“Well, I don’t think he’s a robot,” I murmur, beyond weirded out by this conversation.
“Go on in there and change. I’ll give you the lay of the land, as it were.” She points to a stall.
I glance down at the bag I’m holding before deciding I really do need to get changed. Zander’s pants are barely hanging on.
I clang the door closed and find some jeans, which thankfully fit, even if they are a little loose on me. To me, thought, it is much better than if they were tight. Next up, I discover a T-shirt that hangs long, but also shows more cleavage than I would like. The bra and panties are a godsend. There is something comforting and safe about wearing clean clothes that are now mine.
I rip all the tags off, placing them in my pocket so I know how much I owe Zander for them. Then I sit on the toilet seat, lid closed, to get my wits together as I listen to Sasha blather on about Zander and this place.
I am sort of interested, especially when she begins discussing Zander’s dating life.
“So, I started working here a few months ago, but the place has been open for three years. The last receptionist was a bitch and completely hopeless. She constantly put calls through to Zander, even when it was obvious the callers were desperate women he wanted nothing to do with, and she barely wrote down any appointments into his calendar. She turned up late, and then got drunk and came back into the office one night to seduce him. Can you believe that bitch? Anyway”—she sighs, sounding like she is about to reveal something draining—“I stepped in and have been running the show ever since. The boys wouldn’t know what to do without me,” she says cockily, and I can’t tell if she’s serious or joking.
“I’ve known Zander, Declan, and Joey all my life. I was Zander’s neighbor growing up, and the guys were his friends. We all went to the same school. I was three years younger, but I remember them like a bad smell. They took one look at me and decided I was their little sister. Chased away every single guy around. Nosy bastards, too. But I got three years of peace after they graduated. Then we all drifted to different parts, doing our own thing. Home kept us connected, though.”
I slip out of the bathroom stall and into the judgmental eyes of Sasha.
“The shirt isn’t tight enough. Neither are the jeans. How is Zander meant to be eyeing your ass if he can’t even find it? I’ll go shopping again on my break. I’ll need to get some more appropriate outfits now that I understand the situation better.”
“The situation? What do you mean?” And why does she think Zander needs to be eyeing my ass?
“You know how many women Zander has brought into work with him?” she asks, but is quick to answer her own question. “None. You know how many have stayed over at his house since sweet Van moved in with him? None. You know how many people in this entire world could get away with stealing his car? Only you.”
“I don’t think—”
“Red. Red will definitely suit your skin color. I know just the dress you need,” Sasha interrupts.
A worrying feeling begins to settle in my gut.
“I’m not looking to entice Zander. I’m just grateful he is willing to give me some help. I just got out of a … well, the guy I was seeing was …”
“Say no more. I get a bad breakup. I’ve had loads. The last one was awful. I even contemplated killing him, but I don’t think orange will suit me. I find the best thing to get over a breakup is a new distraction. And trust me; Zander will be distracting,” she tells me, grabbing my free hand and dragging me out of the bathroom.
We hit the hallway, and instead of taking me to Zander’s office, she sits me down on her incredibly comfortable chair and turns me so I’m at the side of her desk. She rattles around her top drawer, which is full of makeup, and then proceeds to grab some eyeliner, eye shadow, and a small tube of lip gloss.
“I’ve not used the eyeliner stick yet,” she tells me, tilting my head back and going right ahead and smearing it under my lashes.
“I’m not sure I need—”
“I don’t have anything else that will go with your pale skin, but I’ll pick up some things on my break that will work. I know Zander has given the order that you are to be guarded at all times, and trust me when I say, taking one of the boys shopping is like dragging a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound toddler with you—annoying, slow, and pointless in the end. So, you’ll just have to trust me.” She then dabs some eyeshadow over my eyes, using her thumbs to swish it along. I close my eyes for fear of her poking an eye out.
“So, back to my story. I know these idiots, and this might be a newer company, but Zander has pulled in every favor he has for you. He’s been like a zombie since … well, after his parents … you know, but he’s more awake now than I’ve ever seen him. I’ve been trying to rile him up like I did before for months! The man has been impenetrable.” She rolls her eyes at me. “Moody bastard, you know?”
“You did all that this morning on purpose?”
“Yes. And I’m sorry, honey, because I don’t really know you that well, but I’m going to have to use you,” she admits without a single ounce of concern that she just admitted that out loud to me.
“Use me?”
“Yes. He likes you. No way you touch his car, steal it, drive it, and get away unscathed. He saw something in you, and he has finally engaged with the world. He’s taking a risk, and I want him to keep going in that direction.”
She finishes my other eye, and then dabs her finger into the gloss and swipes it over my lips. I lean back at the unexpected, and not entirely welcomed touch, but she persists and tells me to pucker up.
The gloss is smooth and tastes like cherries. I can’t help smoothing it out.
Sasha smiles happily.
“He doesn’t actually like me like you think. Van likes me.”
She jerks back in shock, standing over me now “Van does?” My answer obviously surprises her.
