Chapter Thirty-One

Jacob

The dead started to blend together. I didn’t think we knew how to stop. Over the coming weeks, we didn’t kill only one. No, we killed many. Some we researched, others not so much. But we believed each and every one of them deserved falling under my blades. We took pimps and drug dealers. Gang members and patients—so many dark patients of Alana’s who needed our sort of retribution.

And the darkness between us swelled.

But we should have been more careful.

“Reports are stating this is one of the worst epidemics in missing persons from the area in over three decades. Statistically—” I stopped listening to the newscaster as a knock sounded on Alana’s door.

“You expecting company?” My voice was barely above a whisper. I slid on silent feet from the bed I was sharing with Alana and tiptoed to the windows. There was an unmarked car outside. “It’s the police.”

She was already getting up, tossing my black t-shirt over her naked form. I hated the fact I couldn’t see my brand on her ribs but loved that she was in my clothing. She looked sexy and bed-tousled like that.

“Might be about the missing cases,” she stated. “We’ve been a bit heavy-handed.”

I shrugged. “It happens, but maybe they’re not here for that. Could be routine if any of the missing persons show up on your lists of clients.”

“I won’t know until I’ve talked to them. Follow on the stairs and stay within earshot. I want to make sure we both hear what they have to say.”

My heart thudded in my chest. We were a pair in this, always, and she trusted me. We killed, tortured, and loved together with no apology. For the first time, the hell of my past didn’t seem so bad. At least with her I had a reason for living, someone to understand me and love me despite the fucked-up hell deep inside me. Maybe we would have been too different if my father hadn’t snatched her, but I was selfish enough to see I would have never been free. I shouldn’t have been happy she’d been taken, but I fucking was.

“Good evening, Ms. Winters, we understand it’s late. I am Detective Monroe, and this is my partner Detective Jackson. Would it be okay if we asked you a few questions?”

“Gentlemen, this would have been better at my office. You’ve caught me at a time when I’m not exactly presentable.”

“We understand,” Jackson said, “and we hate to do it, but the boss is jumping down our necks about the abundance of missing persons, and we are trying to make heads or tails of things.”

“Oh,” Alana said. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe, my t-shirt riding up her thighs. The pose was provocative, but her expression was all business and concern. Both detectives, though, didn’t miss an opportunity to ogle her legs.

She’s mine, assholes.

“My guess, since you’re at my door, is that some of my clients’ alleged victims are on your list?”

“Not quite. More like several of your clients. May we come in?”

Alana nodded her head, that same concerned expression on her face. “Please do.”

She backed away from the door, and I slid back along the wall toward the bedroom. The stairs blocked me from view downstairs, but I could still hear. The open floor plan of her house could make this tricky though.

“I know it may be a crazy question, but are you on TV or something?” Jackson waited for Alana’s answer with a calculated stare.

Alana shifted. “No, why?”

“You look familiar that’s all. Like I’ve seen you before. Oh well,” he said, shaking his head. Bu he hair on my arm rose. Who the fuck was he?

“I want to put something on. Can you wait here?” She pointed to her main living area. The detectives nodded and sat down obediently. I knew they wouldn’t stay there once she left the room, but I could keep an eye on them, and I knew she had a reason for doing it. Besides, it helped that everything we did was kept at the warehouse. They wouldn’t find anything here.

She padded by me quickly, put on a bra, pants, and came back out of the bathroom. She showed me our phones and put hers on record. Then she did the same to mine and laid it on the counter.

“Keep an eye out while this records. We don’t want to miss anything,” she said quietly. I didn’t have time to do much more than nod before she was heading back downstairs.

“Thank you for waiting, gentlemen.”

They hadn’t waited. They’d pawed over her mantle, a bit over the books and magazines on her coffee table, and paced around the floor looking for things. Monroe had even tried the locked door of her library. But at least now they were back in their seats, acting like good little cops.

“Now, who do you have questions about? You do understand I am under client-doctor privilege and there are some things I may not be able to talk to you about.”

“We understand that. This is more of a cursory investigation. We want to get to know these victims and see what we can find out about them.”

I swallowed a snort. Those fucking bastards weren’t victims, they were predators, like Alana and me. We’d been stronger than them in the end.

“Okay, ask away.”

“What sort of client was Donovan Miller?”

Shit.

“Mr. Miller was a public defender, well put together, young but charismatic.”

“That’s all we can find out from his friends and family.”

“Then ask the questions you want to know, Detective. I can only answer what I’m given, within the bounds of my code.”

“He was seeing you after several allegations of rape from ex-girlfriends, is that correct?”

“That is correct.” She didn’t say more, and the way Jackson chewed on his lip, I’m guessing he expected her to.

“Who would want to hurt him?”

“Probably quite a few people, if you look at his record. But what makes you think he’s missing? He sometimes takes long trips between cases when he can. He’s attempting to start his own firm, from what I understand.”

“Because he missed an interview with the prosecutor’s office, and from what we have learned, he was obsessed with working there. He also hasn’t shown up to speak with any of his clients, to his office, or contacted any of his friends.”

“Hmm, that’s not like him.”

“Are you sure you’ve never been on TV?” Jackson pressed.

I didn’t like that bastard at all. Why the fuck did he keep harping on that?

Alana was good. Damn good. She frowned appropriately and paced her room as if she were thinking. She answered questions and deflected them when she couldn’t betray her client. She was magnificent and sharp, but there were three victims on her client list from our recent spree, and that made the cops think of something else.

