40. River
RIVER
I ’ve always had a habit of bringing my work home with me but even I can admit this is taking things to the next level. Every shred of information we have on Zach is laid out across the living room.
Papers coat the coffee table like an extra layer of varnish, surveillance images are stuck to the TV screen, and the floor is stacked with files outlining every detail of Zach’s life.
I stare at the large map tacked up on the wall with markers triangulating the abduction sites, the shops Zach visited and the three counties to which the echinacea laevigata is native.
I checked with Millie’s parents, and she hadn’t visited any of those counties prior to going missing so the chances are Zach took Millie to one of them. A big red circle outlines the possible radius but it’s far too large an area.
Now Zach knows we’re tracing his bank card we’ve lost the advantage, and we’ve spent the last two days scrambling to get it back. We even roped in Luke to help and the six of us have been sifting through all the data we have, going over and over the profile we’ve built in an effort to find Harley.
Zach’s had her for over two weeks now. If he follows the same timeline as with Millie, then she’s only got four days left.
We’re running out of time.
I close my eyes, having to make a conscious effort to hold tight to the threads of my control.
Ever since I crossed the line with Freya, I’ve been so damn careful to not let that control slip again.
I got too close to the edge and my punishment is waking up every day and having to live with the knowledge that I hurt the most important person in my life. I refuse to let it happen again.
The law exists for a reason but I’m all too aware that working inside the lines isn’t getting us anywhere.
I close the file I’ve been reading and glance over at Oz. “What about the van? Have we had any hits?”
Oz shakes his head. “A few, but nothing that leads anywhere.”
I grind my molars together. A single, partial image of a blue van, taken from a security camera across the street from the furniture shop, is the best lead we’ve got. If we could trace it, we might find Zach. But the image is blurred at best, and it doesn’t show the license plate.
Frustration darkens my mood and my gaze drifts to Freya. Something loosens inside of me seeing her there, sitting cross-legged on the couch, her brow pinched in concentration. I count the freckles on the bridge of her nose and remind myself that she’s safe, that we won’t let anything touch her.
A folder lies open across her lap, but she’s given up on reading it, her gaze lost in space as she turns the chess piece Zach had Allie deliver over and over in her fingers.
“Freya,” I say, the hairs on my arms spiking as I recognize that look. “What is it?”
She grimaces before placing the black queen on the coffee table. “We need to do something different. Zach spent years working for the FBI, he knows all of our steps. We need to stop thinking like profilers. It’s not enough.”
Jude looks up at her from where he’s sitting on the floor. Black bags hang under his eyes, and he should be resting but he won’t. Not until we’ve found Harley. He shoves the psychology book he’s been reading aside. “This clearly isn’t working, so I’m game. Any ideas?”
Freya’s eyes dart to me before she answers. “We need to draw him out.”
“No.” I pin my gaze on her, knowing exactly where her thoughts are going. “We’re not using you as bait.”
“Our profile of Zach, of why he’s doing what he’s doing, it all comes back to me,” she says, perfectly calm while a storm is brewing inside of me. “He named himself the Little Star Catcher. His victims look like I did. Allie said he kept calling her Annie.”
My grip on the armchair tightens. “I mean it Freya, we’re not using you as bait.”
“Maybe we don’t have to.” Freya’s gaze settles on the chess piece. “There’s two of me.”
“You want to trick him,” Jude says.
Freya glances my way, the wariness in her gaze telling me I’m not going to like what she says next. “I want to con him.”
“No.” The response leaves me on reflex.
“River…”
I stand up and straighten my cuffs. “We do this by the book. Find another way.”
I don’t want to argue with her, so I leave the living room and head to my office.
Even just thinking about pulling a con has my childhood dragging me back kicking and screaming. I vowed I would never be like my parents. It’s why I hold myself to such rigid standards, why I became an FBI agent. For my whole adult life I have operated on the right side of the law. Until Freya.
I brace my hands on my desk, my shoulders bunching as I lean against it.
I am very aware that I was raised with no morals. My parents cared for no one other than themselves and by the time I was placed in foster care it was too late.
I give myself rules because they are the only ones I’ll follow. I present a well-adjusted front but some core part of me doesn’t believe the law applies to me. I lock that part up tight every fucking day, but Freya has it rattling its cage.
The door opens behind me and Freya’s barely taken one step before I drag her into the room and meld my lips to hers. I spear my fingers through her hair and hold her to me as I devour her. It’s a punishing kiss, all of my anger at her for unravelling me stamping her lips and nipping at her tongue.
My hands drop to her hips and when I finally let her pull away we’re both breathless.
Freya’s fingers splay across my shirt. “Can I at least explain my idea?”
“No. Turn around.”
“River…”
I back her against the wall, dark shadows clouding my vision. “Turn. Around. Freya.”
Her hazy green eyes implore up at me.
