Page 60 of Stalker

I’d spent time going over the file offered by Mr. Wells. Too much time. I’d become so absorbed in the material that I’d lost track of day turning into night. I’d taken my work home with me, fascinated by the limited story I’d already pieced together.

The boys had been stripped from their home, their last name eliminated. The supposed experts in the system had attempted to protect them by hiding their true identities. But they’d been uncreative in their methods, using their mother’s maiden name. Didn’t they guess eventually the boys’ true identities would be discovered or did they simply not give a damn?

My bet was on the latter.

Perhaps the administrator of the program had believed the children would be adopted easily given their ages. But that hadn’t occurred. They’d been in a group home for several months before one by one they’d been given to people in the foster system.

From what I’d been able to piece together, there were still some people who acted as if they cared, taking in multiple children for the money provided for the child’s care. While records had been kept of the changes over the years, the multiple homes the kids had been forced into, the notations had become shorter and less detailed as time had gone on.

What I hadn’t spent but so much time on was the father. Just seeing the single picture of the man in shackles after he’d been captured had kept me from digging. His eyes were dark, full of control, and cold as ice.

Completely devoid of humanity.

Even now as I thought about everything I’d read, I shivered from a strange feeling of anxiety. The man was behind bars, yet what if his legacy had continued in three boys who’d had no choice about the family they’d been born into?

A strange noise dragged my attention back to the moment. I tried my best to push aside what I’d learned. But the images remained vivid, what few there were.

I was vaguely cognizant I’d ordered a glass of wine, my mind so preoccupied I wasn’t certain if I’d ordered red or white.

Red, the color of blood.

God! I couldn’t get the damning photograph of the boy’s mother lying in a pool of blood out of my mind.

“Everything looks so glamorous,” Josie said as soon as a waiter brought our drinks.

“And the Waldorf Astoria,” Penny said, sighing as she glanced around the room. “Look at all the beautiful people. Every woman who is rich, famous, or highly addicted to sex is here.”

I almost spit out a sip of my merlot, giving her a harsh look. “You’re terrible.”

“It’s true. Look at these women. They are practically foaming at the mouth with anticipation.”

Both Josie and I surveyed the guests. There were at least three hundred women and a few token men sitting at the various round tables. Everything was draped in red and gold as if this was a Valentine’s Day event. If it had been, I definitely wouldn’t be here. I hated the holiday more than any other. With hundreds of balloons and glitter everywhere, I envisioned how long it would take for the staff to clean the room.

With the anticipated prices in the thousands, I could only imagine how much the charity would glean from the illustrious event.

“I can’t believe you managed to drag me out to this,” I said gruffly, more uncomfortable than I’d been in…

A flash memory of the hunt rushed into my mind.

The experience was nothing like I’d imagined it would be, over with too quickly. While I’d been scared to death initially, after the werewolf had crept from the darkness and touched me, I’d actually enjoyed the game.

Did the Blackwell Group truly believe that they obtained more qualified employees by testing entirely different skills? Maybe so, given the games they’d designed. From what I’d read, Dark Nights was a spectacular piece of development, using artificial intelligence in a way the competition couldn’t yet compete with. My legal mind had already suggested a need to play and learn the game, but with what time?

I’d ventured into watching the teaser video on the game, easily comprehending why so many were addicted to it. I’d toyed with creating a profile and purchasing a subscription, but knew once I started, my addictive personality would push me to reaching the pinnacle of success.

Like I did with everything else.

I had no idea about the results of the bizarre contest. The wolf had disappeared after leaving me tingling and my pussy throbbing. I’d found the finish easily enough and had had my own personal driver. While still required to wear a blindfold, I’d been allowed a drink. The chatting had begun, and I’d heard similar stories from the other contestants.

Yet not a single person had been afraid of what they’d been put through.

It had all seemed very… strange. And erotic.

That had been two days before and I’d heard nothing from the company since. Not that I’d expected to. I wasn’t a decent submissive candidate and that’s what it appeared they wanted.

Although without learning about the perks, I couldn’t be certain. Everything about the game being played should keep my red flags raised and my feminine hackles ready with claws. I’d convicted two sex traffickers in my career, loving every minute of watching them sweat while losing their empires.

Why should this be any different?

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