“Why? Because even though it might seem like it now, I’m not the bad guy here.”
“Right, because you’ve done such nice and law-abiding things.” She rolled her eyes.
Marcus stared her down, those denim blues burning her soul. “I know how it seems right now, but I’m not a bad person. You’ll see. Once we get back to the precinct, everything will make sense.”
She didn’t believe him for a second. The proof, as they said, was in the pudding.
***
Elise couldn’t believe what she had just heard.
There she sat, in some office with legal papers stacked everywhere and fluorescent lighting buzzing overhead, the scent of bitter, poorly made coffee filling her nostrils, and her head was spinning.
“Undercover?” she asked again. She just couldn’t wrap her head around it.
“I’ve been with PD for two years working this case. Wallis is cutthroat, and he had connections that run deep in the underground organized crime syndicate, so it took time to work my way inside.”
Marcus was explaining, once again, about how he’d managed to weave his way into the criminal world, doing just about all manner of things that he wouldn’t elaborate on to get where he was now. All of it leading up to Wallis, A.K.A. Driver’s, arrest.
“So, if I have this right, you were playing a role the whole time. You’re not a real criminal?”
“It’s all part of the job.”
She rubbed her temples where an ache was beginning to set in. “And how do I play into this again?”
“Wrong place, wrong time.”
Just as she’d suspected. Elise pinched the bridge of her nose next. She just couldn’t believe the roller coaster of emotion she’d experienced. To say she’d been put through the wringer was an understatement. All of it had left her weary.
“Am I free to leave? I want to go home.”
“As soon as you sign your statement, I’ll take you home.” Marcus slid the freshly-typed statement she’d provided toward her and held out a pen.
Elise quickly signed and passed both back. Standing, she said, “Thanks, but I’d prefer to call a cab.”
Marcus frowned as he stood with her. “I’d prefer to drive you home.”
Elise glared up at him. “I’d prefer you not to.” Even though a part of her—a very naïve part of her—wanted to fall into his arms and cry, a bigger part of her wanted to get the hell away from him. She needed distance from…well, everything. Time to clear her head. To make sense of the world again.
“All due respect—”
Elise held up a hand. “All due respect, if you finish that sentence, I’m going to knee you in the balls, and after the day I’ve had, I don’t need a jail sentence, okay? I’ll be calling a cab.”
“Still a pain in the ass.”
Elise paused mid-step. Averting her gaze, she admitted, “You know, as bad as it should have been, being kidnapped was probably the best thing to ever happen to me.”
With that, she walked out.
And felt Marcus’s eyes on her the whole way.
Chapter Eleven
Strawberry Pop-Tarts. After the meals—scarce as they’d been—she’d had during her time in captivity, the toaster pastries just didn’t hold the same appeal they’d once had. Into the trash can they went. Elise sighed.
It’d been a week since she’d walked out of the precinct. She hadn’t looked back. Unless her thoughts counted, in which case, she was practically living in the past.
Kidnapping and being held hostage was far from anyone’s list of acceptable life experiences, least of all Elise’s list, but she found herself reliving every moment on a loop.