“Right.”
“Then use me as bait.”
“No fucking way.”
My hands have risen to her shoulders, and she gently pushes them down to rest on her thighs.
“Yes. I can go in and pretend I’m asking more questions, searching for more answers. I’ll be a sitting duck drawing him out, and the entire time, we’ll have your team keep looking to see what they can find. He’s already tried to get me anyway; we’ll just make it that much easier for us to find him.”
“No. And if you try to do it on your own, I swear to God, Violet—”
“I know, I know, you’ll tie me up, right?”
I curse under my breath, and she waves me off.
“He’s watching us. You know he is. You know he was at my place and he knows I’m here now, he has to, if his motive is to get the people that matter to you.”
I shake my head. I hate that my sister’s missing. I hate that she’s in danger. But there has to be another way.
Holding my gaze, her voice softens. She takes one of my hands from her thigh and turns it around so she cups it in two of her own. “We have to do something.”
My throat feels tight. I nod. “Yeah.”
“We have to find out who he is. Let’s sit with your team and piece together what we have. But I really think our time’s better spent at the bar than here or questioning those poor survivors who were traumatized anyway.”
I cringe. “Right.”
Her eyes harden. “I looked at the pictures of the victims. I’ve made connections. And I saw some things I never, ever want to see again.” She cringes. “I won’t tell you details because of Skylar, but believe me, we need to stop this guy.”
“Agreed.” I pull away from her with reluctance. “Let’s go.”
We’re ten minutes out. I love the way she’s hyper-focused and aware, her back ramrod straight as she sits next to me in the truck.
“Some people like pretty cars,” she says softly, fingering the leather details on the interior of my truck. “Some like race cars or convertibles or expensive, luxury cars. I mean, your Lamborghini’s nice,” she says with a shrug, in the same tone of voice one might say, I mean, it’ll do.
I feel the corners of my lips quirk up. It’ll do. “But you?”
She sighs contentedly and runs her hands palms down over the leather-clad dash. “If I could, I would spread my legs for this truck and fuck it good and hard, cowgirl style.”
I nearly hit the curb and catch myself just in time. “My God, woman. There’s a visual I won’t forget. What do you love about trucks?”
With a contented sigh, still running her hands over the leather, she grows meditative. “I like dangerous, powerful things. Your pit bulls, for instance. Some see nothing but a vicious, lethal dog. I see strength and loyalty, and they’re so beautiful to me I could cry. I love how when you sit in a truck like this, you’re above everyone else.”
“On top of the world,” I say softly. Violet gets it.
She moves closer to me, our bodies flush against each other in the cab. “I’ve always loved powerful, dangerous things.” Her fingers trail down my bicep, tracing the edges of muscles and veins. “Makes me feel… protected, I guess, but at the same time… not safe at all.” With what I know about her background, I understand. She sighs. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“It makes perfect sense.”
I accelerate when we get on the on ramp. Her grip on my arm tightens.
We’re five minutes out.
My phone rings. Joe. I hit the button on the steering wheel so we can both hear.
“Yeah?”
“I’ve got Derrick Dossier on the line for you.”
Chapter 12
Violet
If looks could kill, his phone would be incinerated right about now. I cringe at the latent threat in his voice.
“I want everyone in surveillance on this call.”
“On it, sir.”
I watch as he releases a breath. “Connect the call.” There’s a series of clicks. “Cain Master speaking.”
“Ahhh, Mr. Master. We meet again.” I shiver at the unpleasant sound of Dossier’s voice. Some voices are musical, almost lyrical. Others are neutral. Dossier’s makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
Cain glances at me. Someone he does know, or should know, as we suspected.
“No. Where’s my sister?”
“Settle down, Mr. Master. I have your sister right here.”
Cain’s shaking with anger, but I can tell he’s relieved as well.
Skylar’s alive. I exhale and reach my fingers to his knee. I give him a reassuring squeeze.
“Why don’t you put her on the phone.” His tone is deceptively calm. He’s a raging inferno, ready to annihilate. I’m not even the one he’s angry at, and his roiling fury has me trembling.
“Now, now, Mr. Master, no need to be hasty. Relax. Skylar and I are having a brilliant time, aren’t we?”