The Leah Ryan Thrillers Box Set: Three Chiller Thrillers (Repo Chick Blues #1, Finding Chloe #2, Dirty Business #3) (Leah Ryan Thrillers Box Set, Books 1-3)

by Tracy Sharp

When I responded to his text, asking where he was, he’d replied, saying that he was at his office, that he’d be over in about an hour. He was just finishing up some odds and ends that needed to be done before tomorrow.

  I couldn’t wait.

  I drove to the firm, parking further back in the parking lot. There were only a few vehicles left. I sat, staring at the building for a minute. Imagining Lucas inside, in his office, head bent to some paperwork, glasses having slid slightly down his nose.

  Should I wait? Go back home? This was crazy.

  No. I needed him now.

  I got out of my Jeep and headed for the entrance of the building. A good looking man in a dark suit was coming through the doors. His dark hair was cut perfectly, and held in place with some men’s hair product. His cologne was too strong and he smiled at me as I breezed past him. I didn’t hesitate.

  My stride didn’t falter as I headed down the hall toward the security door. I needed to be let in. I put my finger on the button and buzzed Lucas’s phone. He would see me on the monitor beside his laptop.

  He did, and buzzed me in.

  I walked quickly to his office, my boots hitting the polished floor echoing loudly in the corridor. His door opened before I got to it. He stood looking at me, a slightly bewildered smile on his face. I stepped through the door and he closed it behind me.

  “I couldn’t wait,” I said, stepping into his arms and going for his lips with my own.

  “I can see that,” he said, between kisses.

  “I want you right now,” I breathed into his mouth, and unbuttoned his pants.

  “Leah, there’s a window in the door.”

  “Everyone is gone, aren’t they?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I don’t care,” I said, sliding his boxers down his legs. My mind clouded and heat pooled between my legs. I was suddenly aware of my nipples pressing against my bra. “I need you. Right now.”

  I backed him to the love seat and pushed him down into it. He chuckled as I undid the button of my jeans, zipped them down, and shoved them down my legs, kicking them off as I climbed on top of him. I left my panties on.

  “My my, aren’t we feeling frisky,” he said, grinning up at me, his head slightly tilted to the side.

  “Yes,” I murmured, leaning in close. “We are.”

  His eyes softened into the look I’d come to know as his bedroom eyes. Slightly misty and far away as they watched me. His hands moved over my hips and his breathing deepened.

  When it was finished, I leaned forward, feeling my pleasure ebb. I wanted to grasp onto it, but it slipped away, the emptiness seeping in close behind it.

  “Jesus Christ,” he breathed against my neck.

  “Well said,” I whispered, my forehead pressing against the fabric of the loveseat.

  This was the awkward part. Now what do we do? We weren’t exactly dating. He was married, had a wife to go home to. And I was just as emotionally unavailable as he was. My desire to push off him and snatch up my clothes probably mirrored what he was feeling. Because he wasn’t mine, and he never would be. I wanted to be close to him, to snuggle into him and feel safe and warm, but it wouldn’t be real. It would be a dream. Another mirage.

  I couldn’t allow myself the luxury of loving him, because I couldn’t afford it. And neither could he.

  Knowing this was both comforting and isolating, and I remembered the tiny voice that had, once again, tried and failed to warn me. My drug of choice had left me longing. Something close to despair feathered fingers along my heart. I pictured a barren dessert, no rescue in sight. Like always, I’d have to wander the nothingness until I found my way back out.

  “Thank you, Ms. Ryan,” Lucas said.

  I moved back until I was looking at him. “You’re welcome. It was my pleasure.” And it had been, but my voice betrayed me, cracking slightly, hinting at the loneliness I was feeling.

  He must’ve heard it because he took my face in his hands and moved toward me, kissing me on the nose.

  I offered a tiny smile.

  “I’ll see you soon,” he said, gently pushing me backward.

  “Right,” I said, as I climbed off him and started getting dressed.

