There was something so damned satisfying about a puddle of sweat.

It practically poured off me by the time I finished my workout, every muscle burning, breath coming in sharp gasps. I leaned forward, hands on my slightly bent knees, watching as a pool formed directly beneath my forehead.

I was careful to wipe it up before leaving the second bedroom I’d long since converted into a home gym, toweling my neck and shoulders in between stretches to help cool down my burning, aching muscles.

How anybody could question whether or not exercise was a drug was beyond me. Even after kicking my own butt, I couldn’t stop smiling. Thanks, endorphins.

The world outside my window was still pretty quiet—quiet for Brooklyn, anyway, it being a Sunday morning and all. Three days of steady rain didn’t exactly bring people out. It was pouring buckets when I checked, the gutters overflowing. Good thing I’d decided on an in-home workout over going out for a run.

The perfect day to take a little break, I decided as I walked down the hall toward the bathroom. As I went, I peeled off piece after piece of clothing until I was naked by the time I reached the shower.

It had been a long few months, what with training for a fight which had taken place earlier in the week and closing up a case for the private investigative agency I freelanced for on the side. Really, my side job was what paid the bills—that and bounty hunting. Life as an MMA fighter didn’t exactly help rake in the dough, even with my record.

The bruises on my legs and ribs were still visible, though healing. I was careful with them as I washed up, before turning my back to the spray and letting it run over my long, sweat-soaked, blonde hair.

With the fight behind me and my latest case closed up, I had a little bit more mental bandwidth—and because of that, something which had bothered me a hell of a lot before I used my training as an excuse to avoid thinking about it came rushing back to the forefront of my mind.

A quick check of my email once I was dried off confirmed my disappointment.

Still nothing from Tamhas.

Why did I keep hoping? I wished I could forget him. He was just another guy, somebody I met online and formed a weird friendship with. Nothing more than that. We’d never even met in person, though we had talked about it once or twice.

Which was why his sudden disappearance bothered me so much. The fact that we’d talked about possibly meeting up after emailing and eventually chatting on Skype for nearly a year.

I wasn’t exactly the internet dating type, and I had never taken an online friendship offline. But with Tamhas, it had seemed like the natural thing to do. Like, sure, let’s hang out in person so I can get the chance to see if the rest of you is as impressive as you are from the shoulders up.

He’d dropped off the face of the earth after his last email. Months had passed with nothing at all.

I thought about it as I dressed. He never said anything about going off the grid, taking a trip, nothing like that. The most I knew about him was he spoke with a Scottish accent which, thanks to my hormones, made him insanely attractive.

That and the fact that he was intelligent and easy to talk to. Even if he was a little old-fashioned in the way he phrased things sometimes. But compared to the morons I’d known pretty much all my life, he was a refreshing change.

I was so sure he’d reach out at some point during my training, with a story about a sudden move or a crazy family emergency. Something. Anything.

By the time I was finished dressing and had dried my hair, my mind was made up. I went to my laptop, open on the bed, and forwarded the last email he’d sent me to Emelie. If anybody could find out where he’d sent it from, she could. She’d helped me more than once on cases for the agency.

Can you tell me where this email was sent from?

I asked, adding no further information than that. She didn’t know anything about him, though she was practically my sister. We’d shared everything from the day we first met in a foster home when we were both barely out of kindergarten.

But I hadn’t told her about Tamhas. Sometimes, it was nice to have a secret.

When my phone rang with a face chat request from her, maybe thirty seconds later, I wasn’t surprised.

I sank into the armchair by the window before answering, propping the phone up against a stack of books on the sill. “What?”

She was seated at her computer, as always, looking like she’d just pulled one of her legendary all-nighters. “Who is this? Why do you wanna know?”

I shrugged. “Since when do you ask me about things like that?”

“Since this email was sent directly to you and it sounds pretty personal. Not work-related.” She took off her thick-rimmed glasses to rub the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut as she did. “Spill it.”

“He’s just a guy. We were emailing for a while, but I haven’t heard from him since way before I started training for the last fight. I’ve sent him a few messages since then, but no answer. It’s just not like him, is all.”

“Hmm.” She smirked a little, clearly enjoying this. “All right. A guy you have a crush on ghosted you. That’s all you had to say.”

“I don’t have a crush on him. Jesus.” But I was blushing. I could see myself in the little window in the corner of the screen.

“Sure, sure. I wonder what he’s gonna do when a badass MMA fighter-slash-bounty hunter shows up at his door.” She giggled.

“I’m not going to show up at his door! Listen, he’s a nice guy, and I’m genuinely concerned for him. I can’t tell you why. I just am. You know how it is.”

She nodded without reply, because she did know. I’d been able to tell when something was wrong since we were kids. I had instincts sharper than most adults. Those instincts served me well in my side jobs.

“How did you say you met this guy again?” Emelie glanced at me through the phone as her fingers flew over her keyboard. I could hear the tap-tap-tapping.

