Page 7

Reaching across the car, I grasp Jo’s hand and kiss her knuckles as I pull to a stop in front of the exit gate. Jo blows out a breath before the window to the little booth slides open.
A girl peers through the window and I do a double take. She is not the armed guard from before, and she’s wearing the green nurses scrubs instead of any sort of protective gear. A guy peers over her head from behind, and I can’t imagine why the hell he’s letting her check people out at a place like this.
Jo leans forward and mutters beside me. “I saw her when we were walking in, working with another patient. Didn’t see her name.”
I shrug. All it confirms is she’s not a guard and probably doesn’t have any business sitting out here with one. When she grins I spy her badge for the institution.C. Swanis written in bold text, and it makes me think of the badge the agent flashed at me. This girl seems a little out of place down here by the gates instead of working inside CGP.
“You two all good?” she asks, pressing something behind the half wall. The blocker lifts from the road, and now we can easily cruise out of here. The paved portion of the road ends at the properties edge, and it’s a two lane dirt highway between here and the actual town of Citrus Grove.
“Sure,” Jo chimes in loudly from the passenger seat, her voice full of fake sweetness. She’s fidgeting, running her nails along the time-worn scars across her wrist and hands.
Swan just keeps on smiling at us, and the guard behind her shifts around. He leans close enough I can spot his badge too for a moment. It reads K. Wallsburg. Swan keeps yammering though, oblivious to how little Jo cares. “It can be a little depressing up there, huh? You get used to it, I promise. It’s kind of a neat place to work. I get to meet all the infamous serial killers without having to be a victim. Cool, right?”
Exchanging a glance with Jo, I feel like something is off about this girl. She’s too happy, too off balance as she sways back and forth in the little place, and she has a dopey look on her face. I can’t help wondering if maybe she’s one of those nurses that sneaks pills out.
The blocker drops back in place since she’s still babbling while we keep staring. “Say, you’re the married couple, aren’t you? I heard Alastair grumbling about the two of you. The FBI is all about you-”
“Candace,” the guard warns.
She shrugs. “Anyway, neat of you to stop by. We get such interesting visitors to this little place, but they hardly ever let people inside since there’s so many nutjobs who like serial killers. Right, Kyle?”
He grunts in return. I don’t know which one of them hits the button, but the blocker lifts a second time. Giving her a strained smile, I focus on the road ahead again. “You have a good night, Candace.”
“You too!”
We’ve barely hit the dirt road when Jo speaks. “She’s… chipper. For working with the mentally unstable.”
“Killers and madmen, darling. Call it whatever you want, but Alastair is still in a prison, not a mental hospital. There’s no helping someone with that kind of evil.”
She smacks me in the chest with a sharp hit to my right side, and I catch her arm. She’s all over the map today, sending me mixed signals that must mirror the confusion in her head. Right now she’s being a bit of a brat, which is uncommon unless she’s wanting something from me. Usually, it’s a damn good sign she wants to flirt and fuck. When we’re at home in our element, managing the club in Denver, she knows how to be coy and teasing, and sex usually comes easily and is hot as fuck between the two of us. But after visiting with the FBI I’m not sure that’s really what she’s looking for.
“If he had just stayed out of my way I wouldn’t have had to talk to him,” she breathes, and her hand tightens against me. “You didn’t, right?”
“Talk to Alastair?” Talking about him makes me think about high school, right before everything turned to shit. “No. I didn’t even see him. I spoke to Agent Lapin who said he was supposed to be on explicit lockdown during our visit. I can see how many fucks they gave about that.”
When she goes quiet I glance her way, finding a frown tugging at her lips. Her eyes are focused ahead, and I wait her out until Jo finally speaks again. “Then what was the point of dragging us there? We could’ve talked to the agents at the police station, or flown somewhere else to talk to them. If they don’t plan on involving us three together there isn’t much of a point is there?”
“He talked to you when he saw you,” I remind her, gritting my teeth before I say anything else about it.
“Yeah, but they wanted an instant reaction. Didn’t Sterling say he wanted us to come to talk to Alastair to begin with? Those agents are playing games with us, I swear.”
Shrugging my shoulders, I try to focus on the road again. It’s a pretty easy drive, although it’s been so many years since I drove it. This route is the fastest to the nearest airport and major highways to drive further into Florida or head up into Alabama, and if you didn’t know to look for Citrus Grove it can be easy to miss. “I won’t pretend like I understand them, Jo.”
“This is a waste of time,” she goes on before her voice drops and she starts muttering to herself. I catch the glint of her phone and feel her pulling her arm away from me. She’s going to message her cousin and try to micromanage from here, something she does when she’s feeling stressed out.
“You can’t pester Serenity for updates again,” I remind her, adjusting the vents so cool air pours over us. The rental has nice cooling seats and powerful AC, so I can at least say we’re somewhat comfortable. “Give her a chance to do things on her own, Let’s just go back to Emeric’s-”
“And what?” she groans. “Whittle away time? Fuck?”
That draws a real smile out of me, and I glance over again to wink at her. “I’ll fuck the dark thoughts out of your head until you can’t think straight, darling. You need only ask.”
She clicks her tongue, and I know she’s thinking it over. There’s no immediate denial of the offer, and she squirms in her seat for a few minutes without giving me an answer.
Fuck, I hate Florida. If we were back home, I’d already be on my knees for her or she’d be bent over screaming for me. Either way, there wouldn’t be an ounce of hesitation from her because we wouldn’t be burdened by so much stress.
My phone buzzes in the silence, and I deny the call without looking. Unless the club is burning down, it can wait. Nothing matters more right now than ensuring I can get Jo out of that dark headspace she’s slipping into.
If there weren’t so many guards in my way, I’d drive back to the penitentiary, slip some money to the happy nurse Candace, and go end Alastair myself. Notorious serial killer or not, I’m not his victim type. I’m not sedated, tied down, or a woman. He never gave a single victim of his a chance. Even Jo got out by the skin of her teeth. I try not to think about it all that often, or the killer instincts my father instilled in me that tried to kick in.