Page 48 of Hard Game

“No!” She looks around desperately, and I wish I could call Tassa to help me.

There’s only one other woman I can call, but she’d take one look at two dead men, and I’d be sent down for a very long time. I exhale through my nose and roll back to my ass, giving her what I hope is a warm smile. “Look, I need to get you out of here. My truck isn’t far away, and if we don’t move fast, the others will come looking for you.” I gazed at the two men, and she followed my eyes. “For them. You’re worth a lot of money to them, so they’ll come.”

This seems to soothe her, and she waves a hand at her feet. “Untie these!” She’s shivering, and they’ve ziptied her feet well and good.

“I can’t, I need scissors.” I rise to my feet and lean down, holding my hands out. “I’ll carry you and drive you straight to the ER. I know you don’t trust me, but your other option is staying here until they come.”

She nods warily, wincing when I lift her into my arms. She’s choosing between two criminals in her mind: a strange man who killed her abusers—or her abusers.

I was always going to win that one.

“Trust me,” I whisper, sure to keep her close. I don’t want to lose her to hyperthermia, not now. “I’ve got you.”

25

LAUREN

“His wife reported him missing an hour ago.”

I somehow managed to keep my composure throughout the emergency meeting in Carmen’s office, even though I felt like I had stripped off my clothes and had ‘murderer’ tattooed on my chest in a bright red scrawl. Detectives and officers scribbled things down on pads, and I saw Elijah doing the same. My hands were trembling too much to pick up a damn pen, but when I saw Carmen watching me closely, I dropped my head into my hands.

I can’t do this.

Maybe it would be easier to confess—to tell Carmen that I knew Taron was dead, who killed him, where, and how. Nervous laughter leaves my lips at the thought, and twelve heads turn to me in wide-eyed surprise.

“The fuck?” Someone mutters, giving me the evil eye.

“Some ex she is,” another mutters, until Elijah stares at them menacingly, one at a time. The whispers soon stop.

The meeting is adjourned, and I go to follow Elijah out of the office when Carmen calls my name, stopping me in my tracks. A snake of sweat slithers down my spine, and ice cold washes over me as I turn back, noticing Elijah stopping, too.

Thank God for Elijah.

“I don’t recall saying your name, Detective Jonewood,” Carmen says drily, giving him a strange look. “But fine, whatever.”

I swallow, and Elijah stands as close to me as he can without making it obvious he’s supporting me, his arm pressing against mine. It’s like he’s screaming that he’s there for me, and I don’t think I’ve ever loved him more.

“I saw how you were during the meeting.” Carmen gazes at me, and I feel every bit of color drain from my face. My ears ring, and I feel lightheaded until she says, “I know it can’t be easy for you, with him being your ex-boyfriend.”

I blink. “No,” I say, unsure if she’s being serious or not.

“I don’t expect you to join the search if you feel you can’t,” Carmen continues, frowning at me. “As you know, in a missing person’s case, we don’t always find them alive.”

I still, daring to glance at Elijah staring solemnly ahead, his face giving nothing away. Carmen is worried about me finding Taron’s body. I clear my throat, pray my voice is trustworthy, and say, “I’ll be fine.”

“Well, I know you and Detective Jonewood are deep in the dead women’s case.” Carmen peers at us both before relaxing back into her chair. “I’d like it to stay that way.”

Wow. She doesn’t want us looking for Taron? I guess the rest of the force will be looking, but still…I’m surprised.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Elijah says. “We feel like we’re getting somewhere.”

Carmen sighs and picks up the paperwork on her desk, sliding her reading glasses on. “Well, I hope you’re right, Detective. Because if women keep getting killed at this rate, there won’t be many Lockwood women left.” She grimaces and looks at me, realizing what she’s said.

Not many Lockwood women left.

Like my sister, born and bred in Lockwood, she was still missing, according to the law that was supposed to serve and protect her. Taron knew. Did he know throughout our entire relationship that Sara had been trafficked? Probably. Did he care? No. Because if he did, there would be no way in the world he would’ve kept me and my father in the dark. Thoughts of my father’s hopeful face fill my mind, and my stomach lurches.

I still need to tell my father.

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