Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
And it was taking a monster off the streets, protecting any of his future potential victims.
“Yeah,” I agreed, exhaling hard.
The rest of the night moved in a bit of a familiar blur.
The updates from the medical team, meeting with the captain, the attorney general, and the forensics team when they got back.
Meanwhile, the one thing I wanted, was the one thing I couldn’t have. Access to Mari.
It wasn’t until the earliest hours of the morning that I saw Gawen leading an exhausted and bruised Mari out of the interrogation room.
“Wells!” Gawen called, waving me over. “Any chance you could drive Miss Yates to her friend’s house?” he asked, voice loud enough that he wanted others to overhear. “She doesn’t want to go home with the news zoo that is sure to be there again.”
“Yes, of course,” I said, giving Mari a small smile. “Whenever you are ready,” I added.
“I’m ready,” she said, voice small.
She seemed smaller. Like she was shrinking into herself.
Gawen gave me a meaningful nod, a silent assurance that things had gone well. I gave him one back, a thank you for what he’d done for me, for us.
Then I led Mari out of the building, keeping my hands curled into fists, so I didn’t touch her.
It wasn’t until we were in the car, and I had driven down the block, and pulled into the lot of an unopened convenience store, that I reached for her, pulling her close over the top of the center console.
“You okay?” I asked, squeezing her tight.
“No,” she admitted. “But I will be,” she assured me. Then, “Take me home, Wells.”
And I knew she didn’t mean hers.
She wanted to be at my home.
With our dogs.
With me.
And that sounded like friggin heaven to me.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Mari
The interrogation had been so different than I’d been expecting.
First, I’d been anticipating having Wells do it.
Though, I understood why it was better for it to be someone else. In case anything ever came out about the relationship between myself and Wells.
As such, I felt a bit like a criminal myself as I was walked into an interrogation room, staring at myself in the two-way mirror, my focus going in and out, until, finally, Gawen moved into the room.
He was a nice guy.
There was something calming about him.
But, still, I wanted Wells.
I recalled the facts, and it was clear in the way Gawen was looking at me and guiding the questions that he was protecting Wells by making sure I didn’t say anything about things that were going on with us.
Luckily, there wasn’t much to say.
I was heading home after work. I mistook my attacker for the delivery order. Then I was taken.
No one needed to know where I’d been before work.
As for why Wells knew I was missing, well, that was his story to come up with.
After what felt like hours later, Gawen was leading me out of the room—tired, cold, starving. But more than anything, just aching to be alone with Wells.
The ride back to his house felt endless, even though I knew it was less than ten minutes. The sun was starting to beat down, making a headache scream in my temples as we pulled into the driveway.
“Tilly and Boss,” I said, voice pained.
“Yeah,” he agreed, and we rushed up the front path together. “They’ll be okay. It was an emergency,” he added, unlocking the door.
They were waiting just inside the door, and as soon as they saw us, made a mad dash toward the back doors, practically crossing their legs with the need to go out.
Wells moved ahead, taking charge, letting them out, then going back into the kitchen to make them breakfast.
I smelled coffee brewing, and walked numbly into the room to find him putting down the dog bowls.
I walked right to him as soon as he straightened.
His arms went around me automatically, but they were loose around me, holding me like I was glass just ready to shatter.
It wasn’t until my arms tightened hard around him that he pulled me against him.
His lips pressed down on my head as I listened to his heartbeat, finding comfort in the sound.
“How are you?” he asked. “Really,” he added.
“I’m a little numb,” I admitted. “I don’t think it’s going to come back to me after I sleep,” I added.
Even in interrogation, forced to have the memories flash across my mind, I’d felt oddly detached from it.
“I’ve seen a lot of people shut down after a traumatic event,” he said, his hands stroking up and down my spine. “It will come up,” he added. “And I’ll be here for you when it does.”
I think I could have stood there forever, but almost that exact moment, Matilda jumped up on the back door, her version of “knocking” to be let in.
Our arms untangled, and Wells let them in.
“How about you take a bath?” he suggested. “I’ll bring you a coffee and order breakfast. Then you can get some sleep.”