Page 13

A fter double-checking that my lips are a shiny nude, my mascara still clump-free, and my blush—which matches both my complexion and dress on a cellular level—is flawless, I take a steadying breath.

I’m easily excited, true, but not so much nervous. I’m pretty laid back, go with the flow, here to have a good time, not stay for a long time type, but Holy shit, there are butterflies in my fucking throat.

Skin flushed, nerves vibrating, and a gas tsunami whirling in my stomach, I stretch my neck to each side, trying to find pleasure in the rows of small pops that burst as my neck cracks.

It’s pretty obvious she and I are completely opposites. From our lives, to personalities, to general interests, we don’t fit how I think most people do when looking for their person. Though, perhaps that’s why I’m so interested. So invested. I want to learn more because she’s a book I’ve never read. She has an ending I haven’t already figured out and one that I think is worth reading the middle to get to. She’s not just a new shining toy I’ll likely get bored of. She’s an evolution. Something to not be played with but studied. Then cherished. And I want to be the person to do that.

To get the secrets, the smiles, the long thought-provoking conversions she doesn’t give to anyone else. I see so much, and even knowing I’ll probably kill myself to get there, I want it with every fiber of my being.

I only hope that I don’t fuck this up. Because if there is one thing I’m good at, it’s overthinking and ruining everything .

With one last glance, I hurry from the bathroom and back through the museum. When I make it back to Elena, I find her standing at the bottom of the iron stairs, her eyes trained on the water bottle in front of her. Her index finger tracing the condensation on the outside of the plastic, her mind completely lost in thought as she strokes along the side. I shouldn’t find the simple act hot, but unsurprisingly, I do.

“Let’s go.” Without hesitation, I slip my hand in hers and lead her behind the steps and toward the open double doors at the other end. When we reach the attendant, I slip my phone out of my purse and show him the ticket barcodes I pre-purchased. After he scans them and directs us inside, I turn over my shoulder. “Can I ask you a strange and completely random question?”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.” Even in the suddenly dim lighting I can see the hint of a smirk and I add another mental tally for all the times I’ve made her smile tonight. It feels like such an accomplishment.

“Who’s your favorite musical artist?” I lower my voice as we enter the round-about seating in the planetarium. There are only a few people present, but I choose a spot a good distance away from anyone.

“Chopin,” she announces.

“Quirky,” I joke, silently hating that I have to release her hand to pull down the fold up chair for her to sit. “Anyone a little more current?”

She waits for me to get settled in my seat before joining me. She glances at the bottles in her hand for a moment before choosing one to hand over, and for the briefest second, I think she may have a set of her own nerves. Being who she is though, I brush it away as quickly as I think it before slowly twisting the top off and taking a long pull, my eyes closing for a moment as the cool liquid expands across my chest.

“Good?”

“ Delicious .” My voice comes out a little lower than I mean it to, but I also hadn’t realized how thirsty I was. Then I remember how somewhere in my excitement over the date I totally forgot lunch and skipped on my afternoon snack to get ready.

It could be a trick of the low light, but I swear her pupils flare. Like any emotion this woman ever gives me though, it’s gone in the next second when she quickly blinks and shakes her head. “I find Chopin soothes both me and my plants, so I haven’t found a reason to venture into other genres.”

“I see. So no concerts in our dating future.” It’s meant to be another joke while also slipping in the suggestion of a second date. My pulse thrums as I wait for her response, but decide to distract myself by snagging a brochure from the seat in front of me. It’s worn and torn on one edge, but my eyes soak in the information like it’s a survival guide and I’m in the wilderness. Which isn’t too far fetched considering how this whole thing feels like such unexplored terrain for me.

After what is nothing short of fucking eternity, Elena relaxes back into her chair. “Music wouldn’t be a problem as much as the crowd.”

My heart leaps, and I almost can’t hide the goofy smile from taking over. “So then what would you have us do?”

Before she can answer, the lights flicker once before turning off completely, another voice coming over the intercom. A spray of bright stars light up the dome above and cast Elena’s face in a radiant glow.

For a solid ten seconds, I’m stuck, admiring her beauty like one would priceless art. Every small curve and sharp line is ingrained into my mind until my chest squeezes and twists, the need to kiss her so overwhelming I just about give in.

But then she smirks, her eyes shifting to look at me in her periphery. “Surprise me.”

Completely disarmed and stupefied, words slip from my frazzled mind, leaving me with only euphoria and a lopsided smile. When I do grab the semblance of a sentence, the guide begins his presentation as if on cue.

As difficult as it is, I turn to focus on the demonstration, and it isn’t until I feel soft fingers thread through mine, that I finally breathe.

