Crossroads

by Chantal Fernando

  He glances around as if only just realizing where he is, and says, “Not staying here, but I don’t want to sit in the hotel playing the waiting game either. Is there any way I can see the footage of her before we leave though?”

  I nod and lead him into one of the rooms, gesturing for him to sit.

  Then I press PLAY and let him see my cousin and her kidnapper.

  EIGHT

  Ranger

  WHILE we’re waiting on the DNA results, we head to a café just down the road from the police station. There’s no point going anywhere too far because we’ll just have to rush back, and we both need to eat something. I skipped dinner last night, I wasn’t feeling hungry, but I saw that Jo had ordered room service, by the tray left outside her door in the morning, so at least she ate. While she was doing her own thing this morning, I went out and tried talking to some locals. They either know nothing or are too scared to talk, but either way, there was no information to be found. When Sin texted me last night with a number, I have to admit I was surprised. I had no idea the WDMC had a chapter out here, but he told me I can go to them for anything, and I feel relieved that I have men at my back should I need them. I’m hoping that we can find this asshole’s fingerprints or DNA from the car, then we can track him down and deal with him. He is the lead to finding Elizabeth. I don’t care what I have to do, I’ll do it. I’ll torture him to find out her whereabouts if I have to. Seeing her on that video . . . it was hard to watch. My mind is now running wild with all the shit that could have been done to her, and it’s making me want to kill someone.

  A waitress approaches, smiling warmly at both of us. “What can I get you both today?”

  “I’ll have a coffee, please,” Jo says, scanning the menu. “And a ham-and-cheese croissant.”

  “Excellent,” the waitress says, making a note. “And for you, sir?”

  “I’ll have a coffee too, and the bacon and scrambled eggs. Thanks.”

  She writes that down, then tells us that the food won’t be long. I glance across the table at Jo, whose eyes are already pinned on me. Today she’s in tight jeans and a white T-shirt, and her hair looks like she’s run her fingers through it several times, almost like she’s just been fucked. Even with no makeup on, she’s stunning. A natural beauty—something very rare in today’s day and age.

  “So you’re her cousin,” I say, leaning back in the booth. Elizabeth never mentioned much about her family, just her sister, so I have no idea how many cousins she has, or if she’s close with them, so I decide to ask. “Are the two of you close?”

  Jo nods, sadness flashing in her blue eyes. “Yeah, we’re close. We went to different schools and everything, but family is important to us. We always kept in contact, and saw each other whenever we could. She used to live a few hours away, in a small town, but I saw her the weekend before she went missing, actually. She’d just moved, five minutes away from my house. I helped her move all of her furniture in.”

  So that explains why Elizabeth was at that biker bar—she’d actually moved to my town. I wonder what brought her to the city. Right now she’s probably wishing she’d stayed in our sleepy hometown, which makes me sad, because that place is a shithole. This is not the introduction to city life she needed.

  Our coffee appears, and the two of us go silent until the waitress leaves.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” I blurt out, realizing I have no idea if she’s taken or not. She’s not wearing a wedding ring, although I have no idea why it matters to me.

  It doesn’t.

  I’m just curious.

  “Nope,” she says, eyes on her coffee. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just wondering,” I say, picking up the tiny cookie next to my coffee and popping it into my mouth.

  “Not every man can handle a cop as his girlfriend,” she admits, shrugging. “Tried a few times, it never really worked out. I’ve been single for a while now, and I’m okay with it. It’s not like I have much free time anyway.”

  But what about sex? I wonder. She can’t pretend that she doesn’t miss having a man’s hands on her, a man’s mouth on her pussy, licking at her clit until she screams. Then again—it’s been a while for me too. I shift on my seat, my cock hardening at the thought of Jo spread before me as I have my mouth on her. Fuck. This is not what I need to be thinking of right now.

  “How about you?” she asks, bringing the mug to her pretty lips. “No girlfriend?”

