Chapter Seven
Love You Like a Love Song and Lousy Interrogations
Elliot
I pace my office as Sam's gaze follows me back and forth. “Why can’t you just hack into his computer or even car and find out Raymond’s location like you’ve done a thousand times before?”
“While I’d love to hack his car and blast Selena Gomez on the radio, I don’t think it’ll help us.
Might make us feel good though. You know what, I’m getting into the idea now.
Let’s just do it.” He takes his phone out of his pocket.
To do a bit? To actually hack a random man’s car? Who knew with him?
“You know what I meant.” I fix Sam with an annoyed look. I nip it in the bud before we get sidetracked again. Besides, Adrian will be here in a few minutes. That’s not even enough time to mess with someone’s radio.
Sam sighs and places his phone on the table. “It’s not as easy this time, okay? I lost track of Raymond after he moved from Boston. There’s no trace of him. He might be dead. This is the only thread I’ve found in years.”
I blow out a breath, continuing my pacing. “Yeah, okay.”
Sam gets to his feet and steps in front of me, bringing me to a halt. “If he’s alive, I’ll find him, okay?”
He fixes me with his most sincere look. He’s been looking better since that day in my kitchen. Maybe it was just the long and slightly unbelievable journey. “Okay.” I nod.
He flops back down on the chair. “Besides, how difficult can it be to make a man talk? They all love to talk about themselves.”
***
Twenty minutes later, Sam must be eating his words in my exam room, where he’s listening to our conversation.
Adrian came blazing in, radiating a firm, badass lawyer energy.
The guy manages contracts. Why does he need to wear a suit and tie like he has a court hearing in an hour?
He opened his laptop and immediately got to business.
He carries himself with such relentless purpose that anything unrelated to work feels like an interruption. The wall of professionalism has swiftly blocked any attempt to deviate from the topic.
“So, you’ll need permits, liability waivers, and vendor agreements.
I’ll look into the insurance requirements too and see if we’ll need to do something there.
” He types more words on his laptop. “Can you get me the names of the rescue centers participating in the program? I’ll coordinate with them, so I won’t have to go through you for everything. ”
No, Adrian, I can’t because I want you to go through me. “Sure.” I nod. “I’ll send the list as soon as I’ve finalized it.”
Sam has let me conduct the first meeting myself because I was adamant I could handle the interrogation.
I didn’t want him to meet the guy until I knew for sure he wasn’t dangerous.
Whether he turned out like his father is still up for debate.
What isn't? Adrian Sinclair doesn't know me.
Or he deserves an Oscar for how convincingly he plays indifferent, bordering on hostile.
I don’t know what I was expecting to happen when I met the son of the man who destroyed my life and didn’t have the courtesy to watch it burn into ashes. But it definitely wasn’t this pity with a dash of uncertainty.
The cocky and aggressively professional guy sitting in front of me was raised by a gruesome, heartless killer. Unlike me, he didn’t even have anywhere to flee. Because if the monster’s at your home, where do you even run?
He’s still typing something on his expensive laptop. I give my interrogation another try. “Did you grow up here?”
He doesn’t bother to look at me and continues typing away. “Boston. Have you finalized the sponsors yet? I can have the sponsorship agreements ready by tomorrow.”
He’s not giving me any break. A few more minutes and I’ll have to physically crack his head open to see what’s in there. “I have the list of sponsors ready. I’ll send it to you. So, were your parents lawyers too?”
He doesn’t look up from his laptop. “Mother’s a teacher. Father left when I was a kid.” His gaze moves to mine. “Listen, I don’t think we need to get into my personal life. We don’t really get to know each other for this to work.”
Well, that makes everything easy!
There’s a knock on the door. Adrian looks up from his laptop and turns to the door.
“Yes?” I ask doubtfully. Ashley never bothers to knock or only does it as a courtesy before barging in.
Sam enters the room with the smile he calls “The Charm Offensive”. Don’t ask. Adrian gives him a once-over before going back to his laptop like he’s not impressed.