  * * *

  I drove home, picturing the session that Lucas and I had just had to stave off the emptiness I felt. I wanted the feel of his hands on me, the taste of his lips. I could smell his cologne, which lingered on me. I remembered the feel of him as he’d pulled me down on top of him, desperate to have me. The look in his eyes as he’d watched me and the sound of his moans and ragged breathing.

  And I felt aroused again, which was better than feeling empty, and I held on to that feeling all the way home.

  I was tired enough to sleep. It turned out I was even more tired than I’d thought. I was exhausted. I climbed the stairs to my bedroom with Pango close behind me, stepped out of my jeans and fell onto my bed. I pulled the comforter over me so that I was lying on half of it and the other half covered me, and I tucked my face into it and let the abyss take me away.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Kicks.”

  I peeled my eyes open. Saw a blurry blob standing next to my bed. Closed them again. My head throbbed. “Oh. My. God.”

  “Threw a few back last night, did we? You shouldn’t drink by yourself, Kicks.”

  “I didn’t.” My voice felt like sandpaper vibrating along my vocal cords.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No.” I was getting pissed that he was making me talk. The sound of my own voice made my head hurt, and my stomach roil.

  “Are you sick?” He carefully sat on the bed next to me, placing the back of his hand against my forehead, then my cheeks. “You’re warm. I think you’re sick.”

  “I’ll be fine.” I sat up. Took a few deep, slow breaths and the world came into focus. Still, I just wanted to crawl under the covers and hide. “I just need. . .”

  He watched me, assessing. “What?”

  Pango’s head appeared on the bed. I saw movement. Her tail was wagging, slowly, unsure.

  I shook my head then regretted it. “Coffee. Please.”

  “Okay. Get in the shower. I’ll make it.”

  I nodded and regretted it again then closed my eyes against a ripple of pain. “Strong, Jack. Okay?”

  “Is there any other way to make coffee?”

  “Right.”

  I felt his weight lift off the bed as he slowly climbed out of it. He headed toward the bathroom.

  Pango hesitated in the doorway, looking back at me.

  “It’s okay, pretty girl. Go with Jack.”

  She turned and headed down the hall and down the staircase after Jack.

  I turned the shower on cool to wake myself up. Could I be getting sick? But I knew better. I’d felt like this before, and it had been getting worse, with every session I had with Lucas. It felt like a hangover.

  It was a hangover.

  He was my bottle. My drug. This was the aftermath.

  I stood under the cold spray for a few moments then adjusted the water to warm. I leaned my arms against the tile and lay my forehead on an arm, watching the water move between my feet. The feet that were finally starting to heal.

  “Christ,” I murmured. This shit had to stop.

  Why did I feel so bad after having sex with Lucas? Because he was bad for me? He was a person I shouldn’t have started having a sexual relationship with for too many reasons. He was also someone who tweaked all my abandonment issues. He was unavailable.

  Just like me.

  And he was my escape. It had turned into an addiction.

  But I wasn’t quite ready to stop just yet. The thought of stopping sent fear and panic shivering through me.

  Maybe I could just slow down.

  Yeah. Right.

  I finished my shower and dressed in a comfortable, soft pair of jeans and a turtleneck, and went downstairs to join Jack. The coffee smelled incredible.

  “Feeling better?�
��

  I filled a mug he had already placed next to the coffee pot for me.

  “A little. Thanks.” I headed for the living room and my overstuffed sofa, curling up on one end with my mug resting on the arm.

  My cell sang out Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing. I glanced at it, snuck a guilty dog glance at Jack.

  “Lucas.” It was a statement. Not a question.

  “Uh huh.”

  “Nice.”

  “You have no idea,” I said. “Hey,” I said into the phone.

  “They’ve found another one, Leah.”

  I closed my eyes. Squeezed them tightly. “No.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I looked at Jack and he read my mind.

  “Oh, Christ. Not another one.”

  “Where is she?” I asked Lucas.

  “She was under the ice. Snowmobilers found her. Hudson River.”

  I swallowed down tears as I listened to his directions. I knew where she was.

  “They are processing the scene now,” he said. His voice sounded tired. Resigned.

