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As I pulled onto the highway, I dialed the number for my lieutenant, Huntley. When the call connected, I skipped the greetings and growled, “It’s done.”
I was met with a few minutes of silence, then Huntley sighed, his relief palpable through the phone. “We owe you, Shadow,” he grunted.
“It was all our asses on the line, Huntley. But especially those of you with family. None of you owe me a fucking thing. This was my decision, and I don’t regret it.”
“Hooyah, sailor,” he said in a low tone.
“Hooyah, Lieutenant,” I echoed. We hung up without another word, and I focused on the road, traveling to LA and my new life.
1
Audrey
After blindly slapping my palm against my cell phone’s screen to hit snooze on my alarm for the third time, I slowly blinked my eyes open. Between my duties as a bridesmaid for my best friend Grace’s second wedding—to the guy she was already married to, which was quite the story—and a test in my western civ class this morning, I hadn’t gotten much sleep over the past week. Not that Grace was a bridezilla or anything. But she had her hands full being a mom to their adorable twins, Kate and Joshua, so I’d been trying to pitch in wherever I could to help lighten her load. But burning the candle at both ends was catching up with me, and I really could’ve used another hour of sleep.
“No such luck,” I grumbled as I switched off the alarm. After rolling off my mattress, I stretched my arms high and groaned in relief at the pop in my lower back. I wanted to grab a shower and wash my hair before heading to the library for some last-minute studying. Since I only had a couple of hours until my class started, I couldn’t ignore my alarm any longer. Luckily, I had my own shower in my dorm room this year and didn’t need to worry about the bathroom being crowded with other girls.
When I finished blow-drying my hair and brushing some powder over my face to cover my freckles about forty minutes later, I felt a little more human. After tossing on a pair of yoga pants, a T-shirt, and a sweatshirt, I slipped a pair of TOMS on my feet and applied my favorite gloss to my lips. Then I wandered over to my single-serve coffee maker and popped a chocolate marshmallow swirl pod into the slot, placed my insulated travel tumbler under the spout, and pressed the button to brew the largest cup possible.
Once my drink was prepared exactly how I liked it, with lots of cream and sugar, I grabbed my backpack and headed for the door, finally ready to tackle my day. No one was in the hallway as I left my room, but I spotted movement to my left after I locked the door. There was only one room past mine in that direction, and my neighbor had been missing for more than two weeks. I was filled with hope that she’d finally returned safe and sound, but my excitement was short-lived when I looked over my shoulder and saw a stranger coming out of Stacey’s room.
The guy definitely didn’t belong in the dorm. I pegged him for about a decade older than me—too young to be a parent and too old to be a student. He also wasn’t the kind of man who would blend into the background. With his dark hair, scruffy beard, aviator sunglasses, tall, muscular body, leather jacket, and animalistic prowl, he was guaranteed to draw the attention of every woman whose path he crossed.
My breath stalled in my lungs when he glanced toward me as he shut Stacey’s door behind him. I couldn’t tell what was going on behind the darkened lenses covering his eyes, but I had the sneaking suspicion he was checking me out as closely as I had done with him. A shiver raced up my spine, and I tried to convince myself that it was because of his dangerous air and not a reaction to the possibility that he was attracted to me.
“Are you a cop? Has enough time passed for you guys to finally put some effort into looking for Stacey?” My gaze drifted down his torso, and I took a step back when I didn’t see a badge clipped at his waist.
He must’ve recognized my fear because he lifted his hands, palms facing me in a placating gesture. “I’m not a cop, but I am checking into what happened to the girl who used to live here.”
“I guess that ‘used to live here’ is the polite way to describe what happened to Stacey,” I scoffed with a shake of my head as I tried to keep a handle on my reaction to his raspy growl. “But it’s not how I’d describe it.”
He pulled his sunglasses off, and I felt as though I was pinned into place by his dark stare. “How would you put it?”
I narrowed my eyes, trying to decide if telling him my suspicions was worth the effort. Nobody else seemed to care that Stacey was missing, and he looked like a guy who could get things done, so I decided to go for it. “I would say that Paul Barrington had something to do with whatever happened to her, and that’s why nobody is willing to do anything about it. Stacey went to the cops about him a month ago because he was harassing her over something. She wouldn’t give me any details because she said I’d be in danger if I knew too much, but I’ve heard enough rumors around campus to hazard an educated guess.”
Most people would’ve been shocked by my accusation, but the only reaction I got from him was a muscle jumping in his jaw. “What do you suspect Barrington did to your neighbor?”
“I think he was pressuring her into either selling drugs or pimping herself. I’ve heard that he goes after vulnerable girls who don't have anyone to speak up for them.” My grip on my travel mug tightened as I thought about how excited Stacey had been when Paul first started paying attention to her. “He pretends to be into them—asking them out on dates, taking them to nice restaurants, sending flowers. Whatever it takes until he’s got the girl convinced that he only wants the best for them, and that’s when he goes in for the kill.”
The guy took a step toward me, and I backed up again. Although I was spilling my guts to him, he was still a stranger, and I was acutely aware of my vulnerability after Stacey’s disappearance. He held completely still as my doorknob pushed against the middle of my back. “You seem certain that Barrington is responsible for the girl’s disappearing act.”
“It’s not an act,” I hissed. “Getting her degree was too important to Stacey for her to risk messing up her grades. She’s here on scholarship, and the school will pull her funding if her average falls below a three point four. Before she met Paul, Stacey hadn’t missed a single class in three semesters. She even went when she was sick. There’s no way she wouldn’t have let her professors know if she was going to be gone, and I know she didn’t reach out to any of them because I asked.”
Dimples appeared in his cheeks when he frowned, making him even more attractive. “And you already went to the cops with your suspicions?”
“Yup.” I let the P at the end pop, and his eyes darkened when his gaze dropped to my lips. I barely resisted the urge to wet them with my tongue before I added, “And the police didn’t want to hear any of it since Stacey is an adult. Pretty much all they did was pull up her record. They told me she had a history of running away from foster homes when she was younger so she probably did the same now. Without any proof that something actually happened to her, they filed a missing person’s report and promptly put it at the bottom of the pile. I don’t think they even bothered to check the nearest hospitals since I’d already called around.”
“Hmm.”
I was about to ask him what the noncommittal sound meant when one of the alarms I’d set on my phone went off, alerting me that I needed to be in my class in an hour. I’d set up a few of them in case I overslept or got so wrapped up in my studying that I lost track of time and ended up missing my exam. Pulling my phone out of the pocket on the side of my yoga pants, I muttered, “Crap.”
The mystery man straightened and seemed more alert when he asked, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, but I need to get going or else I’m the one who’s going to need to worry about failing. One of my professors apparently has something against vacations because she scheduled a big exam for this morning when our brains are already looking ahead to break next week,” I explained as I shoved my cell phone back into my pocket.
“Good luck,” he murmured, turning away from me. As he slipped through the door that led to the stairs—and I watched his butt the entire way—I made a mental note to tell Grace’s dad about the mystery man. Jonah had become a billionaire by owning the best security company in the world. So I went to him for help when it had become clear the cops weren’t going to do anything about Stacey’s situation.
2
