“Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!”
“Did you call the hospitals?”
“I called every hospital and shelter from San Antonio to Lubbock, Texas. Hit all the big cities, too. Dallas, Houston, and Austin. She’s not there.”
“Is it possible she just went away?”
I feel the anguish and pain wash over her.
Moving forward, I see her going back time and time again to the police, hospitals, anyone she could think of for help. No one truly willing to come to her aid, even after the missing person’s report was filed.
“Detective Montgomery, this is Lizzie again. I wanted to see what the status of my sister’s case is.”
“I’m sorry. We can’t give you any information.”
“But what about the lead? Someone said there was a 911 call. I need those records, so I can find out where she was.”
“That information is confidential. I’m sorry. We’re doing everything in our power to find out what happened and we’ll continue searching for her.”
“Sure, you will.”
I pull out of her head, watching her as I ask, “What makes you think I had anything to do with what happened to Linda?” Hearing me say her name catches her as off-guard, as it was supposed to. The lines on her forehead tell me she is struggling for the right thing to say.
“Get out of my head. Is there any limit to what you would do to save someone you love?” she asks, raising her chin.
“No.”
“She had been missing for two months. I filed a missing person’s report. We got information from an informant. That information was given to Detective R.A. Montgomery. Sure, the cops had their work cut out for them, as the investigation led to one dead end after another. Witnesses were reluctant to talk because of your gang’s involvement. I was able to get the same information they were collecting and with this tip, I’ve been piecing together pieces of the puzzle to find out what happened to Linda.”
“So you thought breaking and entering in Dark Leopard MC territory was the smartest choice?”
She narrowed her eyes at me, then jabbed a finger in my chest. “Well, the police won’t, so I will. You and your gang don’t scare me. How about you just hand over what you’re hiding and I’ll get out of your life?”
I grab her hands and hold tight enough to keep her from running and loose enough that it won’t show. “What I’m hiding?”
She just out her chin in an act of defiance. “I got ahold of your video. She was standing inside there by that picture, and you or one of your buddies did something to her.”
I sweep her frame, curves but no muscle. “And suppose you find the person responsible. What exactly are you plan on doing?” She’s no longer holding the wound on her side.
“I’m going to kill that motherfucker! Don’t let appearances fool you. You know nothing about me and what I’m capable of.” For just a second, I caught a glimpse of what looked like the eyes of a beautiful black panther looking back at me. There’s only one way to see if my suspicions are correct.
“Show me the cut on your side.” She shows me the area of skin, the marks barely visible now.
Only someone with shifter abilities can heal that fast. I’d love to know what other abilities she has and why she smells like a new shifter.
A strong scent of rage swirls in the air between us. The last thing we need is for either of us to let the animal inside out. We’d only rip each other to shreds. My pride hates to admit it, but she has a valid point. There’s no time to rush into judgements. We are all more than where we live—and what we seem.
“What is it and who gave you this tip?” She tightens her mouth, continuing to stare me down with a gaze as sharp as daggers.
This girl’s one tough nut to crack. She keeps tight-lipped about exactly what’s on that video or where she got it. For all I know, there isn’t a video, but I have to admire she’s unwilling to share with me, playing her cards close to the vest. My job would be to get her out of here, while she can still go in one piece. But something urges me to pull her close and protect her. To right whatever this wrong is. I can’t though. I’ve got my pride.
“Okay, let me explain something to you. We’re not a gang. This isn’t one of those weekly TV dramas you watch sipping your margarita.”
She cocks an unimpressed eyebrow.
I lean an arm against the tree. “I’ll tell you right now, sweetheart. I don’t like the way you’re lumping me and my brothers into this twisted fantasy of yours. You have no proof it was one of my brothers. We’re not going to take the fall for something we didn’t do.”
Her eyes narrow as she stares at me. She raises two fingers on her right hand.
“Two things. One, I’m not your sweetheart. My name is Elizabeth Greystone, you can call me Lizzie. Two, you’re all criminals, aren’t you? Why wouldn’t this be something you’d do?”
Her accusation stings. Not that it isn’t true, but a burn nonetheless, one that hurts enough to elicit my righteous indignation. I make sure to keep her eyes locked on mine as I speak.
I hold up a finger, “One, you need to watch yourself, Lizzie. Two, if you’re going to accuse a man of something; you can at least give him the courtesy of addressing him by his name. It’s Brayden Coleman.” I pause to hold up the appropriate number of fingers as I tick off each point. “Three, to my way of thinking, the world is full of two kinds of men. Those who prey on the weak and ones who don’t. Four, we may be badasses, but we have codes. There are lines we never fucking cross!”
She falters, weighing my defense against whatever she saw in that video.
“Look.
