Don’t Breathe (A Taylor Sage FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 2)

D O N ’ T   B R E A T H E

(A Taylor Sage FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 2)

M o l l y   B l a c k

Molly Black

Bestselling author Molly Black is author of the MAYA GRAY FBI suspense thriller series, comprising nine books (and counting); of the RYLIE WOLF FBI suspense thriller series, comprising six books (and counting); of the TAYLOR SAGE FBI suspense thriller series, comprising three books (and counting); and of the KATIE WINTER FBI suspense thriller series, comprising six books (and counting).

An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Molly loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.mollyblackauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.

Copyright © 2022 by Molly Black. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright George AL James, used under license from Shutterstock.com.

BOOKS BY MOLLY BLACK

MAYA GRAY MYSTERY SERIES

GIRL ONE: MURDER (Book #1)

GIRL TWO: TAKEN (Book #2)

GIRL THREE: TRAPPED (Book #3)

GIRL FOUR: LURED (Book #4)

GIRL FIVE: BOUND (Book #5)

GIRL SIX: FORSAKEN (Book #6)

GIRL SEVEN: CRAVED (Book #7)

GIRL EIGHT: HUNTED (Book #8)

GIRL NINE: GONE (Book #9)

RYLIE WOLF FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

FOUND YOU (Book #1)

CAUGHT YOU (Book #2)

SEE YOU (Book #3)

WANT YOU (Book #4)

TAKE YOU (Book #5)

DARE YOU (Book #6)

TAYLOR SAGE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

DON’T LOOK (Book #1)

DON’T BREATHE (Book #2)

DON’T RUN (Book #3)

KATIE WINTER FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

SAVE ME (Book #1)

REACH ME (Book #2)

HIDE ME (Book #3)

BELIEVE ME (Book #4)

HELP ME (Book #5)

FORGET ME (Book #6)

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

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

Emily nibbled on her lip and bounced on her toes, hidden beneath a pair of flats she hoped weren’t too casual for the occasion. A line-up of people spread before her, all waiting for admission to the United States Capitol building. Emily clutched her coffee in her shaking hands as the early morning sun caused beads of sweat to form beneath her bangs.

A few security guards waited at the entrance of the massive building. As sweaty and nervous as Emily was, she glanced up and marvelled at it. She was really here. The Capitol dome reached proudly into the afternoon sky, and the white building shone like ivory in the sun.

All her life she’d been waiting for this day. Someday, she wanted to join Congress herself—but starting as an aid to the esteemed Senator Corbin Ryan was a start. The line continued, and Emily breathed in and out, practicing the techniques her therapist had taught her to keep her anxiety in check.

I already have the job. I don’t need to be so nervous!

Two security guards greeted her: one behind a desk, the other standing by a metal detector.

 Your ID and reason for visit?

I’m Senator Ryan’s new aid? He should be expecting me. Oh, here, I have ID— Emily went to reach into her purse for her ID card, just as the burning coffee cup squeezed a bit too hard in her hand—and slipped right out.

Boiling hot liquid seared Emily’s chest as the coffee dumped all over her. She screamed and jumped back. Not only did it burn like heck—but her crisp white blouse was now a horrible shade of brown.

Emily had always been a klutz. But this was truly the worst moment of her life.

 Miss, are you okay? the security guard asked, his face bewildered.

Right—Emily was still in front of people. She was being watched. Totally embarrassed, she stammered, I, um—I’ll be right back! and bolted out of the Capitol building.

Her mind raced. This was a disaster, but maybe she could still fix it. Sometimes she kept extra clothes in her car. Yes—she probably had a sweater in there. It wouldn’t look the best, but anything would be better than coming into the senator’s office covered in java.

She hurried toward the parking garage, trotting down the steps until she was underground, surrounded by concrete and cars. It was cooler down here, and the smell of gasoline filled her nose. The sound of her shoes clacking resounded through the underground parking lot. She picked up her pace. If she didn’t hurry, she would not only show up looking like total crap—she’d show up late.

But as she was passing by an entrance to another stairwell, a shadow caught her eye in her periphery. Emily did a double-take before she looked over.

A woman sitting on the ground, her back slouched up against the wall.

She had platinum blonde hair covering her face, and was dressed in business-casual—it looked like a pencil skirt and a blazer with a blouse underneath. She was also completely motionless.

Emily paused. Was this lady drunk or something? For a moment, Emily felt slightly better about her situation. Sure, she was a mess at the Capitol—but this person was way messier.

Don’t be mean, she scolded herself. Maybe she needs help. I should go see if she’s okay.

