Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Inara
* * *
Rex is worried about me. I know it.
I’ve retreated into myself, into that dark, solitary place where I’ve lived for so long.
He can’t save me. No one can.
He doesn’t know the secrets I’ve kept for my whole life. I long to tell him but can’t get the words out. It’s like I’m swimming in the ocean, getting plowed under the surf, but every time I break to the surface, I’m buried under another wave.
At least there have been no more deaths. Which also means no more clues, either. BK has a pattern of taking breaks between kills. At least according to the notes Lacy sent over. I pour over her murder book, practically memorizing each page.
The two most recent murders have different MOs, one in the BK style and one in the Blackbird style. Is it two serial killers? Or a copycat emulating both?
All I know is that BK is involved somehow, and he’s not finished. There will be more bodies.
I’m holding my breath, waiting for the next horror to break. Meanwhile, for everyone else, life goes on. The papers are still covering Rex’s secret nuptials. Fortunately, they seem to be more fixated on him and his wealthy family than me.
So far, being married to him hasn’t been so bad. I’m under more scrutiny, but I have all the security money can buy. I can’t move around as easily, but I don’t want to, and until BK is behind bars, it would be wise for me to accept those extra layers of protection. I do feel safer.
And since we called a truce, Rex has done everything he can to support me. He gave me a situation room stocked with everything related to the case, a detective’s dream. No criminal department is this well-funded.
We didn’t say vows to each other, but he seems to be with me for better or worse. And right now, it’s worse.
14
Inara
* * *
“I have a surprise for you,” Rex tells me. We’re in a limo, riding to our engagement ball. He’s in a tux, and I’m in the most beautiful gown ever sewn.
“More jewelry?” I’m already wearing a fortune in yellow diamonds. One of the largest and rarest in the world is on display on the necklace around my neck. It’s heavy. Feels like a leash more than anything.
“No. I think you’ll like this surprise.” He holds up a phone. A second later, it lights up, displaying an incoming call from KittyBang.
I grab the phone and answer it. “Mina?”
“Bitch, you got married?”
“Yes.” My laugh is faint, but it is a laugh. It’s so good to hear her voice. “How are you? Are you safe?”
“I’m good. Got your messages. But then he reached out.” The drop in the volume of her voice tells me she means Rex. “Is he there?”
“Yes. But don’t worry. I’m not letting him listen in.” I turn and narrow my eyes at Rex, warning him off. He raises a brow, looking suave in his tux.
“He’s probably recording this call anyway.” Mina doesn’t sound fussed, though. She sounds almost. . . relaxed.
“I won’t let him touch you,” I say.
“You’ve got to tell me what is going on. I go on the run, and next thing I know, you’re marrying the richest man on Earth. And then he’s messaging me and offering me a position in cybersecurity—”
He what? This is news to me.
“And telling me you need my help tracking down a serial killer. He’s already sent me files, and you know I’d do anything for you—”
“Mina,” I interrupt, because when she gets like this, her mind racing like a runaway train, she doesn’t take a breath. “Are you saying you’re working for Rex?”
“I haven’t taken the job. But if you vouch for him—”
“I do. And, yes, I do need your help with. . . everything.”
“Then I’m your kitty. It’s good to hear from you.”
“You too.” I don’t want to stop talking, but the limo has drawn up to the grand building where we’re hosting our ball.
“I’ll be in touch. Strange, but not a stranger.” Before I can say goodbye, she hangs up.
I give the phone back to Rex, noting that it’s a high tech looking model but nondescript. Probably a burner. Mina would approve.
“Did you like your gift?” he purrs, pocketing the burner.
“I did, thank you. I was worried about her. She’s. . .” The closest thing I have to a friend. “Important to me.”
“I figured. You don’t allow many people to get close to you.”
“We’re not close—”
He looks at me, and I squirm under his all-knowing gaze. I feel like I’m in therapy, getting dissected. “All right. She’s. . . a friend.” It’s hard for me to say that word. I’ve taken pains to keep anyone I care about at arm’s length and out of the danger zone. “We’ve never met in person, though.” I felt safer connecting with Mina because she’s also the private, standoffish sort.