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Mother.

Fucker.

“You should’ve told me that in the first place,” I grate. “It makes more fucking sense.”

“You’re a loose ca

Three days.

Three fucking days where I’ll go insane without more insight.

“No, please.” I wince through the plea. “You need to tell me something. Anything. I don’t care what it is. I just need an update to tide me over.”

“Fox…”

“Come on. How long have we worked together? Doesn’t that count for something?”

“You know I’ve got your back. That’s why I’ve kept my mouth shut. You’re going to get in some deep shit if you keep poking your nose around this investigation. The stakes are building too high, and anything that distracts Taggert from the case is going to send him postal.”

My pulse kicks up a notch. “So something else has happened. Something that isn’t public knowledge.”

“Fox,” he warns.

I sit up and frantically try to force my brain to find leverage. “Please. Please. Please.” God, the begging makes me feel dirty. Fucking filthy. “I can help. You know I can. Nobody knows this family better than I do.”

“Jesus,” he hisses. “You must be desperate.”

“You have no idea.” I hold my breath through the growing silence, and my leg jolts, out of control. I’m shaking, my need for a fix uncontrollable.

“More women have gone missing,” he mutters.

I slump as the information sinks in.

“Young, attractive women from stable families,” he continues. “These aren’t runaways or girls likely to get caught up in trouble. We’re leaning toward abduction. And all of them have happened since Luther escaped.”

My throat goes dry, and the memories of past crime scenes come back to haunt me.

I’ve been inside homes used for the exchange of sex slaves. I’ve witnessed mass graves filled with the remnants of tangled female bodies.

These women could be next, and what’s worse is the suffering they might endure before they finally receive the peace that comes with death.

“It could be a coincidence,” he murmurs. “You know how these things go. It wouldn’t be a shock if this turned out to be entirely unrelated.”

“But you don’t think so?”

“No. I think Luther is sending a message.”

One that a

A duplicate message to the one Cole has already given me.

“How many?” My heart beats rapidly in my throat as seconds pass. “How many women, Easton?”

“Two. Every day. For the last three days. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. All of them from Portland. Whoever is responsible isn’t even spreading them out across the state.”

My heart drops at the additional stab to my ego. I’ve been wasting away the hours while these women get abducted, and still, Taggert doesn’t want me involved.

“What about today?” My thoughts snap to the woman who accompanied Cole inside the club. The beautiful brunette. “Have there been any additional reports?”

“Just one. We’re waiting on a second. I don’t think the pattern will change anytime soon.”

Seven women.

With more likely to fall victim.

I can’t sit on my hands any longer. Nobody should.

“I need to help.” I’ll take Cole up on his offer. I can sit down with him and use my own manipulative magic to get inside information. I won’t need much. The slightest slip could lead to their downfall. One tiny straw to instigate an avalanche. “I can help.”

“Don’t even think about it. It’s not worth it. If Taggert finds out, you’re gone. Not only from the department, but maybe from the Bureau entirely. He’s gu

“It's been days. Am I meant to sit on my ass and wait while more women are taken?”

“No, you’re meant to detach from the situation and rely on us to do the work. You’re not the only agent in Portland. We’ve got this.”

I scoff. I’ll believe in their abilities when they’re focused on something other than their hatred for me.

“Promise me, Fox. Tell me you’re not going to do anything crazy.”

I keep my mouth shut. My teeth are snapped tight. I don’t want to make a vow I can’t keep.

“Fox, fucking swear it or I’ll come find you. I’m not joking.”

“It’s not that easy.”

The Torians have been a part of my life since I was on the cusp of my teenage years. I still remember the night when Cole’s mother died from a gunshot wound. I remember, because my father cried that night. He’d walked through the front door, his eyes red and glistening, then slumped into my mother’s arms.

I wasn’t told why.

As a child, I wasn’t told much of anything, especially about my father’s position within the FBI. I had to figure it out from the newspapers. The following day, I’d seen his photo on the front page, his solemn face encapsulated for the world to see as he helped investigate a young woman gu

I’ve hated them since then. They’re a vile family whose actions are gruesome enough to make an unshakable man like my father tear up.

But I can’t let my cravings for justice blind me to the warnings from Taggert. I have to be cautious. Smart.

Easton’s right, no matter how much I want to deny it.

“Don’t be a fucking moron,” he snarls.

“Fine. I swear it.” I slam my palm against the steering wheel and glare toward the front of the club. “I’ll speak to you later.”

I don’t wait for him to respond. I disco

I know he’s only trying to look out for me, but there are so many other things I’m aware of too. For example, I’m blindingly aware Cole is involved in every deceitful action attributed to his family. I’m also mindful of his influence and reach. And it’s crystal fucking clear he has no plans to change his criminal ways.

I don’t care if there’s no evidence of his involvement in Luther’s escape.

He participated.

I can feel the potency of his treachery in my blood. Can taste it with every breath.

There has to be an evidence trail.

He can’t keep everyone quiet forever. More witnesses have to come forward. DNA had to be left at the scene. It’s only a matter of searching harder, for longer.

I turn on the radio to distract myself from the maddening loop of frustration and focus on the front of the club for hours.

I don’t leave. Not when my eyes grow tired or my butt goes numb. I have nowhere else to go apart from an empty apartment filled with reminders of my failure.

I’m still sitting there at three in the morning when a familiar man walks out the front doors and farewells the bouncer with a hand clasp and a pat on the back.

After all this time, Cole remains crisp. Entirely impeccable.

I don’t know how the asshole does it. He never appears anything other than immaculate. The hair. The style.

He’s a flawless illusion. Perfect on the outside with a charred soul hidden beneath.

The only thing missing is a woman at his side.

He’s alone.

The gorgeous brunette isn’t with him, and I doubt she would’ve rejected his advances. He isn’t the type of man anyone denies. And I find it hard to believe he chose to end the night on his own.

So where is she?

My palms sweat as my mind runs wild with possibilities.

Is the club a cover? Is she trapped somewhere inside, her screams muted by loud music? Was his companion the next victim?