  I shake my head. “Nah.”

  “How come?” she asks, putting the mug on the saucer and tilting her head to the side. “You’re a good-looking man, and women dig the bad boys.”

  “Are you stereotyping me?” I ask, lips twitching. “Finding a woman isn’t hard, but finding a good one is. Although it’s not like I’ve been looking. I don’t know if I’d make a good boyfriend, to be honest. I’ve never really had any long-term girlfriends.” I pause and consider that. “Never met one who I wanted to keep.”

  “Keep? You make women sound like puppies,” she says, smirking. “Maybe you just haven’t met the right one yet. Or maybe there’s no such thing as the right one, who knows. I think the people who stay together are the ones who make the choice to do so. It doesn’t just happen, and you have to want it more than anything.”

  “That’s not very romantic,” I tease, loving listening to her voice her opinions. She’s definitely interesting, different, and smart. Why does she have to be a fuckin’ cop? Maybe that is what makes her so different though. Fuck, I can’t win.

  “My life isn’t very romantic,” she admits, ducking her head. “That’s more Elizabeth’s life. She’s always dating, always just loving life, being social. I’m not really like that. I don’t really like going out and meeting new people.”

  I can see Elizabeth being like that. When I knew her, she was shy, but she was always smiling, always up for an adventure. I can see her dating a lot, searching for romance and passion. She’s a dreamer, that one. I, on the other hand, am a realist. And although Jo claims to be one, I think she secretly wishes she had that passion too. A woman who hasn’t been treated right can claim they’re fine without passion, but it’s only because they don’t know any better. I imagine a well-loved woman would thrive in the world, and be a reflection of her man’s love and treatment.

  But what the fuck do I know?

  Actually, I’m probably a fuckin’ pro after living in the Wind Dragons clubhouse and observing all the couples, even Talon. They’re all different, but the love is there—you can see it. I’m the only single one in the house, since Ronan just found a new girlfriend. I really am the odd man out. It doesn’t bother me, exactly, it just makes me feel a little on the outside. Unlike in my old clubhouse, there are some nights where no one is in the clubhouse except me. That’s not really a clubhouse at all. Do I feel lonely? Is that what this is? Fuck, I have no idea.

  “You’re an introvert at heart?” I guess. I know the type.

  She nods. “I recharge when I’m alone, and being social drains me. At work it’s usually just me and my partner, Travis, and I know him well, so it’s fine. It’s comfortable. With my job I have to be confident at all times, and speak to people on a daily basis, so I can do it. Just that if I had my way, I’d prefer not to socialize.”

  The only thing I focus on in that sentence is the name Travis.

  Have the two of them ever fucked?

  “Just how close are you and your partner?” I ask, unable to help myself.

  Instead of getting offended and telling me to mind my own business, like I thought she would, she just laughs. “He’s like family to me. He’s good-looking and everything, but we don’t see each other like that. I get asked to hook him up with women a lot. They rave about his ‘very, very blue eyes.’ Apparently they’re hypnotic.”

  “That’s more information than I needed,” I mutter under my breath, making her laugh again. “So you don’t . . . have anyone you’re sleeping with right now?”

  I can’t take my eyes off her,
especially when she laughs. I don’t think I’ve ever been so attracted to a woman in my entire life.

  “No,” she says, ducking her head. “I’m not sleeping with anyone. How about you? Or do I even have to ask?”

  “I think you’d be surprised,” I say, gaze lingering on her upturned lips.

  “Bikers have a reputation.”

  “So do cops,” I add, smirking.

  She rolls her eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t throw wild parties and women don’t throw themselves at you.”

  I choose to ignore that comment, because it’s true, although not for some time.

  “I haven’t slept with anyone in quite a while,” I admit, licking my suddenly dry lips. “No one has really appealed to me.”

  “Oh,” she says, eyes widening.

  “Yes, oh.” I grin, and then add, “Until now anyway.”

