Pulse (Revenge Book 5)

by Trevion Burns

  “Oh, God,” Veda mumbled, already knowing what was coming as she began down the hall.

  “He’s in love with you,” Jake whispered in her ear, coming up next to her and matching her stride. “He’d handcuff you to his headboard and throw away the key if he could.” As Jake visualized that, he seemed to have a realization, his voice lowering. “I hate you.”

  “He is not in love with me.”

  “He kissed you.”

  “Right. Because nothing says ‘I want you naked’ like a kiss on the forehead,” Veda said sarcastically. “I’m trying to think of any kiss that’s less sexy and nothing is springing to mind. It’s the kind of kiss you give your elderly, bedridden grandma. The kind you give a five-year-old that just fell off their bike and scraped their knee. This is friend zone 101, Jake.”

  “Damn girl you’re in that deep denial.”

  “He’s just a good man who’s loyal and protective over his friends.”

  “Bitch, please.”

  “And speaking of handcuffs, thanks a lot for the shitty job you did packing my overnight bag.”

  “Apparently my brilliant plan worked. The man is all over you.” Jake nudged her, giving her a small smile that petered away in the next instant. “Seriously, Veda. After everything that’s happened, how are you?”

  “I’m fine,” Veda spat, shutting him down before the pity in his voice had a chance to go any further.

  Jake clapped his mouth shut at her tone, but a moment later, he pushed. “My mom lost a baby once. I was twelve. My dad was—”

  “Jake,” Veda warned through clenched teeth.

  This time, when he shut his mouth, he kept it closed.

  Veda eyed him, a shot of guilt rushing through her, voice apologetic as she tried to change the subject. “Why have I never met your folks anyway?”

  “Because your attitude is garbage.” Jake eyed her too, clearly still wounded by her tone. He recovered in an instant. “I’m sure you’ll meet them one day.”

  Relieved that she was forgiven, Veda nodded toward the pharmacy. “I’ve got fifteen minutes before my next patient. Let’s talk.”

  Once they made it to the hospital pharmacy, where Jake’s shift had just begun, giving horrified looks to every bizarre smiling face that greeted them the whole way, Veda closed the door behind them.

  Jake plopped down in the rolling chair at his desk, swirling in slow circles, his eyes pursuing the tall stacks of medications that filled the room before he rolled to his computer.

  He began clicking away on the keyboard and mouse. Apparently still wounded by her snippy attitude minutes later, he didn’t venture the subject of her baby, or her well-being, again. “You’ve got to see this website I found the other day.”

  Veda came up behind his chair and bent down, frowning at the website he pulled up. The site had a black backsplash with a picture of a gleaming scalpel at the top. A long list of red links zoomed down the page, each with a title discussing a different topic. Veda read the website name, blaring across the top of the page, over the scalpel in bold red letters.

  “The Chopper Cafe?” she asked, voice pinched.

  Jake nodded. “It’s a message board.” He paused at Veda’s confused face. “Dedicated to you! You’ve got fans. The media coverage of The Chopper has spread outside Shadow Rock. You’ve gone international.”

  “For God’s sake.” Veda cringed.

  Jake appeared disappointed that she wasn’t as excited as he’d apparently imagined she’d be, sputtering as he pointed toward the screen. “The board was started less than a week ago, and it already has two thousand members. Look. All the topics on the first page are from today alone. The media’s painted you as a woman seeking sexual vengeance, and people are moved by it. People are on your side.”

  Veda’s stunned eyes ran down the list of threads that were, amazingly, all dedicated—or inspired—by the Shadow Rock Chopper. One topic after the other, each more stomach churning than the last:

  My husband was jailed for killing my rapist!

  I drove my rapist to suicide.

  Is killing ever justifiable?

  What’s the *real* definition of patriarchy?

  The frown on Veda’s face deepened with each new thread title she read, none of which had less than twenty replies.

  “Make it go away,” she begged, covering her gurgling stomach with both hands.