“Zander told me he hasn’t seen Van so animated since their parents died. He was ready to give me up to the police, but Van talked to me in the car. We sort of connected, I guess. He likes me. So, Zander doesn’t like me; he likes that Van likes me,” I explain, hoping this sinks in for me, too, so I can stop fantasizing about him.
Sasha purses her lips together for a moment, and then I see sadness enter her eyes. “That poor kid. I know Zander has tried his hardest with him. Drives himself to exhaustion worrying about him. But he’s still hurting, and he’s not broody enough to bury it deep like Zander.”
I nod, looking down at my lap. Seeing down my top easily to the bra beneath, I pull my shirt up a little self-consciously. It doesn’t stay up, and the dip remains too low for my liking.
“Come on; I can practically hear Zander pacing around his office with steam bursting out of his ears. He’s not a very patient man.”
I want to tell her he has been patient with me, but I don’t want her to read into those words. Therefore, I follow Sasha in silence as she leads me to the door right at the end of the hallway, opposite to the one she led me down before.
There is a window in place of the interior wall, which gives me a view of the large office inside. Once we step inside, I gaze past the three men and over to the other window that reveals the outside.
The front of the office might be opposite a strip joint, but this side of the building has a park across the road. It is early and a school day, yet there are already several young children running around and playing in the cool morning. Parents and guardians are watching close by.
There is such innocence outside, and even though none of the noise from the laughter or screams from the kids penetrate into the room, I can’t help feeling sick at seeing their happiness and freeness.
Those kids have no idea of the evils that live in this world. The evils that I let into my own life.
I was dating a monster and didn’t even know it.
How can we protect children when evil disguises itself as the good guys?
“Doesn’t like me, my ass!” Sasha his
ses in my ear, and I jump at her closeness, as well as her words.
I manage to follow her gaze to the guys. The one from earlier, Declan if I recall right, has narrowed eyes on Sasha. The other man I don’t know is reading over some papers at the desk. However, it is Zander’s gaze that makes me catch my breath.
He is staring at me and not in any sort of wholesome way. His eyes are hot, his gaze stuck on my revealing cleavage.
I would feel creeped out if I didn’t get a thrill from the attention.
I have never worn anything skimpy like this before, never wanting attention on me. Yet, there is something about knowing Zander’s eyes are on me now that gives me pause.
Then he finally comes back to himself and, with a shake of his head, grunts, waving his hand toward an empty chair in front of his desk. He then turns around and ignores me.
I shakily take a seat, and then jump when Declan speaks up.
“He didn’t ask you in here, Sash. You’re a receptionist; go be one.” Declan’s voice sounds hostile, and I instantly feel a dislike toward him.
“Fuck off, Dec. I’m here as Ava’s moral support.”
“Moral support? You only met her ten minutes ago!”
“And we bonded. So, how about you fuck off?” Sasha sits herself down next to me, crossing her arms and giving Declan a glare that is so icy I feel a cold shiver run over me just from being near it.
“You are the most unprofessional bit—”
“Stop! I don’t need to hear this, and our fucking client sure as fuck doesn’t need to see you two acting like children. Either both of you get out, or shut up and listen,” Zander snaps.
Both Sasha and Declan audibly snap their jaws shut, but I can tell neither of them are happy about it.
We all wait in silence in case either of them decides to break it, but when it appears they are both going to behave, the other man in the room speaks up.
“I’m Joey.” He reaches over to me, and I shake his hand, finding it warm and strong.
Joey has Asian features and a warm smile. His build is closer to Declan’s leaner one, but he appears confident and is well-dressed. From his cheeky smile, the quick wink he gives me, and his cool demeanor, I imagine Joey is a bit of a ladies’ man.
“Hi. Ava,” I say, finding this bit of normalcy to be strange.
He keeps ahold of my hand until Zander clears his throat. When Joey finally releases my hand, his grin gets bigger. I wonder if he is acting this way on purpose to push Zander’s buttons.
“I got the boys up-to-date on your situation. Our friend with the police has informed me, if we can get the evidence you have, he will ensure a smooth delivery to the correct people. He wanted in, but until we know what exactly we’re dealing with, I don’t want to involve him just yet.”
“What situation? What exactly is happening here?” Sasha asks.
“None of your fucking business. This is dangerous shit that you are not qualified to be involved in,” Declan snaps. Something tells me their peace is just about to break.
“You have no idea what I am qualified to be involved in!”
“Oh yeah, you good with rape, torture, and murder?” He slaps her with his words. Hell, he slaps me with his words and I do know my situation. However, I haven’t given it much thought, not past torture. Rape and murder?
I shake from the implication and feel more revulsion go through me as I picture Brian enjoying seeing such acts.
How did I not see what was lurking beneath the surface? How could I be so blind?
Sasha gapes at Declan, then her terrified eyes turn to me. She reaches out, taking my hand and squeezing it so hard I’m likely to get a bruise. But the pain centers me, giving me something else to focus on.
“Fuck, Dec. What the hell?” Zander barks, and Declan has the grace to look apologetic.
Zander comes around his desk and crouches down by my chair before easily swinging me around until I am facing him.