  She smiles, then looks down at her hands. “Sometimes I feel guilty for smiling, or for laughing. How can I laugh at all, when fuck knows what Elizabeth is going through right now?”

  Her words bring me back to reality, sobering my thoughts. All of this must be tough on her too. But she can’t really admit if she’s struggling, because it would make her seem insensitive in comparison to what her cousin is going through. That doesn’t mean her feelings aren’t valid. She’s a strong woman, and I can see that she’s trying to hold it together. Yes, she’s a cop, but at the end of the day she’s still a person.

  “You’re doing everything you can to save her, Jo. And you’re not giving up on her, and you won’t. I won’t either. That’s everything. It’s okay to laugh; in fact, it’s required. It’s hard on you too, and you need to do whatever you have to do to make it through this.”

  It’s the first time I’ve called her Jo out loud, but she doesn’t even seem to notice. Maybe everyone calls her that.

  “Yeah, I guess,” she replies. The food arrives, and both of us dig in. I personally think she should eat more, but I don’t voice my opinions. I don’t think they’d be appreciated.

  “So how did you get brought onto this case?” she asks, breaking the silence. “Is this something you do on the side or something? It’s a little unusual, don’t you think?”

  I wipe my mouth with my napkin, then answer honestly. “This isn’t something I do, no. And it’s not something I’ll be doing again. Faye asked me for my help, and here I am.”

  “Are you and Faye close?” she asks, looking interested.

  “We haven’t actually known each other for long,” I say, wondering the best way to explain this. I never give out a lot of information about my club, and now isn’t an exception, especially with her being a cop. I want to share everything with her, but I’d be stupid to tell her anything that could bite me in the ass later.

  “Really?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. “Have you ever been . . . more than friends?”

  “Definitely not,” I say, unable to stop the laughter that escapes me. “She’s been with her husband for a long time, the two of them are the couple of all couples.”

  Jo smiles, watching me. “She’s a force to be reckoned with, isn’t she?”

  “That’s an understatement,” I say, lips twitching. “She grows on you.”

  “Like a fungus?”

  I nod. “Like a fuckin’ fungus.”

  She grins and takes a huge bite of her croissant.

  Fuck, I’m in trouble, because that grin hits me right in my chest.

  NINE

  WHEN we get the call that the results are in, we rush back to the station. Jo looks over the paperwork while the man who handed it to her starts to explain. There were four different fingerprints on the car. He ran them in the database, and one belongs to the owner. Two belong to two other men. One belongs to Elizabeth. He found different DNA in the car, as well. So if we find a suspect, he can do a test to see if the DNA from the car matches.

  “So we now have two names to work with,” Jo says, glancing up at me. “Are you ready for this?”

  I nod. “More than ready.”

  • • •

  It’s completely inappropriate, but I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on in my life as I am right now, watching Jo get ready for battle. Watching her check those guns, knowing exactly what she is doing, is making my dick strain against my jeans. She’s in full professional mode, testing the weight of each gun in her hands, sliding knives into secret sheaths and making sure we have enough bullets. I don’t even know what to say right now. All I can do is watch as she does her thing, hoping she doesn’t see how it’s affecting me. She tucks a knife inside her boot, then raises her head, her blue eyes landing on me, her blond hair falling over her cheek bone.

  I’ve never seen someone so beautiful.

  “All you’re taking is one gun?” she asks, arching her brow. “Do you want any other weapons? I probably shouldn’t be offering, but I want you to be protected.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not just taking one gun. I have these too,” I say, flexing my biceps.

  She makes a sound of amusement deep in her throat. “I don’t think anyone else would joke in a time like this. We’re about to raid someone’s house,” she says, straightening and flexing her neck from side to side.

  “You obviously don’t know Faye very well,” I mutter, standing from the table I was resting on. She makes jokes at the most inappropriate times. “How many men are you bringing with us?”

  “Men? You mean officers. Some of them are women—don’t be sexist,” she says with no heat in her tone.