  “Hell of a way to treat your fans,” Jake mumbled, clearly having believed she’d be happier with the news than she was. After clicking out of the website and opening up his email, he only slightly changed the subject. “Find any clues in Linc’s apartment about how close he is to catching your ball-snatching ass?”

  Veda sighed and sat on the edge of the desk, crossing her arms over her chest while eyeing the bulletproof glass window that looked out into the hallway. “Nope. I’ve snooped through his entire apartment about a million times. Nothing. Not a single piece of police paperwork in that entire place. He doesn’t leave anything sitting out. I’m counting on the fact that he’s so determined to find out who attacked me that he’s forgotten about The Chopper entirely.”

  Jake’s eyes widened as they searched the computer screen before him, his voice dragging as he whispered, “Think again, bitch.”

  Alarmed at his sudden change in tone, Veda followed his gaze, bending down next to him once more to get a better look at the screen of his computer. She only needed a moment to study the memo he’d pulled up in his email, a memo that had been sent out to every employee, to understand what had put that shock in Jake’s eyes.

  “Mandatory DNA screenings?” she hissed, elbowing him to the side so she could get a better look. “Cheek swabs?”

  “A week from today,” he said, his voice going to a faraway place. “Only the female employees too. Says it was ordered by—”

  “Shadow Rock PD.” Veda’s eyes fell closed.

  “Looks like he’s not dropping the ball on The Chopper after all.”

  Veda’s eyes remained closed, and soon, she’d dropped her elbows onto the desk entirely, burying her face in her hands. Her fingers sank into her hair, which she’d yet to tie into a bun, and she tugged at her curls. The feeling of Jake massaging her back came but didn’t relax her. A moment later, an animalistic groan left her lips.

  “Why would they need DNA?” Jake asked. “What do they have?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head, looking up with her fingers sunk deep into her hair. Her eyes dashed back and forth ass she tried to think. “I’m always so careful. The only piece of evidence I’ve ever left behind was the night a piece of my nail polish accidentally chipped off in Eugene Masterson’s living room. But there’s no DNA in nail polish…” Her words slowed to a stop.

  Nail polish.

  She shot to a stand.

  Veda screamed as she lost her footing and went flying down onto the uneven rocks, her body slamming against them so hard it stole her breath. And then he was dragging her, his hold on her ankle too strong to break free from. She clawed at the rocks as he pulled her back toward the edge, watching the tips of her nails breaking as she dug them into the black boulders, fighting for any leverage, kicking her free leg and screaming with all her might.

  Veda’s eyes fell to her false nails, painted fire red. The false nails she’d been wearing since her real ones had been ripped to the quick. Her mouth fell open. Her blood ran cold. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

  It hit her. Why Shadow Rock PD was running mandatory DNA screenings on every female employee in the hospital.

  This wasn’t about The Chopper.

  It was about Jax Murphy.

  Jax Murphy. Her number three. Whose murder case was apparently still open.

  They’d found the pieces of her broken nails on Blackwater Cliff, where Jax had died. Blackwater Cliff, where Hope had punched him square in the face and sent him over the edge.

  That had to be it.

  A small gasp made Veda’s chest constrict.r />
  “What is it, Veda? You look like you’ve seen a damn ghost.”

  Veda’s horrified eyes fell to Jake, but she didn’t answer, realizing that he still didn’t know.

  He still didn’t know about Jax. About the blood on Hope’s hands. About the blood that, apparently, was about to be transferred from Hope’s hands to Veda’s.

  A zap of terror blazed through her, and for the first time that morning, she wished she’d given in to Linc’s overbearing, overprotective ways, and taken another week off work.

  Because she had no doubt in her mind that Shadow Rock PD had collected ten broken, jagged nails from the cliffs at Blackwater Beach. That, in less than a week’s time, they’d be taking DNA to find out who those broken, jagged nails belonged to.

  And Veda’s would be a perfect match.

  18

  Lieutenant Chavez had been right. Linc was too emotionally involved. He knew he should walk away, but at the same time, he knew he wouldn’t.

