“Katelyn…”
I meet Luke’s gaze. His dark eyes are kind. Caring. I want to spill everything.
Of course, if I do that, he’ll run as far away as he can from me.
The officer, though? I could tell him. I could ask him why Ice Man isn’t behind bars like the others. Even Prince Christian of Cordova is in prison in his own municipality. Some things can’t be forgiven.
“I don’t know him,” I say again.
Office Lydeck pulls out his wallet, opens it, and hands me a business card. “Anytime you want to talk, call. I’ll listen. And I’ll make sure charges stick if they’re warranted.” He hands another card to Luke. “Just in case.”
Luke nods. “Thank you. And thanks for letting the battery go.”
“I know a derelict when I see one,” Lydeck says. “That man may be dressed well and have ID and a wife, but he’s up to no good. I hated letting him go.”
“Why did you, then?” Luke asks.
“Because trying to speak to a woman isn’t a crime in New York. If he’d touched her in any way, I could have done something.”
“What about stalking?”
“Has he tried to contact you before?” the officer asks me.
I clear my throat. “No.”
Except on the island, but that doesn’t count. And I sure can’t get into that on a busy Manhattan street on a weekday evening.
“If he tries again, call me. Anytime,” Officer Lydeck stresses.
“Okay,” I say. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I wish I could do more. Both of you try to have a nice evening. What’s left of it.” He tips his hat and is on his way.
Luke turns to me then. “You want to see if I can get our table back?”
“God, no. Not in there. I’m creeped out.”
“Katelyn.”
“Hmm?”
“You do know him.”
A statement. Not a question. Luke already knows, so why deny it?
“I do. He was…a client when I was an escort.” Nice lie. Believable, at least.
“And did he…?”
“Hurt me? No.” Not physically, anyway. Heck, he didn’t even fuck me. He was one of the easier visitors.
But he was my least favorite.
I scoff silently. Least favorite? Such a misnomer. It sounds like I actually had a favorite, which I didn’t. They all were horrible satanic people.
They all deserve to burn in hell.
“What is it, then?” Luke asks.
“He’s a creep. A bona fide creep.”
“Did he ever stalk you?”
I don’t reply. The answer is both yes and no. Yes, in that he always came back to me on the island. But no. In reality, he never stalked me. The island was far from reality.
“Katelyn. Please. Answer me.”
“No. Not really. I just don’t like him. I left that part of my life in LA.”
Luke trails a finger over my forearm. Just a light touch, but I shiver.
“Are you ever going to level with me?” he asks.
“About what?”
“About your past. I know you weren’t an escort.”
“Sure, I was.” It’s not even a lie. I’m simply making the truth more palatable.
“Katelyn… I’m originally from LA, remember? I know how escort services work. The women are talkative, flirty.”
“Maybe I used to be talkative and flirty.” Not a lie. I was. Before.
Before I was taken.
Before I was forced into prostitution.
Before I was forced into the hunt.
“Were you?” he asks. “And if you were, why did you change?”
I don’t answer.
I can’t answer.
“I’m no longer hungry,” I say. “I want to go home.”
Luke reaches toward me again but then hesitates and pulls his hand back to his side. “All right. If that’s what you want.”
Is it? Is it what I want? I don’t have a fucking clue what I actually want. I like this man. I shouldn’t, but I do. He’s kind to me. He’s gentle. I feel safe with him.
I never thought I’d feel safe with a man again.
I breathe in, hold it a few seconds, and then let the air whoosh out of my lungs in a sigh. “Luke?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t want to go home yet.”
“You changed your mind that quickly?”
I nod. “I want to…walk. I need to work off some energy.”
I know a better way to work off energy.
Every guy in the world would say those words, and I wait, expecting them to tumble out of Luke’s mouth.
“A walk,” he says instead. “It’s a nice night. Okay. But we have to stop somewhere for a slice, because you may not be hungry but I’m starved. It took a hell of a lot of energy for me to not knock that creep unconscious.”
“I wish you had.” No lie there.
“Then the good officer probably wouldn’t have let me go.”
“True. Let me rephrase that. I wish you had and not gotten arrested.”
“Better. Though if he’d touched you, he wouldn’t be walking right now.”
Yeah, he touched me. With his bodily fluids. With his slimy hands. But I can’t go there.
Instead—
I smile.
And it’s a big smile. A smile like I haven’t smiled in years. It’s also forced.