Page 61 of Secrets

The words slip free, and when they do, I know it’s too late to take them back. In fact, the notion that one day I’ll have to tell this woman everything and pray she stays only burrow in deeper, wrapping around my heart like barbed wire.

Jessica leans down, her lips so close to mine I can taste the mint on her breath. “And what is your type of justice, Elena?”

My eyes move back and forth between hers, the temptation to be honest so she can see me—the real me—so great I almost tell her the truth. But the sharp cut of the wire digs in and I realize with a sickening ache I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready to potentially lose her.

So instead of saying that I like my justice at the bottom of The Savannah River, I keep it simple. “Absolute.”

* * *

It’sten minutes past midnight when the sound of a text shatters the thin veil of silence that’s covered my studio.

Normally, I wouldn’t mind Jessica receiving a message so late, but with how heavy my chest is from learning about everything that happened to her, I can’t ignore the grating against my nerves. The persistent tapping of a warning that yearns to be heeded.

Without giving it much thought, I slip my hand from around Jessica’s waist, careful not to disturb her as I maneuver out of the bed.

I find the phone in a pile of her clothes not too far from the couch and am quick to type in the code—a number I learned on our second date from simple observation.

Fikey Fikes 12:09

There was a tip that came through while I was still at the office with information on the men who attacked you. We have a known location. Want me to send it to your uncle?

My brows furrow as I read the message over again.

From my understanding, this Fikes person is a trainee to be a forensic psychologist. What business would he have receiving tip information? Not only that, but if by some coincidence he had, why wouldn’t he immediately take it to his superiors? Instead, he sent the information to Jessica. The hotheaded victim who might go confront the attackers herself.

The notion that this man may have his own agenda prompts me to test it out with a quick text. A second later he replies and he’s just made himself my next target.

I’m quick to get dressed, fury and adrenaline making me clumsy in the dark room. But within minutes I’m dressed, have the required tools, and have Ben on the phone before leaving the shop.

There’s a new type of feeling twisting through me that I can’t quite understand, but I know these men won’t simply be for Mother Nature that I kill them.

They’ll be for pleasure.

When Jessica wakes, I’m in the middle of pouring her a cup of coffee.

The moan that accompanies her stretch echoes around the studio, bouncing off the walls and soaking into my skin, garnering a wide grin from my lips.

“Good morning, Agent.” I turn, lifting the mug in the air as she peels her eyes open. “I trust you slept well?”

Her smile is bright, illuminating those eyes of hers in a way that makes me want to crawl back in bed and get lost in them. “The best shut-eye of my life.”

“And how are you feeling?” I snag the small bottle of pills from where she left them last night and twist open the cap, depositing two in my palm.

“Enough for a couple of those.”

I huff, filling her a small glass of water as well. “Better than the dose you took last night.”

“This is true.” Jessica sits up, wincing as she does. “So there’s progress.”

A small wave of anger attempts to surge in my stomach at the pain I know she’s still in, but I find solace knowing those responsible are currently floating down the river.

I bring her the medicine, watching her pop them both to the back of her throat before handing her the glass to wash them down.

“I’ll let you get up and get situated, and in the meantime, make you some breakfast. Over-easy eggs with smashed avocado on sourdough sound alright?”

“You never want to get rid of me, do you?”

Hooking my finger under her chin, I lift her delicate face, my eyes boring into her with a seriousness I want her to feel in her soul. “Never.”

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