  He couldn’t.

  His fingers trickled over the soft cotton of the black beanie he’d tucked his hair into, adjusting it as a group of giggling teenage girls passed him. He fought a cringe when every Victoria’s Secret body spray ever concocted assaulted his nostrils long after they’d passed. Narrowing his eyes, he pretended not to notice the young girls peeking over their shoulders to get one last look at him, whispering the whole way. He couldn’t blame them for staring, shifting his feet from where he was leaning behind a large oak tree. He didn’t exactly fit in. In fact, amongst the gangly adolescents socializing on the expansive lawn, he looked like a member of the WWE, who’d just happened to stumble onto their expansive schoolyard for no good reason.

  But Linc had very good reason.

  Huddling further behind the tree to shield himself from the yard, he drew in a breath, eyes lifting to the muggy morning clouds that refused to give the sun it’s proper shine, painting the entire sky gray and leaving the air so thick it was hard to breathe.

  But the struggle to breathe wasn’t new for Linc. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d completed a deep breath without a stab of white-hot pain slicing it clear in half.

  That moment was no exception, but he didn’t have time to pay it any mind as a silver Mercedes-Benz S-Class pulled up to the curb of the school. Zena Jones hopped out of the passenger’s seat wearing a white and navy school uniform. Her belly protruded just a tad more than it had the last time he’d seen her.

  Linc pushed off the tree but didn’t approach, muscles rigid, even though his pounding heart begged his feet to move. He waited for Zena to sling her backpack onto her shoulder and wave to her father in the driver’s seat. He waited for her to close the passenger door and for the Benz to drive off.

  Linc watched the gleaming vehicle go, waiting until her father had turned the corner and driven out of sight.

  Then he emerged from behind the tree, moving forward on a quick foot, his eyes dashing across the schoolyard to make sure there were no school officials or employees to witness him approach Zena and take her arm in his grasp.

  The gasp that raced up Zena’s throat when he took her arm, her gaze flying up to him, wide and terrified, sounded like a bomb going off to Linc. But another quick glance across the schoolyard showed that no one else had noticed.

  Reflexively, she tried to reclaim her arm, all while searching his face. She’d left her shock red hair down that morning, stretching past her waist in curly ringlets. It moved easily as she snatched at her arm. The bruising on her frowned up face was nearly gone, but the pain in her eyes still persevered.

  Then, in the midst of her struggle, she froze, squinting at him. “Detective Hill?”

  Linc pulled her back toward the far corner of the yard, behind the large tree he’d been huddled behind all morning.

  Once there, hidden behind the broad, aged bark, under the shadows of the leaves dancing with the morning breeze, he allowed her to yank her arm away.

  Her eyes flew all over the yard.

  “I’m sorry if I scared you,” Linc said.

  She looked up at him, her voice a mere whisper. “Are you allowed to be here?”

  He decided on the truth. “Not in any capacity.”

  Her eyes dropped, and so did her voice, reduced to a mumble. “My dad says you’re not allowed to talk to me without him.”

  Linc nodded, letting a moment of quiet pass. “Yeah, your dad says a lot of things. Turns out your dad also just purchased himself a brand new house in midtown. Pretty far cry from the shack you two lived in on the hill before you went missing.”

  Her blue eyes shot up to Linc’s. They widened.

  Linc nodded as if her blue orbs were speaking to him. “Nice car he just pulled up in too. Retails for 100k, last I checked. He also managed to get you admitted into this nice new school…” Linc tilted his head toward the school in the distance, a private institution that was just shy of a year old. The building had a modern finish. All glass, steel, and sharp lines. “10k a year. Pretty hefty tuition for a man who’s been living off social security for the last decade.”

  “I have to go.”

  Linc took her arm when she tried to walk off. “Zena, you’re not in any trouble. I just want to help you.”

  “You can help me by leaving me alone.” She tried to re-claim her arm, and this time, Linc released her.