* * *

I take another shot in hopes of easing my nerves as the plane shakes with one another bout of turbulence. The entire ride has sucked, courtesy of a storm spanning over half the damn U.S., and not even the file in front of me is enough of a distraction.

“You alright?” Agent Fikes appears next to me, a dozen folds in his forehead, showcasing his concern. “I’m not sure if I should tell you that drinking while on the clock isn’t exactly protocol.”

Rolling my eyes, I let my head fall onto the less than comfortable headrest. I haven’t quite figured this guy out yet, but there’s little tells he unknowingly gives off, that say he’s not as innocent as he comes across. “Fikesy Fikes. Let me make one thing clear. When it comes to me training you, there is one crucial thing you should always remember; do as I say and not as I do.”

The kid nods before sitting next to me. “Hey look, I’m nervous, too.”

I try not to let my eyes roll again in fear of them falling out. “It’s just a meeting to pick up files. Nothing to be nervous about.”

My uncle informed us this morning that not only were there files collected by nearly all the bordering cities in South Carolina, but that they didn’t have the personnel to send them over in person and would need to be picked up at a central location. Because we needed them sooner than later, he sent us over by jet to grab them, hoping I could start working on them during the flight.

“I meant, flying.”

“Oh.” I stifle a laugh. “I’m not worried about that in the slightest.”

Between wanting to date a woman who is likely going to smash my heart to smithereens, find two serial killers that may be hiding under the veil of the cartel to murder dozens, and knowing I’m going in completely alone to survey said gang, the flight is the least of my worries.

“I’m fine. And if not,” I lift my glass “the whiskey will take care of it.”

Thankfully, he lifts his hands in surrender and instead nods toward the open file on the narrow table in front of me. “Learn anything?”

I huff, threading my finger through my hair. Only that no one knows who the hell this guy is, and everyone is terrified to talk. Whoever the cartel leader is, he’s both smart, dangerous, and got one hell of a loyal gang.

Unfortunately, when I worked with the late mayor, he never gave me a name. In fact, he lied on more than one occasion and made it seem like he was the leader, which we both know was bullshit.

But since I’m only supposed to be working on the river murders, my lips thin. “Just that the unsubs have serious childhood trauma, but clearly have different strength profiles and killing MO’s.”

“That’s not very helpful in narrowing down suspects.” Fikes grunts.

“It’s fucking annoying,” I lie.

In truth, I have a pretty good profile building, and only need the extra files to solidify my findings. It’s the cartel, that in the last thirty-six hours, has become more of a pain in my ass than Alexi. Granted, I still want his dick on a stick, but at least my known nemesis doesn’t hide behind a wall. In fact, as much as I hate Alexi, at least his arrogance makes him easy to predict. He lets everyone know well in advance his intentions. The cartel, on the other hand, is one big ass mystery. They’re like ghosts with fangs.

Out of all the drugs we’ve confiscated over the years, more than half were laced with traces of fentanyl. From the few drug runners we’ve apprehended, they’ve all been teens—those without family or housing—who’ve been promised a better life. None of them knew any names beyond “boss” or “capo.” After all three ended up dead when released from custody, we decided to hold off rounding up anymore until we had something more concrete. However, doing so has meant the cartel has expanded in Georgia and the kids’ deaths have become a relatively cold case. Until now.

After looking at all the reports and evidence, I can see why my uncle and the others wanted this hush hush. There are literally ears everywhere .

“Well, at least this will serve as a brief break,” Fikes says before standing. “Then we can start fresh when we get back. Add these files to the others and really form something.”

“Yeah, let’s hope,” I tell him as I gather up all the papers and shove them not-so-neatly back into the file folder. My stomach rolls with a horrible grumble, and I make a mental note to grab some antacids when we land. Because between the cartel, Alexi, and the additional serial killer, I’m on my way to a fucking ulcer.

Luckily, I have Elena.

My pulse thrums with the mere thought of her name. Our date the other night was perfection. She is perfection. Throughout the entire evening, her focus was on nothing but me. And not like everyone else. Like I’m only here for entertainment but as if she actually wants to get to know me. She hung on every word and story, asked questions, and even smiled a handful of times. Her shell—though thick and seemingly made of fucking steel—seemed to crack, and in those moments, I saw smidges of the softness she tries so hard to hide.

Naturally, I tried to pivot the conversation from me to her, but every time I did, that damn shield would rise. And I so desperately, and selfishly, wanted to keep seeing that side of her, that I kept talking about myself.

Now, as I sit on the plane with nothing but my thoughts of her, and so much unsolved mystery, I can’t help but slip my computer from my backpack and open a new search tab in the database.

I’m not sure what I assumed I’d find, but it damn sure wasn’t what I do. Not only do I find Elena in the system, I find the Babin family attached to her.