Page 24

Hunt

If John Bourdin violated her, I vow right now—he will pee into a bag the rest of his life. I won’t have an ounce of remorse for what I do to him. Settling behind the wheel, I lay my hand on her shoulder.

When she turns, I wait for her gaze to raise to mine. “I’m so, so sorry I implied you were working for them.”

“Don’t be. If I were in your shoes, I would’ve thought the same. Let’s go, okay? I’m fine.” She lowers her head, staring back down to her fidgety hands.

I probably ought to say something more, but I’m so far out of my comfort zone, I’m lost. Racking my brain, I try to recall one thing from my trauma class.

Talk? Yes, that’s it. Encourage the victim to open up.

“How long ago did this happen?” Despite my reassuring smile, her frown deepens.

“My first month on the job. I received a call from a farmer whose property borders Canada. When he saw a group of armed strangers on his property, he hid in his basement. He was praying they wouldn’t find him.”

I listen to a bird sing chickadee-dee-dee for a while before I move my hand to her knee. “Go on. I’m listening.”

Kelly swivels toward Bourdin. Biting her lower lip, she leans over the armrest and whispers, “I called Dante for backup, then Gina. Even the state police were more than thirty minutes away. I was the only one close by. It was all up to me.”

A new hire should never have been left on her own. They should’ve instructed her to stand down.

My grinding back teeth must reveal my infuriation because now, she pokes my shoulder. “I’m not an idiot, Scott. I stayed in the car, waiting for help. I honestly don’t know what happened. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital. The doctor said I must’ve fought hard. My knuckles were broken, as well as my nose and jaw. Bruising, too—I guess I don’t need to tell you where.”

Tips of her cheeks red, she clenches her fists. “It’s so weird to be missing a chunk of memory. I hate it. Perhaps if I knew who did it, I could point my anger in the right direction. It’s difficult to explain. Finally, I gave up. I stuffed all the emotions in a mental box, then welded it shut. And don’t you say anything, I know it’s unhealthy. Okay? I’ve had tons of therapy, but what works works.”

“Until it doesn’t.” I keep my face neutral, but inside, my heart aches for her.

“I know, I know. I was stupid. I’ve got no one to blame but myself.” She swallows back a sob which tightens the knot in my throat.

“I’m sorry.” Never have my words sounded so trite, so impotent.

Despite this, she forces a smile and lifts her wet lashes. “For what? You didn’t do one thing wrong.”

I twist in my seat, then catch a fat, glistening drop on my thumb. “I didn’t want you to relive the…”

As my sentence hangs in the air, worse than any toxin, she kisses my palm. “It’s okay. I call it ‘The Incident’.”

Pulling away, I rasp my hand over my chin. “I can’t help but feel like I’ve added to your trauma.”

She cups my cheek, her steady gaze willing me to believe her. “No, Scott. You helped me break the box. Now hit the road, Wildlife. We have a prisoner to deliver.”

Her firm tone leaves no room for argument. This conversation is over. Respecting her decision, I grip the wheel as my mind buzzes. How many people has she told? Why me? Why now?

A long silence stretches between us until she taps my arm. “Listen, once we get rid of Bourdin, if you need to leave, I’ll understand.”

Where the hell did this come from? “I’m not going anywhere until you and your town are safe from these assholes.”

“But the FBI only authorized you to count heads, right?”

Martyrdom? Is this where we’re going? After all she just shared, does she think I would walk out on her? What other baggage is she carrying?

Not wanting to trip any wires, I tread carefully. “Babe, I called in a few favors. A buddy at the Bureau is helping me out. I also contacted a private agency who guards some of the wealthiest and most influential people on the planet.”

“Lightweights?” Her teasing smile loosens the tightness in my chest.

My guard lowered, I laugh. “Exactly. I won’t let anything happen to you or your family. Dante was right to protect you. You’ve gone through enough.”

Lightning fast, her eyes spark in her hardened expression. “I know you mean well, but stop. I’m not a victim. I’m a Marine.”

Channeling my VA therapist, I exhale. “You can’t go back. Bad stuff, not so bad stuff, everything shapes who we are. Healing is about embracing the new you.”

When a corner of her lips quirks up, I wipe my brow. Phew. That was close .

“Affirmative.” She punches a fist into a palm. “Now, our next step is to obtain evidence. And if I understood correctly, we can’t call your direct supervisor, but we have your security buddies and a colleague willing to help.”

“Ah-huh.”

As my brain struggles to keep up, she bounces in her seat. “So, we drop off Bourdin, then head to Ahmad’s party. Simple.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re forgetting one thing.”

Her face skews. “I am? What?”