  For a long moment I said nothing.

  “Leah?”

  “Yeah.” The energy had seeped out of me. I stared at the floor.

  “Are you okay? You don’t need to go there.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I do.”

  I had to go there. I had to see what the monster had done to this woman. The horror, the tragedy. The very reason I kept doing this job, was for people like this woman. I wasn’t going to protect myself from it now.

  I ended the call. Looked up at Jack.

  He stood slowly. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Want to? No. Need to? Yes.”

  “All right. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  She lay on top of the ice when we got there. I could see her dough white skin shimmering under gloom darkened sky, casting her with a slightly blue hue. Police, medical examiner and crime scene investigators worked morosely around her, trying to do whatever they could for her now that she was gone.

  Lucas came toward us, palms held outwards. “They won’t let you in this time.”

  I stopped, looked up at him. The expression on his face made my heart sink further into my chest. “Why not?”

  “They don’t want any interference, any chance of evidence being disturbed.”

  I shook my head a little. “It’s okay. I don’t really need to see her.”

  “No,” he said, one hand on my arm. “You don’t.”

  “Do they know who it is?” I asked him. But I already knew the answer to that question. It was in his eyes.

  “They do. Leah…”

  “Goddamn,” I whispered. My chin trembled. I turned, hunching my shoulders and squeezing my eyes shut. “Goddamn.”

  He didn’t have to say it. The woman they had pulled out of the icy water was Alexia Clemmons.

  I dropped to my knees in the snow, a guttural sound escaping my lips, and I covered my face and cried.

  * * *

  “I’ll take you home,” Jack said, leading me to the truck.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not going home.”

  Jack stared at me. He didn’t know what I needed. For once in our friendship, he was truly at a loss.

  I ran both hands through my hair, scratching my scalp. I needed sensation. I knew what I needed. “Would you go talk to Dr. Clemmons? See if there’s any chance he did this? I can’t look at him right now, Jack. Not if he’s guilty, and not if he isn’t. I just can’t do it.”

  “Yeah. Absolutely.” But he didn’t move. “What are you going to do?”

  “I want to be somewhere else right now. Anywhere else. But not home.” I knew I wasn’t making much sense but I really didn’t much care.

  Lucas placed an arm around me. “I’ll take her.”

  Jack’s eyes turned steely as he all but glared at Lucas. “Okay.” He paused, looking at me. “I’ll see you later. Let you know what I find out.”

  I nodded. “Thanks, Jack. I’ll be okay. I just need to catch my breath.”

  But he had already turned and was heading back to his truck.

  * * *

  “Where do you want to go?” Lucas asked me.

  Anywhere I can have you inside of me. But I was going to try to hold off. I was having a serious problem, my faith in basic human goodness was completely shaken.

  “To a church.”

  He paused. “Okay. Which one?”

  “I don’t care. I’m not exactly a patron of any of them. They would all gladly toss me out if they knew me. So any church will do, really.”

  Lucas led me to his Mercedes and opened the door for me. It was a beautiful car. Leather seats. Impeccably clean. Sitting in it I had the sense that I was somehow dirtying it. That I’d leave marks, or smudges, or somehow stain it.

  I saw Lucas glance at me from the corner of my eye as I watched the road ahead of us, and realized that I was sitting slightly forward in the seat. Trying not to touch too much of it. With a concerted effort, I allowed myself to sit back against the seat. They were heated, which was nice, and I let myself find comfort in the warmth coming from them.

  “Are you okay?” He asked me. Stealing glances at me.

  “I’ll be fine,” I murmured.

  The deaths of Alexia and her unborn baby hung heavy all around me. I wouldn’t be able to shake them easily or anytime soon, and I didn’t really want to. Somehow, it seemed right that I was this shaken. This sorrowful over their deaths. I used to think that keeping an emotional distance from the horrible things that happened to the victims was the way to go. But I’ve learned that it isn’t so. If you don’t feel it, all of it, the crushing weight of the tragedy, then maybe you don’t have the empathy and fire to really do the job right.

