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Callan allowed a slow, satisfied smile to cross his face. “I need to know you’re somewhere secure while I take care of things outside. Let me keep you safe, my Rose.”
Roseline drew in a shuddering breath at the name that escaped his lips, nodding wordlessly. The dazed longing in her eyes sent a spike of heat through Callan’s veins. But now wasn’t the time to explore these simmering desires. Not with work to do and a depraved killer on the loose.
Taking both her delicate hands in his, Callan pressed a fervent kiss to her knuckles. “I’ll check in with you as soon as I have any updates on the potential targets,” he promised. With a final squeeze of her hands, he turned and strode out the door before his resolve faltered.
As Callan navigated the bustling station, angling toward the parking lot, his mind kept replaying those breathtaking moments holding Roseline in his arms. Kissing her had been like quenching a fierce thirst he hadn’t even realized plagued him. The silken softness of her lips against his, the floral scent of her hair, the tempting warmth of her slender body molding to his broader frame… it had felt so right, beyond just satisfying physical desire. More like two parts of a whole coming together again.
Shaking his head, Callan forced himself to push aside those distracting thoughts. This wasn’t the moment to indulge in reckless, romantic fantasies, not with the Game Master still at large. He had to stay mentally sharp on the case if he was going to prevent more loss of life. Anything more with Roseline would just have to wait.
Callan pulled out his cellphone as he jogged down the station steps toward his unmarked cruiser, deftly selecting his friend’s name from his favorites list. Brandon picked up on the second ring.
“Turner here. What’s up, Hemlock?” came his friend’s familiar rough baritone.
“We might have a solid lead on who the Game Master’s next targets are, but I need backup checking on them ASAP,” Callan said without preamble. “Can you meet me at Rousseau’s in twenty?”
“Sure thing, be there in fifteen,” Brandon confirmed. “See you soon.”
Callan ended the call and slid behind the wheel, peeling out of the parking lot with lights flashing. As he wove expertly through the chaotic NOLA traffic, his thoughts turned from Roseline’s searing kiss back to the monsters he hunted.
Time to venture once more into the city’s fetid underbelly.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Roseline sank into the plush cushions of her sofa, letting the weight of exhaustion overcome her as dawn’s pale light filtered through the apartment windows. She recalled the beginning of this demanding case when she had first stumbled upon that disturbing live stream showcasing the Game Master’s murder of Vincent Garofalo. At the time, she never could have imagined the darkness that discovery would unveil or the emotional and physical toll this mission would take on both her and those around her.
Yet here she was, many sleepless nights later, no closer to stopping the merciless actions of the sadistic killer who seemed to constantly elude her. Roseline glanced at the clock on her wall, realizing she had been awake for over twenty-four hours straight, analyzing data and financial records related to the case.
She knew she needed to try to get some rest, but whenever she closed her eyes, horrific images from the Game Master’s staged executions flashed behind her eyelids, and Callan was out there pursuing the case. Every graphic detail from the live streams featuring Garofalo, DeLuca, and now Moretti replayed in her head, their blood forever staining her dreams. This case haunted Roseline in a way none other ever had.
Letting out a deep sigh, Roseline reached for her phone on the coffee table, yearning for an update that Callan and Brandon were safe after venturing into the city’s dangerous underbelly earlier that evening. The cursory text Callan had sent right before going off the grid to try to prevent further loss of life offered little reassurance or comfort. Dealing with the mob was an unpredictable danger, no matter how careful they were. Until she saw Callan again in the flesh, worry and dread gnawed ceaselessly at her core.
As an analyst, Roseline was used to solving complex puzzles by sifting through data and giving order to chaos. But this case left her perpetually on edge, never knowing when the Game Master would strike again with another sadistic live stream sent out to his depraved followers. She constantly felt one step behind, trying to trace his digital footsteps before he took another innocent life.
