Page 108 of The Kingpin's Call Girl

She smiles up at me. “Mary is the bravest person you could ever meet. A total free spirit who loves music, especially all that nineties stuff, and an amazing artist. She used to draw tiny animals on everything—little mice and rabbits and possums. Unicorns if I begged her. And she’s so resourceful. We had a hard time growing up, but she was there for me when Mom was checked out, which was kind of always toward the end.”

She describes little games Mary would invent, candies and sparkly jewelry she would procure, and the dinners she’d make out of three sad ingredients.

“She ended up being my mother and making our life livable. She sacrificed her childhood for me, and I didn’t even realize it. I should’ve paid attention.”

“You can’t take that kind of thing on yourself,” I say firmly, leaving no room for argument. “You were doing the best you could.”

She makes a little sound. She’s not so sure. Or maybe she doesn’t trust me now. I wouldn’t blame her.

I test the water with my hand, gauging it with expert precision. “Too hot?”

She swishes her hand around in it. “It seems good.”

“Come on, then,” I say softly but decisively. I slide my suit coat over her arms, my fingers deft and sure.

“Are you coming in with me?”

“This is just for you.” I help her with the rest of her clothes, taking care to avoid touching her arm but watching her with protective eyes all the while.

“It’s not like it’s broken,” she says at one point. “It’s really fine.”

I fix her with a look that silences further protest.

I kiss her shoulder. Her skin is soft, and of course, I would love nothing more than to consume her on every level. But I stay with the caring shit, outrageous as it is coming from a man like me.

The lion caring for the mouse, which, again, would never happen in nature, but it’s happening now because we’re different. We’re more than that. It’s wrong, but there it is.

The lion can’t get enough of the mouse, though she’s hardly a mouse.

She sinks more deeply into the water, surrendering to my care, looking more relaxed than I’ve seen her look... possibly ever.

“I have this dream for me and Mary. Or I shouldn’t call it a dream. It’s more like a plan where I find her and pull her out of whatever hell she’s got herself into. I get her into rehab, and once I have my teaching license, we live in a little seaside house and help each other. And we’ll grow flowers in the window boxes and things like that.”

Rescuing her sister. I’d expect nothing less of her.

She’s calm enough now to give me some halfway-decent details. “So what does this guy look like?”

She regards me warily.

“Don’t worry,” I promise. “I’ll get your sister home first. Then I’ll deal with him.”

She seems to relax at this. “He has short, dark wavy hair. He’s about your height but wide. His shoulders are really wide, and his eyes are dark brown and also really wide. His neck and arms are super thick. Like he might be a wrestler or something.”

“That’s good.” I test the water again, my movements controlled and deliberate. “Distinguishing marks?”

“Umm... he has a small white scar on his chin.” She narrows her eyes. “He’s a bad shaver; seems like he always has a shaving nick. That’s not a very good description.”

“Anything else stand out? Birthmark? Tattoo? Limp?” I press, mentally cataloging each detail like the predator I am.

There’s not much to go on with this guy, but she tries her best.

“What sorts of things did he want to know about me?” I ask, my jaw tightening.

“At first he just wanted me to report anything Iheard—names, dates. He’s desperate to know where you’ve been all this time, like all the years after you disappeared.”

“You didn’t tell him... any of it?”

“No way. That’s your story,” she says. “And when I told him that you didn’t want to see me anymore, he was pretty upset. He wanted me to do one last thing where I show up at your restaurant and start quizzing you on what languages you speak and why you came back. He really wants to know why you killed your brother the way you did. Oh, and I’m supposed to get a strand of your hair—complete with the root.”

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