I glare at Sam. What the fuck is he doing here? Our operation has a clear division. It always did. I’m the face, and he’s the man behind the computer. I face the danger as he helps avert it. While very smart, he’s not built to face a werewolf.
Sam ignores me and takes the only empty chair next to Adrian. “Don’t be rude, Elliot. Introduce us,” he says, keeping his eyes on Adrian.
“I don’t think that’s necessary, we’re almost—”
Sam interrupts me. “You type so fast. In my experience, if you have competent fingers, you’re competent at other things too.”
The rapid tap-tap of the keyboard comes to a stop. My jaw drops open. Adrian turns to Sam and raises an eyebrow. “My assistant types ninety words per minute, but hasn’t ever gotten a coffee order right. I wouldn't bet on that theory.”
“Maybe she just hasn’t found her calling yet.” Sam waves him off. “I’m Sam, by the way. Sam Parker. Elliot’s friend and the event's main sponsor. You must be the immensely helpful lawyer handling our paperwork for us?” He offers his hand.
Adrian takes it. His hand, built to a standard werewolf size, swallows Sam’s. This man is damaging my otherwise perfect blood pressure. After fighting off werewolves in their dens for years, this will be the cause of my death.
Elliot Rhodes. Legendary Veterinarian, Meh human. Died from watching his friend flirt with a psychopath's son who's also a dangerous werewolf in his own right.
The tombstone will be big, yes. But after literally killing me, the least Sam can do is spring some cash on my funeral expenses.
“Adrian Sinclair.” Does his voice go down an octave? Is the flirting thing working?
No, this is not happening. “Yes, and he has an urgent appointment with his doctor about some rashes.” I stage-whisper to Adrian, then turn to Sam. “You should really get them checked. They looked communicable.”
Sam smiles, no sign of discomfort on the man’s face.
“Turned out to be a minor sunburn, El. I love that you care so much.” He props an elbow on the desk and rests his chin in his hand, watching Adrian, whose smug little smirk says he's thoroughly enjoying the conversation. “What were you guys talking about?”
Adrian looks at me. “Are you sure you want to have this meeting in front of someone we might have to negotiate contract terms with later?”
“No, you’re right. That’ll be a conflict of interest. Sam, leave,” I say sternly.
Sam rolls his eyes. “What he means is we’re friends before parties to a future contract. It’s completely fine to discuss the details of the events with me. It’s a mutual project, really.”
Adrian focuses his intense gaze on Sam. “I don’t recommend my clients mix their professional and personal lives.”
“That doesn’t sound very fun now, does it?” Sam says.
“You can’t handle my kind of fun,” Adrian says, then he turns to me. “I have all the information I need for now. I’ll email you if I need something else.” He stands up to leave.
“Uh… we can order lunch and talk over all the details. Sam was just leaving.”
“I may have more questions too. How about you give me your number so I can call you anytime I run into trouble? Of legal kind, obviously.”
One side of Adrian’s lips lifts. “That’s going to be an expensive deal for you, Mr. Parker.
” He pulls a business card from his pocket, grabs a pen off my desk, scribbles a number on the back, and hands it to Sam.
“You look like you run into trouble off-business hours too. That one should be reachable.” He points to the scribble.
Sam turns the card over and smirks up at Adrian. “A lawyer and a psychologist? I’m sure you’re worth the price.”
“Work hazard,” Adrian says, winking before walking out of the office.
I wait until the bells over the clinic door signal his exit. All the while, Sam stares at the card curiously.
“What the fuck was that?”
Sam frowns in surprise. “A job done well?”
“You scared him away with all your…” I gesture at his whole body.
“Charm? Raw sexual magnetism?”
“Thirstiness,” I finish.
His jaw drops. “That’s how you flirt when you’re on a mission. Have you ever seen a Bond movie?”
“What’s badly flirting with the son of a serial killer going to accomplish?”
Sam smiles. “Elliot, you have your ways to get information. I have mine.”
I stare at him. “Your way was sitting in a room with a thousand screens and playing with keyboards and mouse or whatever you did with them. Not this.” I gesture toward the door Adrian just disappeared through.