Knowing Callan had gone out into the dark of night to canvas the city’s seedy criminal underworld had sent Roseline’s mind spinning with potentially disastrous scenarios. The thought of Callan getting hurt while she waited helplessly made her sick.
She imagined his good-looking face, remembering the reassurance of his powerful embrace after they had witnessed the gruesome murder of Rafael Moretti earlier that night. Moretti’s death felt like another personal failure, knowing their interrogation had led the Game Master straight to him. Roseline squeezed her eyes shut; fresh images of Moretti’s torture and execution flashed before her again. She needed to try to quiet her mind and get some rest before delving back into this nightmare.
Pulling a blanket around herself, Roseline stretched her weary body out along the length of her sofa, hoping sleep would take the edge off her frayed mental state. But the second she closed her eyes, visions of blood and gore jolted her awake as her pulse began to race. No matter how hard she tried to relax, her thoughts kept spiraling back to the Game Master and the toll this entire case had taken. She felt like she was being slowly choked by the weight of responsibility on her shoulders, and the cost if she didn’t uncover the identity and digital trail of this sadistic monster.
More and more self-doubt crept into Roseline’s mind until she questioned her skills and whether she was equipped for this level of darkness. She had always been confident in her abilities, known as one of NOPD’s most brilliant analysts. Her knack for finding order and clues in the chaos by decrypting complex puzzles had served her well over the years. But this merciless killer always seemed to elude her no matter what digital breadcrumbs she followed. If only she had found his trail sooner. The weight of that guilt and responsibility sat heavy in her chest, making it hard to breathe.
Throwing off her blanket in frustration, Roseline sat back up and grabbed her laptop off the coffee table. If sleep continued to evade her, she figured she might as well be productive. She decided to log in remotely to the encrypted case files, hoping a fresh look might reveal some detail she had previously overlooked. As she stared at the sprawl of data points, transaction records, IP addresses, and surveillance footage, Roseline only felt her frustration mounting. Without Callan there to bounce ideas off, she found herself just aimlessly chasing her own mental tail, no closer to a breakthrough.
After an hour of fruitless searching, Roseline pushed her laptop aside, closing the lid harder than she intended. She glanced at her muted phone again, willing it to light up with a word from Callan. But the screen remained dark. Needing a confidant to ease her churning thoughts, Roseline called Hayden, longing for the solace of her friend’s compassion.
Bleary-eyed but instantly alert, Hayden answered after just two rings, seemingly attuned to Roseline’s high distress levels from just over the state line. Hayden’s familiar face set Roseline somewhat more at ease.
In the safety of her trusted friend’s attention, the story came spilling out—her exhaustion and self-doubt after too many sleepless nights, her worries for Callan’s safety as he canvassed the city’s underbelly and her crises of confidence in her own abilities. Hayden listened without interruption, her furrowed brow and comforting murmurs urging Roseline to let the emotions continue flowing cathartically.
“I just feel so in over my head, Hayden,” Roseline confessed, her voice strained. “No matter how deep I dig into the data, this Game Master always manages to stay five steps ahead. It’s like trying to grasp smoke. I’ve never come up against an adversary I couldn’t outmaneuver digitally before, but this one is different.”
Roseline’s eyes blurred with tears of frustration as she continued. “Not to mention, I can’t get those horrific execution scenes out of my head. I close my eyes and just see blood and gore, those poor victims’ faces etched permanently into my brain.” She paused, looking down as she struggled to keep her emotions in check.
When Roseline met Hayden’s gaze again, her friend’s expression radiated compassion. “I’m worried this case has broken me,” Roseline whispered. “What if I’m just not cut out for this level of criminality?”
Hayden leaned toward the camera, her hazel eyes flashing with conviction. “Now you listen here, Roseline Fontenot,” she said. “Don’t you dare start doubting yourself or your capabilities. This case is challenging; they all can’t be easy wins. I’ve never seen you shy away from a challenge before.”
Roseline frowned and opened her mouth to argue.
