“I, uh...I have to do laundry tomorrow, so probably a bandeau and panties, maybe pink.” This is the weirdest and sexiest conversation of my entire life.
Leaning back, I feel his middle finger slide into the waist of my shorts and panties and slip down the crack of my butt as far as he can before requesting, “Send me a picture with a thong...from behind.”
“Hale!” My astounded whisper has the man he came in with raising a brow as his eyes wander up and down our bodies.
“I’ll send you one too.” This man. One minute, he’s so sweet and gentle, and the next, he’s hot and demanding. I’m not sure which I like more, but I can see the benefit of both. And no matter which way he’s acting, I’m always left breathless and fluttering, wondering what he’s going to do or say next. “Ophelia gave me your number. I’ll text you tonight. I want that picture, Laken. Any picture, but send me something.”
Reluctantly, he lets me go, moving back to the other side of the counter where his friend hands him a coffee, and suddenly, I remember we’re in public. My face overheats with embarrassment, and I run to the back with the sound of his groaned laughter following me.
Shutting myself in Ophelia’s office, I can’t believe the way he touched me, talked to me, guessed what I was wearing without prompting. Sometimes the things he says and does make me wonder if he knows more than he’s letting on.
Hale Decker is unlike anyone I’ve met in my entire life.
He’s overbearing, overwhelming, and overstimulating.
And he consumes me. Makes me believe there’s more to life than fear.
I both love and hate each characteristic for varied reasons.
And yet, I couldn’t imagine him any other way. I worry that he might be too much for me, although maybe I could handle him. Perhaps if he knew about my past, he would understand the hell I’ve been through and could help build me stronger.
I feel all twisted up inside. I want so much out of life, but I’m afraid to reach for it, to grab something for myself and believe I deserve it. Hale makes me think that I could.
But first, I need to put the past behind me. To finally be free of Mason’s clutches and not live in fear of him coming after me. I also have to find a way to tell Hale about him. About all the ways he hurt me.
Hale
After putting our suspect, Rhett Rice, into a jail cell for a few hours with some scary-ass dude, he was a little more willing to talk. First, I wanted to ensure he understood the gravity of the situation by bringing in the gruesome murder boards with all the victims’ images and closeups of their wounds, of the torture they endured. I have one murder board for every two victims, leaving us with more than half a dozen exhibits around the room. Everywhere you look, there’s an image of death. Blood, gore. Lifeless eyes staring into a void.
“Well, Rhett, what do you think of his handy work? Think these girls deserved what they went through?” He pales as he enters the room, taking in the destruction; even through secondhand imagery, it’s hard to stomach. “How about little Missy Meyers? Fourteen, a cheerleader in the UK, shipped over illegally, forced to do god only knows what and then tossed away like garbage.” Looking at our youngest victim, I feel sick all over again.
“You honestly think she deserved to be raped, Rhett?” Dorian whispers close to the man’s bent head. “Look at her. She was young, had a bright future ahead of her. A family who loved her, and now, she’s nothing more than bones in the ground.”
“I don’t know anything,” he cries out again.
“You know, I believe you for the most part. I believe you’re not part of the trafficking ring; however, I also believe you know who heads it. We didn’t pick your name out of a hat for fun and just decide you were guilty of something. We saw you with Esme Kostya about a month after she arrived here. You were giving her food and water. Same with a couple of other young girls we were able to locate and save.” Eight girls in total we’ve gotten off the street and back home to their families, but some of them had no one back home to report them missing.
“Come on, Rhett, we just want his name. You haven’t asked for a lawyer, which tells me you were genuinely trying to help these girls, but you know something. You know someone. Help us, and we can help you. There’s no reason for this to continue on.” Dorian’s easy-going negotiation is beginning to wear on the man. I can see him almost ready to break.
“I’ve got a girl; she’s younger than me. Barely knows I exist, and man, you know what?” He glances up at me. “The thought of a man like this getting a hold of her, it makes me murderous. If someone touched her, violated her the way these girls have been, I’d gut them. Slice them from asshole to mouth hole, and there’s not a damn thing in the universe that could stop me.” He swallows roughly. “If I knew there was someone out there who knew he was doing this, knew these girls were in trouble, there’s not a lot that would save him from my wrath, either.”Fuck.The more I talk...think about Laken being in a position where she could fall victim the way these girls have, the more murderous I feel. Rage wrestles for control, and all I want to do is join Laken in bed and hold her all fucking night.
“He’ll kill me, my family. I have more to fear from him than I do from you. I’m sorry.” Rhett shakes his head before dropping it to the table in defeat. “I want a lawyer.”
Fuck!
Slamming a fist on the table, I walk out, telling my captain as I go, “He’s lawyered up. I’m going to see my son.” I don’t wait on Dorian to come out. I beeline straight for my truck and head to my parents’ house. I need to see Jesse. To assure myself he’s alright and safe in bed.
Even though he should be sleeping by now, I know he won’t be because I promised I’d be here tonight. As I pull up to the house, I see him on the front grass with my mom, trying to catch lightning bugs with a jar as they flit around in front of them.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” I grin as he trips while spinning around so fast that his feet tangle.
“You made it!” Putting the lid on his jar, Jesse jumps to his feet and runs over, showing me what he’s got. “I caught two. Gramps didn’t think I’d get any.”
“What does he know? He’s old.”
“I heard that!” We laugh as he pops his head out the door.
“Let’s get you into bed, bud. I’ll be here in the morning to take you to school.” Nodding, he rushes inside, sticks his tongue out at Pops as he darts past, and quickly brushes his teeth before hopping into bed. After reading him a book where he falls asleep halfway through, I walk back out to my parents, who are sitting on the sofa as a show plays quietly on the T.V.