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Dexter
Iam so angry I can’t think straight. I think I was up most of the night reading the copies I made of Holly’s journal. A book of damnation—hers because reading this proves to me I was right not to trust anyone and never let them close. This woman has scripted the pages of her downfall because she knows everything.
My dirty secrets are laid bare before my eyes and it’s not for comfortable reading. Not just me either. Personal details on all the five kings have been listed in a journal of devastation and I breathe a sigh of relief that I caught this in time before they made it out into the public domain.
Then again, they already are if Holly has access to them because whoever fed her this shit knew exactly what they were doing.
The conversation I shared with Ryder last night left me in no doubt what was at stake. As soon as her belongings reached me, courtesy of my men raiding her apartment, I sat down to sift through her life. I know it was wrong, but there is no right in this when you are struggling to survive the most destructive storm.
Ryder is now actively looking for her stepbrother and I almost pity him, but when you play with explosives, expect to be caught out one day and Colton Jeffrey is about to discover the consequences of interfering in something he should have left well alone.
Then there’s his sister. Currently my guest locked in the room I had made ready for her. A softer approach was needed because it was obvious she was never going to give me what I wanted under pressure. Part of me admires her for that and part of me is disappointed she caved in out of greed. I dangled a gold-plated carrot before her and she reached out and swallowed it whole. She belongs to me now because she sold her soul to me in that one act of greed and now she’s going to regret every word she wrote in that journal by the time I’ve finished with her.
A knock on the door interrupts my maniacal thoughts and Sam enters looking like hell, which makes me smile.
“Bad night.”
“I wasn’t aware the day had ended.”
He groans as he runs his hand through his hair and looks as if he could do with an intravenous drip of coffee to get him through the day.
“We went through the apartment, her paperwork, her computer files, anything we could think of and there is no record of her stepbrother anywhere.”
Sam sighs and slumps into the seat opposite my desk. “So, he’s a ghost.”
“Apparently so. Any trace of him has been wiped from existence, which makes me think we’re dealing with a professional.”
“He doesn’t want to be found. I can understand why.”
“Did you find anything in her journal?”
“Nothing I want repeated.”
“It’s that bad then.”
“Worse.” Sighing, I lean back and for a moment we stare at each other under the realization for once in our lives we are not in control of a situation.
I can only hope that Ryder has a better system than ours and finds the bastard because until we do, we’re fucked.
“What about Miss. Bryant? Do you think she knows?”
Thinking about the woman who has written her way into a shit load of trouble, I feel strangely excited to watch her unravel.
“I think she’s being used. Probably knows nothing but what he’s fed her. I’m guessing she knows shit about his whereabouts, but she could be our only hope of discovering where that is.”
“What’s your plan?”
“Extract the information until we find what we’re looking for. She’s currently my newest employee and eager to succeed. I’m guessing I can manipulate that to my advantage and use her to trap her stepbrother into making a mistake.”
“She’s all you’ve got then, because there’s shit in her apartment. The woman’s a machine. No friends, no social life, just a desire to succeed. Even her co-workers know shit about her because she kept herself apart from them and didn’t get involved in the usual office politics.”
“Impressive, she’s driven, I like that.”
Sam nods. “Yes, she sounds a lot like you. Why wouldn’t you?”
He yawns loudly and I sigh. “Get some sleep, Sam, you’ve earned it. Leave Miss. Bryant to me. I’ll see what I can screw from her.”
Sam shakes his head and almost staggers to his feet. “I’m not going to argue with you. The only thing I’m interested in right now is my bed.”
