Hunting Her Box Set

Torian

She doesn’t react.

There’s no disbelief, or humor, and yet again, not a glimpse of fear.

The only change comes with the slight decrease in color to her face. Her sun-ravaged skin grows pale, her ruby lips a million times darker in contrast as she swallows.

“You don’t need to respond. All I want is for you to remain open to the conversation.”

“Open,” she repeats on a faint murmur.

She’s overwhelmed with shock, or disbelief, her green eyes glazing in confusion.

I push from the counter, needing distance. “I brought you here, despite our differences, because this will give us what we both want. I will have a reliable witness. And in return, you get the justice you crave.”

She shakes her head, her brows pinched. “Your justice. Not mine. This goes against everything I believe in. And even if I thought you were telling the truth, which I don’t, I wouldn’t be able to support your plan. This is fucking ridiculous.”

“I don’t need your support. Or your interaction. I only need your presence.”

She lowers her gaze, her head still repeating the back and forth motion. “This is a game. It’s not real.”

“It’s not a game—”

“You’ve said that before.” Her head snaps up, her eyes fierce with spite. “You’ve told me no more games. No more lies. No more bullshit. But it never fucking stops.”

“I fucked up,” I admit. “I succumbed to the need to retaliate one too many times. Taunting you became my only stability after my father’s arrest. So tell me what I need to do to earn your trust.”

“Trust? Are you kidding?” She straightens, showing conviction. “It makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense. I need to prove my father is dead. And you—”

“Bullshit, Cole. I’m not here to be a witness. I don’t believe it for a second. You could get Luca to do that. Hell, you could get the asshole from the boat. Or a local. Anyone can be your damn witness. Or you could take a fucking photo, for Christ’s sake. Or a souvenir.” She lets out a maniacal bark of a laugh. “Why not chop off your dad’s ear as proof?”

“I won’t allow evidence to leave the crime scene.” I mutter the words, slow and lethargic, trying to counter the fast pace of her rambling. “Not even a photo. The information will be shared without the horrors of body pieces or traumatic photos as proof.”

“How kind of you.” She shakes her head, over and over, her eyes narrowed on me. “I still don’t believe this isn’t some kind of trick.”

I sigh, my fury and frustration mingling. “Nissa, the information can’t come from one of my men. Their word means nothing when everyone already knows they would say or do anything for me. The same goes for those who could be paid off or intimidated. But an FBI agent with integrity, unwavering morals, and no fear of me? Now that’s the perfect candidate to tell the truth, don’t you think?”

“An FBI agent who would have no choice but to arrest you if you went ahead with this.”

Her response is disappointing. I feel the hit to my chest like a physical blow.

I’d hoped she would see this as a victory. Not another opportunity to be antagonistic. “You can’t. We’re in Greece. You have no authority here.”

“I’m well aware, but I could make a citizen’s arrest until police arrive.”

“The same police who’ve worked with my father for years?” I raise a brow. “That will either get you killed or sent to work in the same sex slums that have lined their pockets for years. Either way, you’ll disappear and never set foot in the States again. They’re the enemy here. Not me.”

“You’re both the enemy.” She scoffs. “This is crazy.”

“Maybe. But it’s necessary. I didn’t want to go down this path, but there’s no other option.”

“This isn’t an option at all, Cole. And to be honest, if it’s true, it sounds like a show of utter weakness. Who are you doing this for? What associate has enough power over you to convince you to kill your own father?”

I flinch. I can’t help it. The comment on my weakness hits a target she didn’t know existed. “You don’t need to concern yourself with my reasons.”

She holds my stare, the groove of her brow digging deeper. She’s starting to believe me. Understanding dawns in her features, the anger turning to concern.

“You’re serious,” she murmurs. “You actually want me to witness your father’s murder.”

I leave her in silence, letting her come to terms with the truth.

“This is crazy.” She shakes her head. “It still makes no sense when there’s the much better alternative to get him back behind bars. If you work with the authorities—”

“Don’t even start.” I clench a fist at my side. “Have you listened to a word I’ve said?”

“I’ve listened to every insane word that’s come out of your mouth. I’ve listened even though I’m here as your prisoner. But that isn’t going to stop me from telling you this is wrong. And what you expect from me is completely delusional. I won’t help you. I won’t confirm anything. I can’t.”

I smirk, the expression so fucking tight, because looking at her in animosity is far better than exposing my fear of failure. “It isn’t wrong. You’re the one who’s misguided. The authorities are worthless. There won’t be any justice at all, unless I’m the one who claims it.”

She stares, almost glares, her self-assurance growing with my conviction.

We remain in the battle for visual supremacy for long moments, those big eyes focused on mine, her ruby lips pursed.

She’ll crack.

She has to, because I won’t.

“Okay. Fine.” She throws up her hands. “Let’s talk this through. Hypothetically.”

I incline my head. “Hypothetically.”

Her eyes roll as she huffs. “Your plan is to kill your father while I watch. Then I can spread the good word about your deeds like you’re the Wizard of fucking Oz. But what happens to those women? You said the FBI endangered those left behind by arresting Luther. What will happen to them once he’s dead?”

“His death will inspire chaos. The men left behind will fight for power. They’ll slaughter one another in their attempt to climb to the top. Local residents will be affected. Then the media will get involved, and police will be forced to act, in return freeing those women.”

“You’re working on assumptions and speculation?” she accuses.

“If things don’t fall apart naturally, I’ll call in reinforcements to shut it down. I’m not going to let this continue. Not under my name.”

She stares at me. Stares right through me. “This is insanity.”

“No. It’s the only fucking option. And nobody but a trusted few need to know. Once you relay the truth of what I’ve done to those necessary, you can pretend you were never here.”

Her eyes snap back to reality. “You think I’m capable of hiding this? For you?”

“Not for me, Nissa. For those women. For justice against my father. The consequences for being a snitch aren’t worth trying to take me down for a good deed.”

Her eyes flair with the threat. Air leaves her lungs on a heave and she looks away, her anger seeming to bubble.

“You’ll never get him back behind bars.” I lower my voice, trying to provide a calming buffer to the tumultuous battle in her eyes. “He’s already fled the US. And even if you have some incredible stroke of luck and convince someone here to arrest him, he’s never going to talk. He won’t tell you where the rest of the women are. But he’ll open up to me. He’ll spill his secrets.”

Her gaze snaps to mine. Speculative. Hopeful. “You’ll get that information?”

“I can.”