  But she didn’t run.

  When she remained, looking up at him, big blue eyes filling with more moisture by the moment, Linc knew he had her. “Listen, if you want to leave, I won’t stop you. But just know… that phone number I gave you? You can call it anytime.”

  “I’m sure your boss would love to know that one of her employees secretly gave an underage girl his phone number, and is stalking her at school.”

  “I’m sure she would, too. But something tells me that if you were gonna let her know, you’d have done it already.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  He gave her a moment to argue. Nothing came. “I wanna show you something. Just up the street. I’ll have you back before first period.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Finally taking me up on my offer, Detective?” She reached out to stroke his arm.

  Linc reared away with an impatient gleam in his eyes.

  She gave a breathy chuckle. “You don’t give a shit about me. This is all about that precious little snow bunny you showed me at the hospital. She’s all you care about.”

  Linc had a moment of pause as she brought up Lisa. Every bone in his body nearly bent itself in half with the need to push for more. He knew she had information on Lisa he would kill for. Unfortunately, he still hadn’t earned her trust—not completely—and time was of the essence, so Linc let it blow by.

  For now.

  “I know you didn’t get knocked up by a pimp or a john,” he said. “I know you were pregnant before you went missing.”

  She pressed her lips together.

  Linc continued. “Did he molest you?”

  She rolled her eyes and looked back toward the schoolyard, crossing her arms tight.

  “Did he rape his own daughter and then sell her to the highest bidder—?”

  She scoffed with a soft shake of her head.

  “For the sake of supporting my theory, I’m gonna go ahead and take your silence as a yes. Yes, your father did sell you to the highest bidder. Which means that, as far as that highest bidder is concerned, they own you. Forever. I think you know that. And I think you know it’s only a matter of time before they come looking for what’s theirs.”

  Zena blinked rapidly when the tears in her eyes tripled. She studied him from the corners of her eyes, bopping on the heels of her feet over and over.

  “And when they do come looking… are they gonna face your father? The man who put you on the market in the first place? Or are they gonna face the police…?” Linc slapped his hand over his heart. “The people who’ll give their lives to protect you?”

  Her nostrils flared as she drew in a trembling
breath.

  Linc held his hands out, ignoring the soft shot of pain it sent through the wound still healing on his chest. “All I’m asking for is ten minutes.”

  A lump raced down her throat, and she shot one more wide-eyed look toward the school before sighing heavily and giving a soft nod.

  ——

  Martin Zhang, lead forensics investigator at Shadow Rock Police Department, looked over his shoulder as he led the way down a long flight of stairs, his white lab coat floating behind him.

  Linc and Martin shared a look, as well as a hitch of both their eyebrows, from over Zena’s head, where she was descending the steps between them, clutching the strap of her backpack with both hands. The steel body of the stairs wobbled and sang out as the three made their way to the bottom, into a warehouse that was near arctic level temperature.

  “Take all the time you need.” Martin faced Linc once they made it to the bottom of the stairs. He waited until Zena moved into the room, out of earshot, to whisper to Linc, condensation floating from his lips. “Not the first time you’ve put both our jobs on the line, Hill, so I won’t bother informing you that you owe me…” Martin looked at Zena, who was surveying the room a few feet ahead of them, before widening his eyes at Linc. “Big time.”

  “I got it. Appreciate it, Zhang.” Linc clapped a hand on Martin’s shoulder before passing him with a shake of his head.

  A chill raced through Linc’s body as he moved into the space. Since Zena was only wearing a schoolgirl uniform, he’d given her his coat, leaving him in nothing but a long-sleeved white t-shirt and jeans. Nowhere near enough coverage for the freezing cold room. He looked toward the staircase, which was wobbling once more as Martin climbed back up to the top. Once there, Martin gave Linc one last look over his shoulder—as well as a shake of his head—before re-entering the lab and closing the door behind him.

  Linc approached Zena.

  She didn’t look at him, still clutching her backpack as her eyes ran the room. “What is this place?”