Emily glanced at her watch. 7:49 a.m. She had to be in Senator Ryan’s office in eleven minutes. She didn’t have time to check on some passed out, drunk lady. It so wasn’t her problem.

But as she went to pass, she realized she couldn’t just leave the poor thing, either. She imagined herself in that situation: how awful it would have been if someone had just left her like that. She’d had more than her fair share of drunk all-nighters, after all, so she got it.

Emily sighed and trotted up to the woman, whose blonde hair shielded her face.

Excuse me, miss. Are you okay?

No response.

Emily approached until she was right next to the woman. Emily glanced over her shoulder, an uneasy feeling crawling through her.

Hello? Miss? You okay down there? Have one too many mimosas?

Still silence.

Damn it, I don’t have time for this!

Emily leaned right in to grab the woman, but that was when she saw it.

A stab wound pierced right through the center of the woman’s chest, a pool of blood staining her shirt.

Emily stumbled back and barely had time to contain her horror before her screams echoed, again and again, through the garage.

CHAPTER TWO

Special Agent Taylor Sage flipped the pancakes simmering in the pan, the smell of warm maple in her kitchen. The morning sun poured through the back window as her husband, Ben, poked the bacon around next to her. Taylor slid a couple of pancakes onto the plate on the counter, then went to add another patch to the pan.

Honey, don’t forget to add more butter first, Ben said, not looking at her.

Taylor hesitated, hand still holding the measuring cup full of batter. Oh. Right… She scooped some butter out of the tub and lobbed it into the pan, creating pops and sizzles in the air. She added the batter, zoning out as it began to caramelize on the bottom side. Heat radiated off the pan, so warm and mesmerizing, when—

POP.

Taylor flinched as the bacon next to her popped loudly. Ben shot her a frown.

You okay, honey?

Fine, fine…

But it wasn’t fine. Taylor ran her hand over her abdomen, where a phantom pain grew. Was this where she was at now—triggered into a flashback just by cooking breakfast?

Two weeks had passed since she’d started back at work again. And it’d been even longer since she was discharged from the hospital. Summer was drawing to an end, and the shadows were growing longer. Soon, kids would be going back to school.

Kids. Taylor didn’t even want to think about them.

After the tarot reader’s ominous warning—that someone was going to leave her soon—Taylor hadn’t mustered up the strength to tell Ben the truth about what she found out at the hospital. That because of an old wound, she would never be able to give birth. His dream—their dream—of starting their own family had been ripped away permanently, and there was no going back.

It would devastate him. And while she had every intention of telling him, after the visit to Belasco’s, it became harder each day. Taylor had once believed that Ben would stand by her no matter what. But now, all because of some stupid card, she just wasn’t sure.

But holding this in was like keeping a malignant growth on her heart, slowing eating at her soul every day. It would probably kill her soon. Every night, she went to bed next to Ben, knowing she was lying to him. Sometimes they had sex, sometimes they didn’t. When they did—she felt the guiltiest of all. Because afterward, he would say things like, I’m so glad we’re trying now, and I can’t wait to start our family.

Every I love you with him was tainted now. And Taylor had to sit there with the fact that she knew damn well they were never starting a family. Not in the traditional way, the way Ben wanted, and had wanted the entire time she’d known him.

Fuck. I have to tell him. But how?

Taylor? Taylor!

Ben’s voice snapped her from her daze. A burning smell wafted up from the pancake in front of her, and smoke rose into the air. Taylor yelped and moved the pan off the burner.

Jesus, hon! Ben shouted, fanning the air with a towel. Are you trying to burn the place down? What’s wrong with you?

Taylor clammed up. This was all too much. How much longer could she go on with this charade? Hugging herself, she stormed away from the stove. She heard Ben clicking off the burners before he followed her into the living room.

Taylor. What the hell is going on?

She couldn’t face him. Her eyes burned. Was this really how it was going to go down? On a normal morning, making breakfast?

Ben, calmer now, moved in front of her. She didn’t look up at him as he grabbed her arms. Taylor, what’s going on? I’ve been trying to work with you, but… you’ve been acting strange. Ever since you left the hospital, you’ve just been different.

Taylor dared to look up into Ben’s brown eyes. The eyes she loved so much. He scanned her face before he smoothed his thumb over her cheek. But Taylor pulled away, and hurt darted over his face.

What is this? he asked, getting emotional himself.

Ben, I…, she trailed off. I just don’t know what to say.

 Taylor, if something happened… you can tell me. What is it? Is it your partner? He paused, his voice thick with emotion. Are you having an affair?

What? No! She was appalled he could even think that—Taylor was extremely dedicated to Ben. She’d never cheat.

