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Between working legitimate CIA business during the day and hunting down traffickers at night, I fed the beast until it consumed me. It was like the damn plant fromThe Little Shop of Horrors.
Yet I kept feeding it. Eagerly and without guilt.
I convinced myself the white hat I wore could remain untarnished and smudge-free since I was doing it for the right reasons. With that hat on, I never felt guilty for anything I did in the name of gathering intel.
Never. Not once.
Until Cal.
For the last several weeks, I’ve been beating myself up over him. Not that my hat was exactly white when I dug into his background along with the rest of Redleg. It was gray.
But right now? The uneasiness coursing through my veins isn’t because of him and my gray hat hacking.
Instead, my current anguish is because no matter how hard I fight, I’ll never stop these crimes. No one will ever be able to eradicate this horror from the world or even the country. Hell, we can’t stop it in our small towns.
We’re fighting a losing battle with the deck stacked against us, forever chasing our tails.
Ican’tsave all these girls.
But maybe I can save Violet.
Cal shakes off my hand, stands abruptly, and begins pacing. “Turn off the music, Mia. We can’t disrespect the Rat Pack with this disgusting topic.”
After I turn off the music, I attempt to calm him. “Cal, we’ll find them. We’re so close.”
His eyes widen, and his lip shifts into a soft pout. He’s an adorable puppy dog. “But you don’t have them yet?”
I shake my head, finally admitting to needing more time. “That’s the thing. None of the pictures I found gave me a clear enough shot to run through the internet facial recognition that I can do here. Not with any degree of clarity. Even when I enhanced the lighting, it was still a less-than-ideal scenario and hard to match. It came back with over three thousand potential hits on the first guy, eight thousand on the next.”
He rejoins me on the couch. His proximity immediately erases some of my morose thoughts.
“Then how do you have three suspects?”
“Let’s call it outside the box thinking,” I hedge, shoulders raised and chin lowered to shield my neck.
“Don’t try to look innocent, Mia. I know you’re not even close to being a good girl.”
Easy, lady bits. That was not a challenge to show him just how good of a girl you can be.
“Well, if I’m a bad girl, at least I’m good at it.”
He sucks in a deep inhale, then mutters, “Oh, I know you are. Unfortunately.”
I can’t resist what happens next any more than a cat can resist a freshly opened cardboard box.
“So you don’t need a reminder?”
Looking away, he sucks both his lips into his mouth.
For two whole seconds, I bite my tongue.
You’re impressed by my restraint, aren’t you? Same here.
When I free my tongue, I shoot my shot. “I’d be happy to remind you how good I am at being bad.” Like it has a mind of its own, my hand glides over his quad.
“Mia,” he rasps. “Not now.” With that terse decree, he swats my hand away.
A whimper of disappointment threatens to escape my lips, but I choke it down. “Later, then?”
