“I’m a cop,” I tell her, clearing my throat when her eyes shoot to mine. “Was. Former cop. Why don’t you tell me what happened, and I’ll make that call for you.”
Hope lights her face in a way that sends my heart drumming. Fuck!
“You’ll do that? You promise?”
“Yes,” I say with a nod. “Why don’t you sit and let me check you for injuries as you tell me what happened and who that man was?”
“Okay.”
All suspicion seems to disappear now that she knows I was a cop, someone with connections on the force. She sits down when I direct her to the couch and doesn’t react when I crouch in front of her to inspect the tear on her jeans, which luckily didn’t break the skin. I take her hands when I notice the scratching on her palms and wrists. They’re scraped pretty badly, raw and red, with little flecks of dirt and grit embedded in the skin. It should hurt, but she seems to be in too much shock to feel the burn.
“I’ll grab the first aid kit.”
She sits patiently as I grab the kit and a bottle of water from the kitchen, thanking me when I pass it to her. “That man kidnapped my best friend.”
I kneel down beside her as I open the kit. “What happened?” I ask, taking out some sterile wipes and hoping to distract her from the pain of her injuries. “Tell me everything.”
“Kristin. That’s my roommate and best friend,” she starts, flinching when I begin to clean the abrasions. “She and I work together as waitresses at a diner in town. So yesterday, we were working the morning shift when this guy showed up claiming to be a photographer who works with models. He tells us how he was walking by when he spotted two beautiful women through the window and he saw something special in us.” Her voice turns bitter, and I hear a hint of anger in it. “It was all a load of bullshit, but when I turned to Kristin, she had this look in her eyes. Like she believed him, and it made me swallow what I wanted to say. She’s always wanted to be a model.”
Her tears fall, silently now, and she barely notices when Ares nudges his head against her knee. “Kristin was excited and couldn’t stop asking questions, and when the man gave us his card, I saw her eyes light up. This is her dream.”
“She went to him?”
“He tricked her!” she says fiercely, firing those stunning blue eyes at me that carry resentment even with the tears. “I wanted to stop her, but it was her dream. Besides, it was only going to be a photoshoot. A couple of hours taking professional pictures, and then she’d be famous like she’s always wanted to be.”
“When did she go out to meet him?” I ask, reaching for the bandages.
“Yesterday afternoon,” she says, her eyes dropping to watch me apply the bandage. “She burst into my room while I was getting ready for my shift and tried to get me to go with her.I told her I had to work and couldn’t just leave. I figured she’d be back before I got home and...Oh God, I can’t believe I let her go alone!”
“Hey—”
“I’m such a terrible friend,” she sobs, turning her face to her shoulder. “I should have stopped her. I should...maybe if I’d gone with her, then this would never have happened. When I got home, she wasn’t there. She’d made me food before she left and...”
“Did you call her?”
“Not immediately,” she admits sorrowfully. “I figured the shoot was running late, so I sent her a text asking her to call me when she was done. But she never answered. I waited all night for her to come home, and when I called, I was sent straight to voicemail. By this morning, I knew something was wrong.”
“How did you find the man?”
“Kristin and I share our locations with each other on a tracking app for safety, so I could see the last location where Kristin was before her phone was turned off. I decided to go check it out. I was almost relieved when I saw her car outside the house. Until that man...he told me he kidnapped my friend, and he tried to lock me in his place, but I pepper sprayed him and ran out. I hit him with my bag and dropped it while I was trying to get away. My phone, wallet, and ID were all inside.”
“You did well,” I tell her, squeezing her knee.
“I didn’t save Kristin,” she whispers. “I didn’t stop that man from taking my friend.”
“This is not your fault, and it’s not your friend’s either. She just trusted the wrong guy,” I assure her, keeping my eyes firmly on hers so she can read the truth in them. “Tell me everything you know about the man’s house, and then I’ll make that call.”
She gives me as much detail as she can remember and a clear description of the man. I leave her in the company of thedogs as I step outside to make the call to a friend still on the police force. I watch her through the screen door as the call connects, skipping the chatter and detailing everything Rosalie told me. He tells me he’ll look into it himself, then warns me not to let her leave, he’s coming out to take Rosalie’s statement in person.
Of course she can’t go home, that man has her wallet, including her ID. She can’t go home and she’s in no state to be alone.
It’s going to be a long night.
I don’t immediately go back inside when the call ends. Instead, I stand outside and watch through the screen door as Athena climbs onto the couch and lays her head on Rosalie’s lap. The other three dogs settle by her feet, comforting her in ways I never trained them to do. I shove my hands into my pockets and watch the scene play out, wondering why the hell it paints such a perfect picture.
And then those stunning eyes glance up, locking with mine through the door. The force of her gaze slams into me with such intensity that it’s a wonder I don’t stagger back. There is a vulnerability about her, a raw, exposed fear that makes me want to shield her, to wrap her in something warm and safe.
To keep her with me.