  It’s my theory. And Jack tends to agree with me.

  Lucas pulled up to a gorgeous old church, built in Gothic style, grey brick. I didn’t make a move to get out of the truck, but sat watching the church, silent.

  “Do you want to go in?”

  “Want to? No. Should I? Depends on your perspective.” I was babbling. “Yeah.” I unbuckled my seat belt and opened the door, feeling a cold blast winter hitting me in the face. It felt good.

  There were no sessions going on, and the parking lot was empty except for one car.

  The church was silent and warm. I made my way with Lucas behind me to the first bench on my left, sliding in. Lucas hesitated for a moment, not knowing if I wanted him there or not.

  “You don’t have to stay,” I told him.

  “I don’t mind, if you don’t mind me being here.”

  “It’s okay.” I leaned forward, clasping my hands on the bench in front of me. “I don’t really know how to do this,” I said.

  “I don’t think anyone will be offended,” Lucas said, sliding in beside me.

  But I hadn’t been talking to Lucas. I’d been talking to God. By way explanation, my apology, maybe, for not listening to his voice all these years.

  I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead on my hands. I’ve been pretty angry with you for taking Susie from me. For my family blowing apart. Mostly I blamed myself, and still do, for her abduction. I wondered all these years if it was punishment for something I did or didn’t do.

  I took a deep breath. Let it out. This wasn’t easy for me. Look. If you’re really there, I need something to keep me going. I need something to bring back some kind of faith in humanity. A belief that I used to have in basic human goodness. Otherwise, I don’t know if I can keep doing this. And maybe that’s what you’re actually trying to tell me. That I shouldn’t be doing it. Is that it? I know that I’m not supposed to question you. But if you know me at all, that doesn’t really work for me. I question everything. It’s how you made me. So…why? Why do you let these things happen? Why do you let innocent people suffer? Be murdered in such atrocious ways? Why do you do that? Children? Babies? Are you kidding me? Why? I looked up at Jesus hanging on the cross.
He wasn’t answering.

  I closed my eyes again. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I feel like I’m lost and I don’t know how to find my way back to…to me. I don’t know if you’re really there, listening to me. But if you are, I need something. Okay? Please? Just give me something. A small thing. Something to keep me going.

  I waited a moment, to see if God would send me a sign.

  He didn’t.

  * * *

  I wanted to just ride around for a while. We headed up to Lake George. It was quiet. No tourists. We found a bridge overlooking the ice and parked. Neither of us said anything for a while. Lucas sat with me, just letting me be quiet.

  “I’ll be all right, you know,” I said to him, not taking my eyes off the frozen lake.

  “I know you will.”

  But I needed something. I needed to feel something other than this grief for Alexia and her baby, and the rage for what had happened to her.

  I got out of the car and walked over to the concrete barrier of the bridge. Chilled air blew into my face, making my eyes water. I lifted my face to the wind and breathed it in. My lungs hurt, the air was too cold. Too raw. But anything felt better than what I was feeling inside.

  An image of the day I met Jack flashed into my mind. My father hadn’t come to see me in Juvee on visitor’s day. I’d hoped he’d bring my brother, but he hadn’t come at all. My eyes had been closed and I was pressing a cigarette to the skin on my inner arm, palm faced toward me.

  Don’t do that.

  I’d opened my eyes to see what looked like an angel standing in front of me, red hair ablaze with a bright sun shining behind him, his face in shadow.

  It had been Jack.

  That had been so many years ago. He’d rescued me then. Taught me how to fight. Made me strong.

  But something had snapped in me. Broken. I was broken. And I needed something to dull the pain. I didn’t smoke anymore.

  I turned and reached up, pulling Lucas’s face toward me. I found his mouth and moved my tongue over his. The warmth of his kiss sent a quiver through me, and I trembled against him. I pressed my body against his. He grew hard against me, and I moaned against his mouth. Heat pooled between my legs and I moved against him. He did a slow grind, pushing against me, sending a thrill of pleasure through me.