Page 34 of Marked

Today, she might have her baby back in her arms.

“Yo. What do you have?” Cole asked, his voice still gravelly.

She quickly filled their cups then grabbed creamer from the fridge and slid the sugar canister closer to their mugs.

Pressing her hands against the smooth quartz so her body would stop shaking, she studied Cole’s expression. He was probably the least-animated person she’d ever seen, his expression mostly landing on brooding.

Reading him was impossible.

He stood, grabbed a pen and a pad of paper from one of the drawers, and jotted something down. “Where’s that?” A few seconds passed. “Right. I know where it is. How solid is this?”

She brought her thumbnail to her teeth and chewed.

“Holy shit. You serious? Good, then I’m glad we’ve got this.”

Another stretch of silence while Cole’s brother spoke. Sophia’s body would spring on the spot if he didn’t get off the damn phone and fill her in soon.

“Nah, I’ll handle it. I’ll let you know.” He clicked off and set down his device.

“Well? What’d he say?”

Cole’s expression turned grim. “Look, some of this is going to be tough for you to hear and not take back to your chief. I need to know you’re not going to screw this up.”

Indignation bubbled beneath her skin. “I told you I’m committed to doing this without the police, and I am.”

Something sparked in his eyes. Appreciation? “Good. Because I have the name of the guy who’s now leading Lionsgate’s trafficking ring. His shop opens in a few hours.”

He handed her a slip of paper and she stared down at the name of a tattoo joint downtown, one of the most popular in Seattle. “You’re sure about this?”

“Nash said if this lead is wrong then we’ve got nothing. But he thinks it’s pretty solid.”

She gave one nod. “Good. Let’s bust him.”

***

Normally it took only minutes for Cole to shake the effects of the reoccurring dream. But today, it clung to the outskirts of his mind. A constant reminder of his childhood.

Why?

It wasn’t even a dream, really, but a damn memory of the day he’d almost drowned. The day he should have died. Instead, Dallas had pulled him from the lake. He’d had the dream many times since the event, but not in recent years. Why the fuck had it come back after so long? Because he’d been a helpless little kid, like Bella?

That had to be it.

Even worse, the memories made him edgy. He’d snapped at Sophia, and that bugged him more than it should. She’d be in a constant state of panic until her kid was found. Least he could do was not jump down her throat.

The nap had rejuvenated Sophia’s face. Or maybe it was the tip Nash had secured. Her eyes were brighter, her skin less sallow, her shoulders not as hunched. She leaned over and placed her coffee cup in the sink.

He needed a shower to wash off the remnants of the slimy, imaginary seaweed. “The tattoo parlor doesn’t open for a couple of hours. I’m going to shower. Then we can grab a bite on the way?”

She wrinkled her nose. The expression was cute. “I’m not hungry.”

“You keep saying that.”

She chuckled and the sound rang in the air, so light and uplifting.

Christ, this lead better pull through. If he had to tell Sophia they’d failed, that they couldn’t get Bella out before tonight... no. That wasn’t something he could do.

“And you keep insisting that I eat.”

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