  I walk up to her, so our bodies are almost touching. “You know what I mean.”

  “No, I don’t,” she says, lifting up her little stubborn chin. “Why don’t you explain it to me? And why don’t you stay in the car and let the cops handle this? You might just get in the way.”

  I lick my lips, ignoring her ridiculous comment, wanting nothing more than to taste her lips. Yes, it’s probably the worst timing in the history of the world, or is it? Who knows what could happen in there today? Well, nothing to her, because I’m going to protect her with everything I have, but what if something happens to me? What if this is the only chance I have?

  Fuck it.

  I place my hands on her hips. Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t say anything, so I continue. I lift her in the air, so her face is level with mine, and her arms come around my shoulders, so naturally, like they’re meant to be there. Then, I kiss her. Softly at first, testing my boundaries with her. I don’t know what she’s thinking. I don’t even know if she likes me, but I fuckin’ like her, so too bad. She tastes like strawberries, her mouth so soft and perfect that I hope she never stops kissing me. When she wraps her legs around my waist, holding on to me completely, I’m in heaven. I let my hands roam over the curve of her ass, groaning as the kiss deepens, becomes hungrier and more desperate.

  Kissing her is the best decision I’ve ever made.

  It’s me who pulls away, because I don’t want another cop to come in and see this and then give her shit. They might lose respect for her and not treat her the same, and then I’d have to do something stupid to defend her. I rest my forehead against hers and tell her, “After this is all over, I’m taking you out on a real date. Old-school style.”

  “Are you telling me or asking me?” she says, sounding breathless.

  “Telling,” I say, grinning and kissing the corner of her mouth before putting her back down onto the floor.

  She looks a little dazed, and she confirms it when she mutters, “What just happened here?”

  What happened was, she just became mine.

  But I’ll let her figure that out for herself.

  • • •

  Ten of us storm inside the house. Never once in my life did I think I’d be working with a team of police, but here I am, and if it saves Elizabeth, then I’m perfectly okay with it. I had to compromise and promise them I’d stay in the back, out of their way. I get that I don’t know anything about their rules and regulations
, but they’re stupid to underestimate me. I’m an asset and they should utilize that, not make it a point to tell me that they don’t want or need me here.

  We kick in the door and enter the house, fanning out to cover all the rooms. “Put your hands up!” one of the officers yells when he comes across a man sitting on the couch in the living room. He puts his hands behind his head while two of the cops keep their guns trained on him. In any other situation, I’d have felt bad for the guy. He was just sitting there, trying to enjoy a beer, now he’s on his knees on the carpet wondering where he went wrong in his life. I stick with Jo, watching as each room is searched. No one else seems to be in the house, and the man they have is not the one on the gas station footage with Elizabeth, but that doesn’t mean he’s not connected in some way, or that he doesn’t know anything. We can’t miss any little details here, because something small could lead us to find her. If I’m given an hour alone with this man, I can find out everything he knows, without a doubt. However, I don’t think the cops would approve of my methods, and they’re the ones running the show.

  For now anyway.

  I’m walking down the hallway when I feel something under my feet, something different from the rest of the flooring, like there’s something under the carpet. I stop, pressing down hard on my feet, then test the area around it. It feels different.

  “Jo!” I call out, bending down and touching the carpet with my fingers while she turns around and retraces her steps back to me. “There’s something under here.”

  She pulls the knife from her boot and hands it to me. I cut through the carpet and sure enough, there’s a trapdoor under there.

  “A secret basement?” I guess, ripping up more carpet to expose the entire door. When I touch the carpet near the skirting of the wall, I realize I didn’t need to cut up the middle, because I could have actually just lifted the carpet up from the side. It was just very well concealed. I share a look with Jo, who calls some of the team over. I lift open the door, and it makes a loud bang as it falls backward against the floor, exposing the opening. I look inside, but all I can see is darkness.