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Campbell Hill.
I’ve seen this name before. Many times. Part of my mission was to find certain missing people and his name is on there, I remember it. I’ve studied the potential victims list, religiously trying to come up with any kind of connection, but I always drew a blank.
He owns an accounting business in Cincinnati and is currently missing with no money in his bank account. What the fuck?
His list of crimes committed consists of multiple rapes and murder.
I toss his file down with Jennifer’s and grab another.
Cody Jackson. Engineer. Molested daughter. Missing.
Lexi Benning. Surgeon. Murderer of patients. Missing.
I pull them out one by one, recognizing the names and faces as the victims of kidnappings.
There’s evidence in these files of their crimes, but they aren’t official court documents or anything. It’s more like Ace, Blais, and Theon have done extensive research on every single one of them to find their darkest secrets.
What the hell is going on?
My stomach drops, my chest heaves, and I drop the file in my hand.
No.
This can’t be right. This has to be a coincidence.
No, no, no.
I try to argue with myself, but deep down, I know—they’re the ones I’ve been looking for the entire time.
I knew they were crazy and criminals, but I didn’t know it was at this level. Am I that naive? They were under my nose the whole time, hiding in plain sight. Jesus, they’ve killed a man right in front of me and I wasn’t even smart enough to put it together. How fucking stupid can I be?
There’s probably fifty files in this cabinet. What if this isn’t all of their victims?
My stomach churns at the thought of Ace, Theon, and Blais keeping this from me. I mean it’s not like we’re best friends, but if they were planning on killing me, it’s not like their secret would get out. Why does that bother me more than the thought of them killing people? Probably because the people in these files are the scum of the Earth.
Am I really trying to justify their killing? God, I’m so screwed in the head from how deep these guys have me under their thumbs.
How can I hate people who do vile things like rape, murder, gun running, and assault, but I can’t find it in myself to fully hate these three assholes who are the biggest criminals I’ve ever encountered? These jackasses who I’ve seen kill without hesitation. Who have tortured me and used my fears against me. How do I know they won’t do it again to me? How do I really know I’m safe here?
They’ve shown how possessive they are of me, they’ve all acted like I’m theirs. Hell, they’ve even opened up to me, baring their souls. There’s no way they don’t feel what I feel for them, right?
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Why am I so messed up over this?
My entire body is screaming at me to run, fucking hide, find something to kill them with or at least get to a phone to call backup, but my heart is begging me to hear them out. To understand their story, to see their reaction when they explain they are the people I’m looking for.
Clearly my promise to serve and protect only goes so far. Put me in a room with three hot-ass psychos and I lose all sense of morality.
Because you’re just like them.
Gathering the files, I shove them back into the cabinet, rushing out and returning back to my room. This is crazy, I should be trying to get out of here, but I need answers.
I need to know why.
I need them to look me in the eyes and tell me the truth.
My mind is made up. I’ll do what I have to to get the answers I need even if it gets me killed in the end.