“I didn’t.”

She snickered. “I know. That’s why I’m asking, smartass.”

“I was doing research. Remember about a year ago when I was working for that client who had his collection broken into?”

“Oh, yeah. The old weapons and stuff.”

I rolled my eyes. Old weapons and stuff. “Yeah, right. Medieval Scottish weapons. Worth a fortune. No big deal.”

“So, what, this guy you’re looking for was an expert or something?”

“You could say that. I mean, he seemed to know his stuff. And he was from Scotland, so…” I shrugged. “It seemed more legit, I guess. He was a treasure trove of information.”

She snorted, eyes on her monitor. “For a private eye, it doesn’t take much for a complete stranger to pass your verification.”

I sighed, shaking my head. “It’s hard for me to explain. And I know it sounds stupid now, but in the moment—and when we got to know each other better—I got a good feeling about him. He seemed like a nice guy, a decent guy. Genuine. Not like some fake internet troll creep. You know?”

“So, you two kept talking after he helped you with your research.”

“Right. You know how it is.”

“No. How is it?”

“Oh, my God. Shut up. You mean you never started a friendship with somebody online?”

She laughed. “Sorry. I’m just busting your balls.”

“You’re being a real pain in the ass.”

“I said I was sorry.” She looked over at me from the monitor. “I really do wanna know what happened and why you want to find this guy so badly.”

I couldn’t explain why I wanted to find him. That was the problem. There weren’t any words I could put together that would make sense. She would never understand.

“Did you ever just get a feeling about somebody?” I asked, drawing my feet up on the chair, leaning my chin on my knees. “I mean, we talked online for months. We even started video chatting, but that didn’t last long before he disappeared.”

“Ooh, what’s he look like?”

My heart skipped a beat when I brought his face to mind. “He’s pretty cute. Really cute. I could never get a good look at his eyes, but he has this gorgeous, dark hair, maybe some dark red in it. His face is all chiseled, really well-defined profile and ugh, cheekbones I would kill for. And he’s got a great body—I mean, just from the shoulders up, I could tell. You know what I mean. For a minute there, I thought he might be a professional fighter.”

“One more thing for you two to have in common.”

“Exactly. But he isn’t. I asked. It’s the only specific question I ever asked, now that I think about it.”

“Why didn’t you ask more than that?”

“Because he seemed a little standoffish when I did. Like he didn’t want to answer. And yes, I know that seems shady,” I added,when she opened her mouth like she was about to point it out, “but sometimes, people want to maintain their privacy. I’m the same way. He doesn’t know anything about what I do, either.”

“Didn’t you want to tell him?”

Yes, I had. I wanted to tell him all kinds of things about me, which was why I hadn’t. “You can’t be too careful online. We both know this.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Who knows if this guy was a crazy stalker or something?”

I knew he wasn’t, but there was no sense in arguing with Emelie about it. She just didn’t get it.

“How’s it going?” I asked instead.

She frowned. “Not so great. This is pretty strange stuff.”

I lifted my head. “Strange how?”

“Strange as in this isn’t a straightforward task. You know me. I can generally find anybody. It’s not that difficult—unless a person makes it difficult.”

“You’re saying he made it difficult?”

“I’m saying somebody—either this guy of yours or the owner of the server he’s using—took pains to make it damned near impossible to find them.” She leaned in a little closer to the monitor, squinting, typing faster than ever.

I watched for a little bit, fascinated that she even knew the first thing about what she was doing. It was always a mystery to me, that behind-the-scenes world.

I could either tell her to back down and respect his privacy, or I could encourage her to keep going because every roadblock in my way made the prospect of finding out who he was even more intriguing. Why did I care so damned much? I was an adult woman, aware of the world. I knew what it meant to ghost somebody. It happened all the time, every day.

If I had been ghosted, it was really no big deal. Tamhas was nothing more than a face on a screen, some characters in an email which even I was savvy enough to understand translated into nothing more than a bunch of 0s and 1s in computer code.

So why did I care about finding him?

Why were my instincts screaming at me, insisting this was more than just a case of ghosting?

I was silent for a long while, watching her work as my brain went wild with questions. It was better to let her do her thing in silence. Not like I’d understand a damned thing she told me, anyway.

“Hang on,” she whispered, eyes darting back and forth over the screen.

“What is it?”

“This is weird… yeah, this is very weird… aren’t you the smarty-pants?” she whispered, a smile spreading across her face. “Damn, they’re good. Very good. But not as good as me.”

“You found something?” And why did my heart leap with joy?

“I think so. I mean, this is thick, babe. Lots of layers.” She typed a few characters, then a few more. “I mean, proxy servers, rerouting through several different countries—Libya, Russia, Thailand, Brazil…”

Goosebumps covered my arms. Who was this guy that he needed all these layers of security?

“I’m still uncovering more information,” she muttered as she pushed up the sleeves of her oversized sweater until they were well past her elbows. I knew that gesture. She was just getting warmed up and was ready to dig in full-force.