“Do you believe this could have something to do with you, Ms. Winters?” Monroe’s gaze was pointed, and I shifted.

“I’m not exactly sure what this has to do with me. I mean, with my sort of occupation, we deal with clients who lash out and make threats. It goes with the territory. But I haven’t been attacked or faced anything threatening.”

“Ah,” Jackson interrupted, snapping his fingers. “I know where I’ve seen you. It wasn’t on TV, but your story was looked into it while I was in the Academy. You’re Alana Masters, the survivor of Elliot VanDuyn, right?”

Alana tensed, the first time her mask of perfection had slipped. I saw the fear and rage flush in her eyes and the slow way she turned on him. Monroe didn’t miss a thing. His keen eyes were measuring as she spun on Jackson and spoke to him with a coldness she hadn’t had before.

“How would you know anything about that?”

I cursed under my breath. She was going to break if I didn’t get down there. This was unexpected, and her time with my father was a touchy subject for her, no matter how long ago it happened. Thinking quickly, I put on a robe to hide my brands and snuck into the bedroom. Once there, I made noise getting out of the bed and heading to the restroom. A few seconds later, I flushed the toilet and headed out of the bathroom, toward the stairs, rubbing my tired face.

“Baby? Where are you?”

“I’m in the living room,” she said, but the ice was still there.

Fuck. I padded down the stairs and stutter-stepped when I saw the police looking me over.

“Who are you?” Then I looked at her. “What’s wrong?” I ignored them as I pulled her into my arms and kissed the nape of her neck. Then I dug my nails into her sides and nipped her skin. A reminder. A punishment. The only one able to hurt her, to punish her, was me. Fuck what these cops said. They didn’t have the power to touch her.

“This is Detective Monroe and Detective Jackson. They wanted to ask a few questions about my clients.”

“Is that what had you upset?” I looked only at her and thumbed her cheek. Fuck them. I could kill them right now for her if she asked. If they were bothering her, I would remove them. I think she saw it in my eyes. She smiled, her body losing some of the coldness as she sank into me.

“Brought up the past.”

Finally, I looked over at them. “I’ll be dealing with nightmares the rest of the night now. Is there a reason you brought up something so traumatic when inquiring about missing persons?”

Jackson had the nerve to look sheepish, but Monroe simply shrugged. “My partner didn’t think before he asked about it. But Ms. Masters—”

“Winters,” I interrupted.

“I’m sorry?”

“You called her Ms. Masters. You know she changed her name to Nila Winters. It’s why you asked about it,” I argued.

“My apologies, Mr …?” Monroe’s words trailed off.

“Daniels,” I answered. I took his proffered hand and shook it. “Mason Daniels.”

The detective stared at me a moment, wheels turning in his head. His partner’s gaze narrowed, but after a moment, he shrugged.

“How long have you and Ms. Winters been dating?”

“I’m wondering about the relevance of these questions,” Alana interrupted. “I do not believe my clients’ missing status has something to do with them being my clients.”

“No, but it could be because they were your clients,” Monroe stated. “You know, there are a lot of angry groupies after the VanDuyn case. Many thought you deserved to face charges. Have you thought maybe someone from your past caught up with you and is doing things in retaliation for that?”

“It would be hard for someone to find about that. My name was redacted from everything because I was a minor when things happened originally, even though I was an adult when I escaped. Then, I had my name changed and was given a new lease on life to start over without all of that in my history. Most didn’t know I had that in my past. Even background checks couldn’t have pulled that up. Not without FBI clearance, as I was in a protection program,” Alana argued.

“You’re right,” Monroe said. “We never said we were from the CPD. Perhaps reintroductions are in order. Special Agent Monroe and Jackson, FBI, Chicago field office.”

“I think you gentlemen need to leave. You came in under false pretenses, as you stated you were local detectives and not FBI agents. You stopped asking me questions about the missing persons and focused on my past. Until you have a warrant, do not return,” Alana said.

“That can be easily arranged. I’ve got Judge Sovern on speed dial. Should I contact him?” Monroe added.

“Sure, I’ll be happy to speak to him,” Alana returned.

“Call who you like, gentlemen, but tonight you are going to leave,” I added. They stared at us a minute but finally made to leave.

Jackson turned at the door. “There are more than three patients you’ve dealt with, Ms. Winters, that have gone missing in the last few years. Expect to see us again.”

“I have nothing to hide,” Alana said. The door slammed as they left, and Alana spun on me in a rage. I let her leap on me and attack me. Let her anger sizzle over my nerve endings from the bite of her nails digging into my skin and her teeth muffling her screams. I let her get it all out of her system as I gripped her through it.

“I need to kill again,” she whispered hoarsely into my throat.

“Alana, it might be too soon.”

“I need it, Jacob. I need to get rid of the rage. I need to break something, to remind myself your father didn’t break me. That I haven’t fallen all over again.”

How exactly was I supposed to deny the woman of my heart the chance to get what she needed? How could I tell her I wouldn’t give her anything her heart desired, even if it sent us burning up in smoke together.

I couldn’t.

I sighed and gave in. “They may look harder at you afterward.”

“And we’ll make them disappear if they do.”

“A big flare-up, right there, killing cops.”

“Jacob, I need it. Please.”

Fuck me, I couldn’t say no. Even when I knew it was fucking crazy.

“All right. Choose one.”