know that—but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.

I’m so sorry, Dakota. I’m so, so sorry I failed you as a father. ”

She began to sob as she reached out with her free hand, beckoning him closer. He took it, then cupped her cheek, wiping her tears away while ignoring his own. “I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t know how, but I swear I’ll find a way to make it up to you. I love you.”

That just made her cry harder and her heart clench. “It—it’s okay, Dad. I love you too.”

With another squeeze of her hand, Logan stood and silently left the room, giving the father and daughter some time alone. When the door closed, the elder Swift gestured toward it. “By the way, he’s a keeper. But don’t tell him that.”

A half sob/half laugh burst from her lips. “I won’t.”