Then what the hell is going on with you? His eyes were bloodshot and desperate. Taylor’s stomach did a million flips.

It’s time. You have to tell him.

She tried to think it in her father’s voice, as if it would give her strength. But her father would never be as weak as she’d been over these past weeks. She knew her father would have told her to tell Ben the truth immediately, and she should have done that. Now things were going to be way worse, because not only could she not have kids, but she’d lied about it for weeks.

Taking a breath, Taylor tapped into her subconscious mind. Into the parts of herself that were closed off emotionally, the parts of herself that were unafraid. The parts she always unlocked at work. It felt weird to apply to her relationship, but at this point, maybe there was no other way. In order to tell the truth, she needed to stop being Ben Chambers’s wife and start being the strong agent she knew she could be.

So, she relaxed her jaw. She stifled her tears. And in a calm voice, she said, Ben, we need to talk.

Tensely, they sat on their living room couch, a full cushion away from each other. Ben leaned forward and clasped his hands together. Oh God, it’s an affair, isn’t it? His voice cracked.

Taylor shook her head. No. It’s not that. She drew a shaky breath and looked down at her hands, at her wedding ring. This was the moment. Then, she forced herself to meet his eyes. Ben, when I was in my mid-twenties… I was shot.

Ben flinched. Shot? Where? You never told me.

No, I didn’t. And I’m so sorry, but… Looking away, she lifted her shirt, which revealed the scar on her abdomen.

Your appendicitis scar, Ben said. You said it was surgery when you were sixteen.

I’m so sorry. I lied.

Ben’s scowl deepened. Taylor’s stomach flipped again.

So, what, it’s a gunshot scar instead? Ben asked. "Why did you lie about it? And what does this have to do with anything?"

It has to do with everything. Another deep breath. Time for the truth.

The shooting was trauma I didn’t want to relive, Ben, Taylor said. The truth is, I was ashamed of the circumstances that led to it because I had been, well… I’d been reckless. Like I was with Jeremiah Swanson. But the consequences were even more severe. I actually didn’t realize how bad it was until the hospital.

What do you mean? Ben looked at her with an innocent but concerned curiosity.

Ben… Taylor sighed. No more lying. No more games. I swear, I didn’t know this until I went to the hospital. But the doctor told me that when I was shot, it did permanent damage.

Confusion flitted across Ben’s face before Taylor was sure she saw awareness. Like he was finally starting to understand where she was going with this.

Swallowing a knot of dread, Taylor said: Ben, the doctor told me I can’t have kids.

Ben blinked. Once, twice, then his eyes fell to the floor. His face twisted, like he had a migraine. No—what? That can’t be right. We’ve been trying. We’ve…

Ben. Taylor blinked out tears. The pain in her heart was so severe, she felt like she couldn’t catch any air. I’m sorry. It’s true.

Abruptly, like a rocket, Ben stood up. Taylor closed her eyes, taking comfort in the darkness. She couldn’t bear to watch. But she could hear him—Ben pacing around the living room, his heavy footsteps thumping against the hardwood of their new home. The home they’d moved to with plans to start their own family.

Taylor, tell me you’re not serious, he said.

She didn’t reply. Didn’t look at him.

Taylor! he yelled. His booming voice caused her to pop her eyes open and face him. He’d never yelled at her, not like this, and she’d never seen more desperation on his face. Slowly, she stood.

I’m so sorry I lied, was all she could say.

Ben clutched his head and paced back and forth. "Taylor, this isn’t a small lie. This is our future. This is my future. All I’ve ever wanted is—"

A family. I know. It’s why I couldn’t tell you. It was too hard, Ben.

"I can’t believe you would hide this from me. It’s been weeks—we’ve been sleeping together, and that whole time, I thought we were trying for a fucking baby!"

Taylor flinched. In all of their years of marriage, Ben had only sworn at her a few times, and even then, it was never directed at her like this. Heartbreak was written all over his face, and she blinked out more tears. What else could she do? She didn’t ask to be shot—but she had created this situation by lying to him for so long. She should have told him the moment she found out. As her husband, it was his right to know.

I know this was cruel of me, she choked out, and I really am sorry. But— She walked up to him and grabbed his hands, hoping she could fix this. Ben just looked down at her, betrayed. But we can still have a family, Ben. There are other ways. We could adopt, we could—

Are you serious right now? He ripped his hands away and took a step back. I don’t want to talk about this, Taylor. I can’t just accept this. We need to see more specialists. There has to be a way. Do you think I want to raise someone else’s kid?

His words were biting. And Taylor could hardly believe them. Was the prospect of adopting