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But she’s given so much of herself today. In a perfect world, I would pull John Briggs from his cell and kill him slowly. Her story ignited rage in me, and my inner Alpha howled in despair as she recalled her time spent in that hellhole.
She’s done so much. She’s been vulnerable, and laid her soul out in front of me, Landon, and River.
The least I can do is open up to her.
But it still fucking hurts. There’s a weight in my chest, and it takes me a moment before I can begin speaking.
“A few years ago,” I start, “I was still working at the Bureau with the others. I was mostly working missing persons cases, some worse than others. We saw some dark things—some awful crimes that no one should ever see.”
Skylar flinches and grips her coffee cup.
“We all knew what was expected of this job,” I continue. “It was normal to me by then. Landon and River would occasionally partner with me—and we worked a lot of cases. Our closed case rate was almost perfect. But there was one…” my voice trails off, and I clear my throat.
You sound weak. Keep it together.
But Skylar simply listens, empathy shining in her eyes.
I don’t deserve this strong woman in front of me, who fought back against hell and won.
The least I can do is get through this fucking story.
“There was a fifteen-year-old girl that went missing under bizarre circumstances. And the bastard that took her left clues, like it was a game. Left stupid puzzles for the police to do, and they couldn’t solve them. Finally, they handed the case over to us.”
I chuckle humorlessly.
“It was a crossword,” I growl. “The asshole made a crossword, purposely throwing us off with clues that didn’t have anything to do with her.”
“That’s horrifying,” Skylar whispers.
I meet her shining blue eyes. “It wasn’t the first time we had seen something like that,” I say. “All three of us spent days deciphering his sick games. And by the time we figured it out…”
I clear my throat again and will myself to finish the story.
Skylar deserves to know why I am the way I am.
“I found Lauren first,” I murmur, an image of hair wrapped around fallen leaves filling my mind. “River caught up with me minutes later. We were days too late.”
Skylar gasps.
“And these things happen,” I continue, drumming my fingers on the table. “I know they do. It’s part of my job. Terrible, horrific shit happens, and that’s just the way it is. But this one I couldn’t get out of my head. I saw her everywhere. I couldn’t sleep, and when I did—it would be the same thing over and over again. Me finding her, her body covered in mud and leaves.”
“I’m sorry,” Skylar whispers. “I can’t even imagine.”
I scowl. “But that’s the thing, Skylar. Landon and River were both devastated by it, too. It fucked them both up. But instead of staying at the Bureau, I quit. I left about two weeks after we found her body.”
I run a hand through my hair, wishing we were talking about anything else. “River hates me because I left. I was his mentor; I trained him. And when I told him I was quitting, he gave me a black eye. He said he had looked up to me, but now I was dead to him. He called me a coward, and a failure, and it made me hate him, too.” I clear my throat. “I didn’t train Landon, but I could see the disappointment in his eyes when I told him I was quitting. And then, we hadn’t talked until they reached out to me about helping you.”
Skylar’s scent sours as her lower lip trembles. “Now you know everything,” I murmur.
She shakes her head in disbelief. “Do you still have nightmares?” she asks softly.
“Sometimes,” I admit. “But they’re better when I’m near you, or around your scent.”
She grants me a half smile. “Thank you for telling me,” she says.
I shake my head. “You’re the strongest person I know,” I tell her honestly.
She scoffs and makes a face at me. “What the hell are you talking about?”
