Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
She tapped on her notebook. “Don’t kid yourself, though. You suffer in other ways, Missy. That’s why you’re here. Your experience has left its mark on you. But as for sex—enjoy it. Explore it.”
I sighed as I returned to the present and looked at the piles of paper I had gone through. The door to the apartment was opened, and Marcus strode in, his gaze immediately finding me.
“Lunchtime,” he stated.
I tried not to roll my eyes at him but failed. One way Marcus showed his care was by feeding me. I had gained back some of the weight I had lost, and I was stronger every day. After counseling, I used the gym in the building where Julian ran the team. Marcus introduced me to one of the trainers, and I worked with Ellen, building my strength and muscles. I had missed that part of my daily routine. I used to work out at the station all the time, and I had taken kickboxing lessons and had started looking into some martial arts training. For now, though, I was happy to be building my body back up, and I used Marcus’s little room on the days I worked from here.
I picked up the sandwich he slid in front of me. “I can make my own lunch, you know.” I wasn’t much of a cook, but I could handle a sandwich. I made a mean pot roast, and my pancakes were pretty stellar. Marcus hadn’t let me show him either, though.
“I know, but I like making you lunch.” He grinned and bit into his much larger sandwich, chewing and swallowing before lifting his glass to his full mouth and taking a long drink of his water. He became serious, meeting my eyes across the table. “We have another tip. Once we confirm it, we’re going to move fast.”
“You’ve had a lot of them.”
He ate for a moment in silence, nodding in acknowledgment.
“You think they are all Xander?”
“Same MO. Abandoned building, young women under twenty, small groups, easily moved, held in one place for a bit, then taken elsewhere.”
“Do you think you’ll find any, ah, like me?”
The last two raids, they had noticed several of the women bore a physical resemblance to me. None had been separated the way I was, but some of the women told them they had been put in front of a camera and dismissed.
“If so, we’ll know it’s him for sure.” He reached across the table, flipping over his hand and waiting until I slid mine into his, then closing his fingers around my palm. “We’ll figure this out, Missy. You’re safe here. He isn’t looking for you.”
“But you think he’s looking for someone like me.”
He pushed away his empty plate. “Yes. My gut tells me so. I just don’t know why.” He dragged his hands through his hair. “We can’t find him—he’s like a ghost. One grainy picture. Lots of gossip and rumors. Even the assholes that work for him have no idea who he is or what he looks like. I don’t know what drives him, what he’s looking for.”
“Maybe if you stopped killing the men who work for him, you could find out,” I replied, lifting one eyebrow.
He shook his head. “We didn’t kill anyone the last two raids. They were questioned, promised a new life, anything to get a handle on this fucker. We went through everything. He’s good—too good at being elusive.”
“And where are they now?”
It was his turn to lift an eyebrow. “We finished questioning them. They outlived their usefulness.”
I knew what that meant, and I didn’t respond. Marcus and his team meted out punishment and justice in their own way. I knew as well as they did, if they were let go, the men would simply return to their illegal pursuits.
“I wish I could help more. Remember more.” Something was on the fringe of my memories. Something small but significant. But the more I tried to recall it, the more it faded away.
“You’re doing great, sweetheart. Damien says you made a few suggestions he’s running down.”
I pushed away my plate, my appetite gone. “Doesn’t feel like enough.”
“Is that all you’re going to eat? Half a sandwich?”
“Yes.” I paused. “I want to talk to Damien. Can I go down with you after lunch?”
He disliked me down in the command center. I knew he worried about the things I would see and hear, but I liked being down there. I was actually able to tune out most of the background noise and concentrate on the files I was working on. It was the energy, the buzz around me, that helped me focus. Up here, there was too much silence. Too much distance from where Marcus was. I felt better being in the same room with him, even if I couldn’t touch him.
“Eat your sandwich, and you can come with me.” He bargained.