“Hey, that was good flirting. Very apparent flirting. Don’t call it ‘this,’” He says, with air quotes and everything. “And now we have a way to make him talk about his personal life. You know he wasn’t going to do that in these work meetings.”
“But I don’t know what his intentions are yet,” I splutter.
Sam looks at me like I have grown another head. “While those cheekbones and the canvas of muscles can keep me entertained for a very long time, I’m not planning a marriage here. What are you talking about?”
I take a breath. “I mean, I don’t know if he’s dangerous yet.
Don’t you find it weird how simple all of it was?
You found him right when we were ready to put this whole thing to rest, and Raymond was the last piece of the puzzle.
We didn’t have to work at all to reach him. Isn’t it all too convenient?”
Sam tilts his head, looking at me with pity.
“El, I know you think that man is invincible. Monsters from our childhood tend to appear that way. We grow up, but when it comes to them, we’re still those little kids, and they’re still those big scary ghosts refusing to leave.
But things are not the same anymore. I did not stumble upon him coincidentally.
I have a thousand alerts set up on the man. I did very advanced coding—”
“I know you’re smart and shit—”
“No, Elliot. I’m not just ‘smart’. I’m one of the smartest men in the country, and I’m on your side. Always. We’re going to get him this time, okay?”
I blow out a breath, some of the tension dissipating. “You can’t meet him without telling me and wearing a hidden tracker.”
He shrugs. “I don’t mind that. I can even wear a microphone if you want to be more protective.”
I scrunch my nose. “I can't survive another second of whatever you guys think counts as flirting.”
Sam laughs. “I have no idea how you bagged a hottie like Detective Lover Boy.”
“I don’t either,” I say in a rare display of honesty.
Sam doesn’t question me on that, but I almost wish he had when he opens his mouth again. “Why is Nick not here, though?”
I open my laptop to have something to do. “He doesn’t know about him.”
Sam’s eyebrows go up. “I thought things were good between you guys? You were being gross in the living room and kitchen just the other day.”
“It is.” I finally meet his gaze. “I have to see this through, okay. I just have to. And I don’t think he’s going to like that.”
Sam frowns. “He knows what you’re capable of. Sure, he might worry, but will he really stop you?”
“I don’t want to find out.”
Sam stares at me. “I think you’re underestimating the guy. He loves you and wants to help you every way possible. Didn’t he go against all his friends and his entire secret society to protect you?”
Way to kick me when I’m down, Sam. “He gets this expression. A mix of worry, doubt, and disappointment every time the topic of my past comes up. It’s hard to explain. But he hasn’t come to terms with it yet. And with the copycat killer, I’m worried…” Okay, that’s enough honesty for today.
“He’ll leave you?” Sam asks mockingly.
When I don’t say anything, his eyes go wide. “Elliot? C’mon. You can’t be serious. That man is not leaving you. If we have to fly to Indonesia, that man is going to pack his entire life and move across the world for you.”
I let his words wash over me, calm some of my worries. Just for a second. Then the logical part butts in, packing it all away in a trash bag and throwing it out.
“For someone he’s known for a few months? Someone who’s given him nothing more than trouble since the day we met? Someone who’s not just a flight risk, but untrustworthy and so completely broken that he’ll have to spend his entire life fixing?” My breathing gets fast, and my eyes sting.
That pity in his eyes is back again. I hate it. Every part of me wants to go back to a minute ago and take back my words. “Elliot—”
“Sam, don’t… I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I know what I’m doing. I promise I’ll tell him if we ever find Raymond. I promised him I’d never kill again, and I won’t without telling him everything. His response is future Elliot’s problem.”
Sam sighs. “Alright. Just don’t make his decision for him, okay? People are allowed to worry about you and love you. Don’t decide that they can’t.”
I take a deep breath in and nod. “I can’t believe you’re willing to whore yourself out for a mission,” I say when I feel like I can say another word without breaking down again.
Sam smirks. “Oh, honey, I’ll whore myself out for a lot less than your safety.”