“I’m sorry,” Declan rushes to apologize. “I just don’t want Sasha to … She doesn’t need this case in her head,” Declan finally says.
I look up to see he looks remorseful as he stares pleadingly at Sasha.
Suddenly, his asshole comments from earlier make more sense. He wanted her out and was being a bastard to get her to leave to protect her.
“Everyone, give us a minute,” Zander demands.
The strong gruffness of his voice makes me look back down at him as everyone else quickly scoots out without another word.
As soon as the door clicks shut, Zander reaches out and moves both of my hands together, resting them in my lap, his own hands covering mine and enveloping them in warmth.
“I … I don’t know why I’m shocked. I guess I never … Murder? Rape? I never saw that on the video. I mean … I suppose it makes sense.” I swallow bile back down and stop talking.
Shit, this world is more fucked up than I even thought.
“There has been a spike of women being abducted around Chicago and some neighboring cities. Two to three women disappear without a trace every month. Probably more than that since we can’t keep track of everyone. These women have no close families and have jobs that turn the media and the public off from looking too closely at them. No bodies have been found, and since these women are usually high-risk for being runaways, the police continue to treat them with little regard. But one woman turned up on a website. It’s a specialty site that caters to sick fucks. She was tortured, raped, and beheaded on tape.”
I gasp, bile quickly rising again as I struggle to catch my breath.
Zander squeezes my hands a little tighter as I stare into his eyes, using his to center myself, and take a deep breath.
Once I have taken a few breaths and feel a little better, Zander continues.
“Her body was never found. Most people believed it was a snuff video—faked. But someone went to a lot of trouble to hide it once people began to scrutinize the video a little harder. There’s been no trace of it since, and the website that caters to the sick suddenly went dark. Or, as I believe, became harder to find.” He stops and places his hands on either side of my face.
My eyes, which were only seeing him as a blur, are suddenly able to focus on his stern expression. I blink through my tears as he quickly wipes them away. Then I drag in a few more painful breaths.
“I called Dec and Joey first thing this morning, and they did some digging. We think you might have stumbled upon something huge. I think, if I could see those videos on your USB, we might recognize many of those women as the ones missing. I think your ex knows that, as soon as those women are connected, there is no way the police can hide from their disappearances.”
I think back to all the files I saw. There were hundreds of them. Were they all different women? Will there be hundreds of victims uncovered?
“I’m hoping that the videos might not just have the victims, but also the assholes abusing them. We can try to get locations, names, and trace these fuckers. We can help put a stop to this.”
When I nod, he moves his hands away and finally leans back, resting his hands just above my knees.
“Good. I know this isn’t easy to hear, but once we have that USB, we can get the ball rolling. We can end this situation and keep you safe.”
“Okay.” But is there anywhere in the world safe from monsters?
He squeezes my thighs, sending warmth and comfort through me, then stands.
When he nods, the others must see him through the window since they take that as their cue to reenter, minus Sasha. Despite not knowing her well, I miss her presence.
“Sash said she’s taking an early lunch,” Declan mutters as he takes her seat next to me and stretches his long legs out in front of the chair, his thigh almost touching my leg he takes up so much room.
“We need to get our eyes on the USB. Where is it?” Zander asks me.
“I hid it in Mr. Forbes’ house—Brian’s neighbor. I put Whiskers back in the house, and then I had to think about
what exactly I needed to do. I knew I had to go to the police, but I wasn’t sure exactly how that was going to go. Since I had two USBs, I left one behind. I fed his fish, changed Whisker’s kitty litter, put treats in her bowl, and put the USB at the bottom of the drawer in the kitchen where he keeps Whisker’s cans of tuna.”
“I need an address,” Joey says, sliding over a piece of paper. “And I need everything you know about Brian Clarke.”
I nod, my hand shaking as I write down Mr. Forbes’ address, then hesitate when it comes to Brian. “What type of things do you need to know about him?”
“Full name, date of birth, names of any friends or family you know of. How long have you known him, and places he likes to hang out. I need his phone number if you can recall it, and anything you noticed that, looking back now, stands out as odd. Plus, I need you to go back over what happened four days ago; see if anything new comes to light.”
I spend the next two hours talking about Brian. It’s not pleasant, it’s not fun, and it forces me to realize I know next to nothing important. I know a handful of his friends and family, but I have no idea where he likes to hang out. I even have to give them a few variations of what I think his cell number is because I can’t check it with my own cell since I left it behind in his car when I escaped. I can confirm some dates when he left or returned from assignments, but not much else about his work.
I never really noticed how little my life intertwined with his. When he went away, we texted occasionally. Then, as soon as he came home, I changed my routine to include quiet nights with him. He never pushed to do anything more. He never asked questions about my day, my online friends, or my life.
Earlier, when Zander asked me why I stayed with him, I realized that I probably never loved Brian, not in the way I’m supposed to love a man I have been dating for so long. I was never in love with him.
Now I realize why Brian stayed with me. He was never in love with me, either. Maybe he didn’t even love me at all. I was just a useful cover for him.
I Stole His Car (Love at First Crime Book 1) Page 9