Page 8 of Pack Coffey

"What can't I see?" I ask him.

Walking over to the board, he points at photos of a small piece of material under each girl's name. "These were forced down each one of their throats before he strangled them. Once they were no longer alive, their bodies were all sexually assaulted."

The disgust burning a hole in my gut is nothing akin to the fear that races through my veins. It's so similar, but different than before. It can't be the same as before, because he's locked away.

I open my mouth to say, what exactly, I don't know, but nothing comes out.

"Need a break?" Saint asks.

Ignoring him, I walk over to stand next to him so that I can get a better look at the bottom photos. They're of their arms and legs.

"They weren't bound," I whisper, knowing he's close enough to hear.

When I glance up at him, it's to find him watching me, and I say the awful thing gnawing at me, "They knew him, Saint."

"What if he was holding them at gunpoint?" he counters.

I shake my head slowly. It's another gut feeling that I have. Just like the one that's damn certain it's a man. "Then why didn't he shoot them? This was personal. He wanted them to be the last thing he thought of when they took their last breath looking at death in the face."

He nods. "I agree."

The room goes silent for a few minutes, making my chest tight the more the thoughts ramble around in my brain.

"I think that's enough for today," he says gently.

I told him that I'd tell him when it got to be too much, but I'm not going to argue with him right now. Maybe he's trained to see it. I let him lead me back out into the hallway, shutting the door behind us and locking what's left of those girls inside.

He replies to a few people that greet him, but doesn't go out of his way to introduce me to any of them. I'm so grateful for that small thing that I could hug him. Waiting until we're both in his SUV again, he says, "Want to go to lunch with me?"

"I'm not hungry," I reply slowly.

Nodding, he tells me, "Another coffee then. Speaking from experience, it's not good to be alone after experiencing the woes of this job for the first time."

I look over at him, seeing the dark circles underneath his own eyes and the worry creases on his forehead. This alpha cares more than he lets people see. It doesn't change the fact that I justwant to be alone right now.

"Okay," he finally concedes. "You have my number if you need to talk about anything."

"I'll use it if I need to," I promise him. "I've got to go to work tonight, so that'll go a long way in helping get my mind off things for a while."

His brows crease. "I didn't realize you had a job, too, on top of school."

"It's new," I confess. "An internship that I just started this weekend."

We pull into my driveway, but before I can step out, he asks, "I know this is going to sound weird and completely inappropriate, but can I smell you?"

A smile breaks across my face. "Detective Saint, I do believe thatis inappropriate.Unless you tell me why."

"There's something about your scent today that is driving me crazy," he confesses.

My heart does a pitter-patter in my chest. I'm not sure whether it's a good thing or a bad thing, but I don't want to say no. So, I don't. Scooting closer, I move my body to face him and lean my head over to the side. As he comes closer and I can feel his warm breath on the side of my neck, goosebumps break out across my skin and my heartbeat progresses into a roaring beat. His sweet, cinnamon scent fills my senses and buries itself deep down inside of me until I have to stop myself from rubbing my legs together like I want to. I want his mouth on me. I want him to mark me with his scent so other alphas know that I belong to him. Instead of rubbing his face into my neck like I so desperately want him to, his face drops to my shoulder before he's pulling away. I have to fight the whine that's trying to burst out of my throat. All of it doesn't matter, though, as his next words leave me wide-eyed and speechless."

"Lawrence," he says quietly in the space between us. "Doyou know Lawrence?"

When I can find my voice, I clear it and tell him, "Yeah. I'm interning at the radio station he works at."

He huffs out a short laugh and sits back in his seat. "I knew I recognized it. Couldn't place it because you smell distractingly delicious and it almost hides it."

My face flushes and he's quick to apologize. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me. It's just been driving me crazy all day. And everything makes sense now."

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