“Now.”
Disapproval digs at her brow, but she relents and turns to face the wall.
I step up behind her, pressing my painfully hard cock against her soft, round ass.
I gather her hair to one side, leaving her neck bare, and trail my lips up the smooth, pale column of her throat.
“When I tell you to do something, you do it,” I growl.
“So let’s try that again. Hands on the wall, darling. Keep them there.”
Freya presses her palms flat on either side of her head and I hum in appreciation.
I lower her pants and use two fingers to peel her lacy panties down over the curve of her ass. My cock twitches. “Why do you always have me at the edge of my control?” I murmur the words against the shell of her ear, and she shudders in response.
It takes me two seconds to free myself from my pants and I palm my length before sliding it between her ass cheeks and teasing her core.
“Do you feel that? Do you feel what you do to me?”
I pinch her hip when she doesn’t reply, and her soft little gasp has me hardening even more.
“Yes, Sir.”
I slide my length back and forth, the pleasure rolling through me and sharpening my senses. “The truth is Freya, I have no control when it comes to you.”
I circle my hand around the front of her throat, her pulse fluttering under my fingertips. “I may collar you, but you have my heart on a leash.”
I thrust forward, burying my cock inside her tight cunt. With one hand on her hip and the other around her neck, I fuck her against the wall.
She’s so wet I can hear each stroke and my balls tighten. I move my hand to her breasts, kneading the soft flesh and tweaking her nipple until her head falls forward, her fingers scraping the paint.
“River,” she moans my name and I pinch harder, thrust deeper.
“Come for me, darling. For once in your life do as you’re told and come for me.”
She breaks apart, her breath hitching and her pussy convulsing around my thick cock.
I cover her hands with mine, pinning her to the wall as I bury myself deep and spill inside of her.
I breathe against her neck, sucking at the skin there until it blooms red and purple with my mark. I like seeing the bruises I leave on her but that’s the only time she’s allowed to get hurt. I know she won’t have given up on this plan of hers, but I refuse to put her in danger.
I close my eyes. If only it were that simple. If only she didn’t have my whole heart.
“The truth, Freya,” I whisper against her skin, “is that I’ll do anything you ask. So please don’t ask me for this.”
Slowly, we come apart and she turns around to face me. I tuck myself away and pull her panties and pants back up, liking that she’ll feel me seeping out between her thighs.
“What are you so scared of River?”
I sigh and back up to sit on the edge of my desk. “You know both my parents went to prison when I was a kid?”
She nods and I can tell she wants to come closer, so I reach out and drag her to me till she’s settled between my legs. Even when I’m mad at her, space is the last thing I ever want when it comes to Freya.
“My mom got out six years ago. She never came looking for me. Not once.”
Freya squeezes my hand. “Then she’s an idiot. She doesn’t know what she’s missing.”
I don’t answer that, because my mom does know me, she just decides over and over that I don’t matter.
“You are not your parents, River.”
“I have firmly drawn lines for a reason. You saw what happened when I crossed those lines. I hurt you.” Barbed wire twists around my heart, guilt a bitter taste on my tongue.
I will never forgive myself for what I did to Freya.
I’d been so blind to everything except my need to have her and because of that, I’d almost lost her.
I need to be more careful. “Honestly, it would be so easy for me to be just like my parents. To think of only myself.”
Freya’s fingers draw patterns on my thigh. “You’re scared that you’ll lose yourself, that you’ll go dark again.”
I nod. “Yes, but only because I know if I do, I’ll lose you too.”
Her eyes pierce into me, stubborn determination fiery behind the green. “I won’t let that happen. And this is different, River. It won’t be like what your parents made you do. I’m not asking you to con innocent victims. I’m asking you to help catch a killer.”
My hands drop to her waist, and I run my thumbs over the bare skin under her t-shirt.
“You know,” Freya murmurs, “Farrah talked to me on the plane before we went to Oz’s parents.”
Pain cuts into my chest like it does whenever I think of Farrah. She was a good friend, and I miss her every time I step into her office.
“She told me that I wasn’t just the daughter of a serial killer, and I wasn’t just a profiler. I was both and I should use both . That’s what would give me the edge. You can use the skills your parents taught you to do something good, River.”
I grunt. That does sound like the sort of thing Farrah would say. The woman was always far wiser than me. My breath puffs out of me. “Nothing illegal?” I ask.
“Nothing illegal.”
“And you’ll tell me if I take it too far?” I’m still worried that if I cross one line, there won’t be anything stopping me from crossing them all. From doing whatever it takes to stop Zach, no matter who gets hurt in the process.
“You won’t.”
I raise a brow and Freya rolls her eyes.
“But yes, if you go all psycho again, I’ll kick your ass. Happy?”
“Ecstatic.” I’m smiling as I press my lips to hers. “Alright. Let’s go plan a con.”