Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Justin Storm has no idea who he’s dealing with. But he will. Soon enough, they all will.
I lift the dossier Jess had left, skimming through it, but my mind stubbornly drifts back to the captivating detective. Seeing her in the flesh is far more enticing than the glimpses on the nightly news. She’s slender yet robust, a woman who cultivates strength, ready to defend herself with or without her firearm. She’s stunning, but in a city like L.A., attractive faces are a dime a dozen, and Francesca is more than just another pretty face.
She’s smart. Shrewd. An exceptional detective.
And I’m ready to bring her down.
My mind floods with visions of pinning her beneath me, driving into her hard and deep as she cries out for more, scratching and clawing at my back, driven wild by my touch.
When she comes all over me, will her eyes be a deep, rich brown or a light amber hue? The fear that flashes in her eyes when I wrap my hand around her throat makes my cock twitch.
Will I end her life then and there, or will I give her the best orgasm of her life?
Maybe both.
Maybe not.
Francesca has no idea what’s in store for her, but I can hardly contain myself. It’s time to kick it up a notch. My need to have her, to own her, to destroy her is bubbling to the surface, and there’s only one way to simmer it.
Get closer.
A quick knock sounds on the door before Jess enters, a smile playing on her lips. “Storm is here, so consider this your five-minute warning.”
“Thank you, Jess.” The games never cease, but while I enjoy the daylight games, it’s the ones at night that fuel my vengeance.
CHAPTER FOUR
Frankie
“If I don’t get some coffee soon, I’m going to collapse right here in the park.” I’m so worn out I can barely keep my eyes open. We’ve spent the entire morning searching St. Jude’s Park for the appendage that the twisted bastard cut off Ryder Beaumont and found nothing. Not a single clue.
“Lucky for you, I know the perfect place.” Jay gestures for me to follow him, and I do without question because as long as I get coffee, I can handle anything. “Beans & Things is just up the street.”
The name of my favorite coffee spot brings a smile to my face. “You don’t even need to ask.” The tan and brown awning is just a few blocks away, and since I can’t stop thinking about this case and the killer, we pause half a dozen times on the way. “You think we’ll find the dick?”
Jay’s expression tells me everything, but his words make it clear. “Nope. He chopped it off for a reason. Maybe he’s keeping them in jars, or maybe he’s eating them, but he’s definitely not tossing them in the trash, that’s for fucking sure.”
I nod. “We’re missing something. I can feel it.” It seems like it’s right there, but still completely out of reach. Maybe it’s lack of sleep and therefore lack of focus, or maybe this guy is just that good.
Jay loosens his tie and picks up the pace. “We don’t have enough information yet to know much of anything, Frankie. I know you want this guy caught, but without linking the victims and without forensic evidence, we can’t do much.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.” I’m not good at waiting. As if to prove my point that I’m terrible at patience when it comes to shit like this, a red light at the corner stops our forward progress. I push the button, hoping to speed up the change to the green light. Jay gives me the side eye and I smirk.
“What?” I say like I don’t know what he means.
I like to forge ahead, cutting through red tape and bullshit to get to the answers, to get the perp. To get justice for the victims. But Jay has heard my story about my LAPD ID badge opening every door in the city, but it can’t get me across a red light to save my soul. Well, unless I’m chasing a perp and then, all bets are off.
Jay laughs. “You’ve never been all that great at the waiting aspect of law enforcement. Your father was the same way.”
As always, the mention of my father stops me in my tracks. He’s been gone for more years now than I had with him, and when Jay brings him up, it always catches me off guard. In some ways, it feels like I hardly think about him, which is strange because if not for him, I wouldn’t be where I am today. “So, you’re saying my impatience is a genetic trait?”
“I’m saying don’t let the lack of progress get you down. The worst part of working a serial case is that the only way to get a better picture of the perp is more evidence.”