“You know, if you have other things to do…” I murmured, feeling a little guilty all of a sudden.

If I had known it would be like something out of a cybercrime movie, like some James Bond-level stuff, I wouldn’t have asked. Just like me, Emelie always had more than enough work to keep her busy.

She shot me a look, and I was familiar with it as well. Her “are you crazy?” look.

“Are you crazy?” she asked. “Like I’m gonna let this go now. Oh, no, no, no, girl. I take shit like this personally. Nobody escapes me.”

“You should’ve been a detective,” I chuckled.

“I am a detective, babe. I just don’t carry a gun or a badge. I’ll call you back in a bit when I have answers.” She ended the call before I had the chance to thank her.

I leaned back in my chair with a sigh. I felt defeated, and I hated that feeling. How was I supposed to know that a simple question of where a man was messaging me from would turn into a spy-level event?

What was his deal? He seemed like such a normal person when we talked, which was probably why I gravitated toward him. The only guys I ever met were either bounty hunters, investigators, or fighters.

While those jobs fit my personality and played to my strengths perfectly, that didn’t mean the men who were involved fit my personality one bit. I had no time or patience for meatheads, gym addicts, or workaholics.

I didn’t have much time for anything, really. There was always a fight to train for, a new assignment, some sort of goal to turn my focus toward.

Besides. Most of the time I spent around those morons, I was either kicking their asses or pretending not to notice the subtle harassment they threw my way. While that made a good ass-kicking all the more satisfying, it didn’t lend itself to a relationship.

Men in my world tended not to want to date women who they knew could beat them bloody. I guess it was a turn-off.

Emelie was probably still busy with my project, so I got up to make some tea to calm my nerves. Anything to distract myself while I waited. Waiting was always the worst, never something I was good at. The fact that I’d even waited as long as I had to look up Tamhas was a miracle.

The remnants of my last assignment from the agency were still strewn over my kitchen table. A missing persons case, some recently divorced douchebag who thought faking his own death would get him out of paying alimony. The ex-wife’s attorney had contacted the agency for help, and Hank had put me on the job.

An easy one, really, seeing as how the supposedly dead man’s new girlfriend had conveniently booked a one-way trip to a Mexican city not far from the spot where her boyfriend’s boat had capsized. Wouldn’t you know it, a man fitting the physical description of my missing sailboat enthusiast—except for the newly-dyed hair and contacts—had met her at the airport.

Some people were just too stupid to live.

I collected my papers and photos and slid them into a file folder as water heated on the stove. The reminder that there were other people out there who needed finding—creeps like this guy and plenty others—wasn’t lost on me. Tamhas could’ve simply gone on with his life and forgotten about me. Finding him wouldn’t pay my bills.

But I couldn’t let it go. Something was wrong.

And deep down inside, pride had a part in it. I wasn’t too big a person to admit that. If he thought it was okay to ditch me, just give up on a friendship I thought was real, I wanted to know why. He owed me that much.

The screaming of the kettle’s whistle pulled me out of the dark turn my thoughts had taken.

So did the ringing of my phone. I just about jumped to answer it, though my heart sank a little when I saw that it was Hank calling.

“A Sunday morning phone call,” I said as I sighed when I answered. “Always a joy.”

“Sunday is just another day of the week,” he was quick to remind me. One of his many favorite sayings. Always making sure I remembered that he worked straight through the week with the implication that I should, too.

“Sure, sure. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just got a call for what I think is going to be a pretty big job. Should take at least a few weeks, between you and the others I’ll bring in for it. But of course, you’re the first one I’m calling.”

I rolled my eyes, but just a little. “You flatter me.” I dunked a tea bag into a mug of steaming water, imagining dunking certain parts of my boss into it instead. Not that Hank was really and truly my boss. I freelanced. I was my own boss. He hooked me up with the right jobs as they came in.

“You’re the one who didn’t believe our last guy really went down with that boat,” he reminds me. “And you looked at the girlfriend right away. Even when I didn’t think it was worth spending the time, you watched her.”

Yes, and he had more than a few choice opinions to share when I insisted we stay on her trail even when it seemed like the case was going nowhere. He conveniently left that part out.

“I’m a genius. What can I say?” My eyes flitted over to where the last case’s folder sat on the table.

Did I really want to go through another case while still wondering where Tamhas was? Once Emelie found him—and I knew she’d find him, that was never a question—what would I do? Why did I want her to look, if the endgame wasn’t to find him myself, personally, and twist his nuts a little?

So to speak.

“Hello?” Hank’s question was sharp. “Earth to Keira. Where are you, gorgeous?”

I bristled at the pseudo-compliment. Men just didn’t get it. “I’m here.”

“Well? Are you ready for a new job, or what? I have other calls I need to make.”

I drew a deep breath. “You know what? I don’t think so. Not right now.”