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“Maybe we should reach out to our contacts at the FBI? Get their take on the investigators in charge of the case,” Punk suggests.
Chase scoffs. “Reach out to the FBI I just hacked, inquiring on a random cold case? How will that not blow back on us?”
“Let’s avoid going through the authorities and go straight to the mother,” Atlas suggests. “We explain we’re a private investigative company that specializes in missing children. I mean, it is what we do.”
It’s a good idea. “That might work.”
“NO!”
The four of us whip our heads in the direction of the voice. Opal stands in the garage doorway, her eyes wide with horror. “You cannot contact Shelly. You cannot contact anyone, especially the FBI.”
My eyes narrow, assessing her.
Opal is too guarded and withholds too much information to make finding her easy. Her stalker is using means which would only be available to him if he had an informant involved with the authorities or he’s working for the authorities, explaining how he’s been able to track her over the years.
To think Opal’s abuser could be a goddamn cop… No deviant should be in a position of power.
“Opal.” I raise my hands, trying to douse the fire about to flare up in Opal. “We’re trying to help—” I don’t get to finish my sentence.
“I said,NO.” Her tone teeters toward violent.
This is a side I haven’t seen of Opal. She’s always bubbly and kind—never confrontational or angry. This isn’t Opal talking. It’s her fear.
I take a cautious step forward, my hands still raised to show her I mean no harm. “Sweetheart, I want to bring the man who hurt you to justice.”
Opal chuckles mockingly. “Bring him to justice? Are you insane? No justice department in the country can help. You would make me face my abuser only to have him walk away scot-free knowing my new identity and current location? You reach out to any of them, and they’ll notifyhim.”
My feet bring me right in front of her. I gently take her by the shoulders. “He won’t ever get to you. Tell me who he is, Opal. Tell me, and I’ll make him pay.”
She shakes her head hastily. Her body vibrates with tremors under my grasp.
“What’s his name?”
She pulls free of my hands, her face wet with a torrent of tears. “I can’t tell you. He’ll find and hurt me. He’ll make me pay for running away from him by hurting you.” She breaks out into a harsh sob, turning away from me.
Without thinking, I grab her, yanking her back flush with my chest. Opal screams, beating at my arms locked around her body. I’m too late to realize my mistake. She told me to never hold her from behind, to never spoon her.
I let her go. Opal falls forward to her hands and knees, sobbing.
Chase remains seated, focusing on his computer like he realizes this is a private conversation. Punk stands next to him, shocked. But Atlas rushes forward, wanting to help. I hold my hand up to halt him. She’s overwhelmed enough already. Adding more men to the scenario will not calm her.
Saddled with guilt, I kneel beside her, rubbing her back. “Opal, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to restrain you. It was an accident. You know I would never hurt you.”
Opal’s cries continue long after her tremors have ended. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her head to lie against my chest. “Shush. You’re alright. I’ve got you.”
“You can’t contact them. You can’t,” she rasps weakly.
I’d say just about anything to relax her, but I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep.
Opal must sense my reluctance. She pulls back to look at me, gripping my leather cut in her small fists. Her pale eyes are wide, pleading. “You can’t, Gauge. Not any of you.”
“He won’t hurt you again. I’ll kill him before he comes anywhere near you.”
“No, Gauge,” she says, her eyes growing more beseeching by the second. “He’ll killyouif he ever discovers who you are and what you mean to me.”
The fuck.
Opal doesn’t understand the amount of legal pull our crew has. She doesn’t know the connections we have or the favors we can call in. She doesn’t know about our lethal skill in combat or the training we have in hunting targets. Nor does she understand I would go above the law for her.
