CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
JAKE
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I lean back in my chair and blow out my breath. Thomas, Liam, Josh and I have spent hours in the boardroom combing through the information from the FBI and brainstorming.
I decide to share my final one.
“Caylee works for the orthodontist in the area as his assistant. Louisa Brown was a patient,” I say, and Josh lifts his gaze from his tablet, studying me.
I tap my pen on the notepad I’ve been scribbling on casually despite the built-up coil inside.
It can’t just be a coincidence.
The more I think about it, the more I can piece together some puzzle pieces and make them fit. But that’s not how these things work. Especially when you only have small amounts of information.
We don’t know anything about Brad.
But after learning more about these cases, I knew I had to speak up.
“Did she see something?”
“Wait, she ran off the day we saw her.” Liam quickly connects the dots. “Shit...I thought she was eager to get away from you.”
“Thanks, man.” I roll my eyes.
Thomas laughs.
“But yeah, it was the same time, roughly, as when Louisa Rockfield went missing.”
Josh slides his device away an inch. “Keep talking.”
“I think we should investigate Caylee’s boss. He was allegedly at the clinic when she disappeared, but if no one has been questioned, we can’t know for sure.”
Not that he would have been the one picking the kid off the streets. But it’s also not a good enough reason to not look into him further.
These people are smart and resourceful.
A high-earning dentist would be.
“Jesus. Let me crosscheck this.” Thomas starts banging on his keyboard. “What’s his name?”
“Doctor Thornton. Brad Thornton,” I reply and almost groan out loud when Cole walks past the door and comes to a screaming halt.
He heard his sister’s boss’s name.
“What’s going on?” Cole shoulders through the doorframe and casts his eyes around the room. They darken as they pass me.
I look to Josh for direction. This project is highly classified, and only a few people have been briefed. Behind his blank expression, I can see the clogs ticking.
“A girl went missing near your sister’s workplace this week,” Josh finally shares.
“Saw that,” Cole replies. He waits for more information and doesn’t get any. He then turns to me. “Can I speak to you when you’re finished here?”
“You going to punch me again?”
“There’s a fifty percent chance,” Cole answers.
Josh sighs and leans back in his chair, staring at us both like the pissed off Navy SEAL he is.
“Let me make this easy for you both. Jake, are you fucking his sister?”
Jesus.
Everyone stares, Liam with a told you so expression, and I decide to tell the truth.
“Yes.”
Cursing, Cole pushes away from the door, but before he can get far, Josh continues.
“Cole, is your sister underage, and does she want or need your protection?”
He freezes.
Then I watch as he grits his teeth and glares at me with an unspoken promise of bodily harm. I lift a brow because I like living on the edge.
“No,” Cole grounds out.
Don’t smile...don’t fucking smile.
I’d be lying if I said I’m not enjoying his discomfort. That my other eye will pay for it at another point is beside the point.
“Then both of you do your fucking jobs; otherwise, I will have to make some decisions. I can’t have this shit impacting the team.” Josh slaps the table and stands up. His eyes land on me. “But if you hurt Caylee, you’ll answer to both of us.”
“Yes, sir.”
I swallow discreetly because I am going to hurt her; that’s inevitable. If I were a good man, I’d walk away now. I should be putting my career and relationship with my colleagues and employers first.
Yet, I’m not.
Why the fuck is that?
Probably because I spend most of my days wondering what Caylee is doing, wondering what she’s eating for lunch. Wondering whether she’s been thinking about the way her body shudders as she comes around my thick cock. How her perky mouth parts and makes her look like a dirty little sex kitten.
My dirty kitten.
How I want to take her to my place and admire her lying in my bed while I pleasure her for hours with toys she’s never heard of.
How my fingers itch to run along the soft sweet skin of her anus and feel her strangle my dick again.
How she looks at me like I’m Superman and makes me want to be better. At everything.
Including being with her.
Despite knowing it’s impossible, I still daydream about these things.
My phone rings.
Mom.
Shit, it’s early in the day for a call from her. I stand, pushing away from the desk we’ve sat at for hours. “I have to take this.”
I answer the call and push past Cole, who barely moves, so I can step out of the room.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Jake. Oh god. Honey, we need you. Dad needs you.”
I glance at my watch. “Mom, I’m at work. It’s half past four.”
“Well, you know how he gets this time of the year. Thanksgiving. Holidays. It’s stressful for me.”
It’s stressful for many people, but we don’t all go fucking day drinking.
Yet my long-serving guilt activates as it always does, and I let out a sigh, rubbing my hand over my face.
“Where is he?”
“He’s down at the bar. Cliff phoned. You know we can’t just leave him there...I’m worried he’ll...drive.”
Of course he won’t because she knows I will go get him.
“How long has he been there?”
It must be a while if Cliff has called. He only does that when Dad has had way too many and causes problems.
Usually multiple times a week.
“Four or five hours.”
Jesus Christ.
“Did he go to therapy on Monday?” I ask, referring to the sessions I’ve been paying for the past few months.
“You know they only upset him.”
Goddamn him.
I can’t talk about this while I’m at work.
Cole walks past me, giving me a dark look, and I run my hand through my hair, walking further into the empty office.
“I can’t leave, Mom. I’m in the middle of work, and this is important. I have a new job and an important case I’m working on”
Silence.
Then a sniff.
Fuck.
That’s all it takes. A vision returns of her crumpling to the floor when I came home in the police car, Dad in the hospital...and she knew before we told her.
And Becca wasn’t with us.
She never would be again.
And it was my fault.
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THERE’S NO WAY I can focus after I end the call, so I tell the team I have a family emergency and head downstairs to my car. Cole is there, tossing his gym bag into the trunk of his own vehicle.
Jesus. I really don’t need a confrontation about this right now.
“Listen—” I begin, rubbing my forehead under my black cap.
“Josh is right.” Cole says, leaning on his car and crossing his arms. He looks like a tough guy with his black shades and tactical pants.
He is.
A trained and decorated Army Ranger, he can look after himself. Given the chance, he could probably kill me.
I won’t give him a chance. I’m bigger all round, but that doesn’t mean anything. He knows I’m trained to fight and defend myself.
My brows lift in question.
“Caylee rang me today and told me to accept that you two were in a relationship.”
I shiver at the time and how, in the near future we will be having a different conversation. I’ll have to let him beat the fuck out of me to pound the guilt I’ll carry.
For now, I want her.
She belongs to me.
A relationship? No. That means integrating into one another’s lives and meeting family. Exactly what Caylee wants to do with this damn party of hers. It can’t and won’t happen. For one single reason; it will expose my family secrets.
Not happening.
I blank my expression and nod. “Yeah, we are.”
“You look thrilled,” Cole uncrosses his arms and pushes away from the car.
He takes two steps towards me, and I shift my weight, preparing to deflect his fist if it comes my way.
“Look, she’s a grown woman, but she’s my sister. Caylee likes you. A lot. She wouldn’t call me if this wasn’t important. But if you aren’t serious about her, just fucking walk away.”
“I’m into it. I...she’s important to me.”
Those words have enormous truth to them.
“Good. Then, make sure you invite your family to this party, as that’s important to her.”
He doesn’t get to tell me what to do or how my relationship with Caylee unfolds. No one does. My anger starts to simmer beneath the surface, and just as I’m about to respond with a go fuck yourself he throws another grenade my way.
“I guess we’ll see you at Thanksgiving.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
“Guess so,” I lower my shades and climb into the car before I do something I might regret.
I wouldn’t regret it.
But it’s clear my dick has been in control of my decision making, and I haven’t thought this through.
Goddammit.