Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
“Billie, wake up.”
“You need to tell me why, Mom. I have to know why.”
She was fading.
She couldn’t go. “Mom! Why did you leave me?”
She just shook her head, love shining from her face. “Wake up, Billie.”
She said it again and again, her voice growing more firm. Insistent. “Wake up, Billie.”
“Wake up, Billie.” The voice changed, shifting so it was deeper, more masculine, and I jerked upright, trying one last time to reach for her. I crashed against a hard chest. A rough hand cupped the back of my hand, holding me close. “God, Billie. You’re awake.”
Brett.
Brett was holding me. Talking to me.
I clung to him, a deep sob working its way out of my core, up my throat. I let it out as I tipped my head into his chest.
She’d been right there. The answers were so close.
“Billie, you’re okay. You’re safe. You’re safe.”
It was Brett’s voice, but they were my mom’s words. I could hear her speaking through him, and I shuddered against him. Blinking, I pulled back, seeing more clearly. Feeling more clearly too. “What happened?”
It flooded back.
The gas station.
“Do you have the time?”
I repressed another shudder. The stench of death had clung to his hands.
“He used chloroform on you. I was almost too late.”
“Did you get him?” I grasped both of his arms.
The regret appeared even before he shook his head. “I didn’t hear a thing. I’m so sorry, Billie. The music from the gas station was so loud. He’d parked just behind us, to the side so we couldn’t see his vehicle behind the post. He was starting to pick you up when I slammed him.”
“You slammed him?”
His face was grave, his eyes haunted. He reached up, framing my face with his hands. His thumbs rubbed over my cheek, so softly, as if he thought I’d disappear. “I got him, but he dropped you, and I was worried you hit your head.”
“There was a squad car there—”
He shook his head. “Empty. It all happened so fast. By the time I’d checked to make sure you were okay, he’d peeled out. Another guy came running over, so I yelled for him to call 911. I didn’t know the cop was just inside.”
“Did they do a search?”
“Yeah. He was gone by the time anything was organized. Shit, Billie. I’m so fucking sorry.”
There was a knock on the door.
Brett turned to stone, his face hardened.
“Wha…” I looked at the door as it opened. We were in a hospital room. I could hear beeping in the background. A stale stench of disinfectant in the air.
Travis came inside, along with a woman I didn’t know. Dressed in dark slacks, a blue coat, her eyes were bland. She held up her badge. FBI.
“Willow,” Travis began, giving me a long and detached perusal.
He was here to ask me questions. I understood that, but I spoke before he could start the interrogation. To her. “Why weren’t you at the house with the others?”
Travis stopped midstride.
The woman’s eyebrows jumped up, and the two of them shared a look before she cleared her throat. She had dark hair pulled back in a wicked-tight hold. Dark brown skin, maybe five feet, eight inches tall. Slender build. Her blazer was tight against her body, showing the definition of her arms. She either lifted on a regular basis or did enough cardio to define her muscles. When Travis didn’t say anything, she pressed her lips together. “I’m Agent Cardiman. Or Nikki.”
“This is the profiler, Billie,” Travis added. “The one I told you about.”
She threw him a look before masking it. She wasn’t pleased with him. As she stepped closer to the bed, her head tilted to the side. “I’m here to try to get as much information as possible about your experience.” Her eyes turned inspecting, trained on me.
I shifted on the bed, drawing my legs up so I could turn and lean back against Brett’s chest. She noted the sequence of movements, her eyes narrowing and her lips softening. They didn’t smile or frown, they just weren’t in a hard line anymore. Her eyes dropped to Brett’s hand on my thigh, a strong and possessive hold.
Her gaze lifted back to my face, seeing that I was also watching her. A brief smile flashed over her face before it was gone just as quick. “You’re comfortable around law enforcement.” It was an observation.
I considered not correcting her, letting her have the wrong assumption, but instead I said, “I’m comfortable with Brett.” That was all I’d give her, though the truth was that yes, I was familiar with law enforcement. That was it. That was only it.
She shared another look with Travis before her shoulders rolled up, back, and down. “With your permission, I’d like to take you through an exercise. You were so close to…” She hesitated. “…to our suspect, and while we’ve watched the security—”