“They’ll call us the second they get the results. Do you want to go back to the hotel in the meantime, or hang around here and wait?”
He glances around as if only just realizing where he is, and says, “Not staying here, but I don’t want to sit in the hotel playing the waiting game either. Is there any way I can see the footage of her before we leave though?”
I nod and lead him into one of the rooms, gesturing for him to sit.
Then I press PLAY and let him see my cousin and her kidnapper.
EIGHT
Ranger
WHILE we’re waiting on the DNA results, we head to a café just down the road from the police station. There’s no point going anywhere too far because we’ll just have to rush back, and we both need to eat something. I skipped dinner last night, I wasn’t feeling hungry, but I saw that Jo had ordered room service, by the tray left outside her door in the morning, so at least she ate. While she was doing her own thing this morning, I went out and tried talking to some locals. They either know nothing or are too scared to talk, but either way, there was no information to be found. When Sin texted me last night with a number, I have to admit I was surprised. I had no idea the WDMC had a chapter out here, but he told me I can go to them for anything, and I feel relieved that I have men at my back should I need them. I’m hoping that we can find this asshole’s fingerprints or DNA from the car, then we can track him down and deal with him. He is the lead to finding Elizabeth. I don’t care what I have to do, I’ll do it. I’ll torture him to find out her whereabouts if I have to. Seeing her on that video . . . it was hard to watch. My mind is now running wild with all the shit that could have been done to her, and it’s making me want to kill someone.
A waitress approaches, smiling warmly at both of us. “What can I get you both today?”
“I’ll have a coffee, please,” Jo says, scanning the menu. “And a ham-and-cheese croissant.”
“Excellent,” the waitress says, making a note. “And for you, sir?”
“I’ll have a coffee too, and the bacon and scrambled eggs. Thanks.”
She writes that down, then tells us that the food won’t be long. I glance across the table at Jo, whose eyes are already pinned on me. Today she’s in tight jeans and a white T-shirt, and her hair looks like she’s run her fingers through it several times, almost like she’s just been fucked. Even with no makeup on, she’s stunning. A natural beauty—something very rare in today’s day and age.
“So you’re her cousin,” I say, leaning back in the booth. Elizabeth never mentioned much about her family, just her sister, so I have no idea how many cousins she has, or if she’s close with them, so I decide to ask. “Are the two of you close?”
Jo nods, sadness flashing in her blue eyes. “Yeah, we’re close. We went to different schools and everything, but family is important to us. We always kept in contact, and saw each other whenever we could. She used to live a few hours away, in a small town, but I saw her the weekend before she went missing, actually. She’d just moved, five minutes away from my house. I helped her move all of her furniture in.”
So that explains why Elizabeth was at that biker bar—she’d actually moved to my town. I wonder what brought her to the city. Right now she’s probably wishing she’d stayed in our sleepy hometown, which makes me sad, because that place is a shithole. This is not the introduction to city life she needed.
Our coffee appears, and the two of us go silent until the waitress leaves.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” I blurt out, realizing I have no idea if she’s taken or not. She’s not wearing a wedding ring, although I have no idea why it matters to me.
It doesn’t.
I’m just curious.
“Nope,” she says, eyes on her coffee. “Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering,” I say, picking up the tiny cookie next to my coffee and popping it into my mouth.
“Not every man can handle a cop as his girlfriend,” she admits, shrugging. “Tried a few times, it never really worked out. I’ve been single for a while now, and I’m okay with it. It’s not like I have much free time anyway.”
But what about sex? I wonder. She can’t pretend that she doesn’t miss having a man’s hands on her, a man’s mouth on her pussy, licking at her clit until she screams. Then again—it’s been a while for me too. I shift on my seat, my cock hardening at the thought of Jo spread before me as I have my mouth on her. Fuck. This is not what I need to be thinking of right now.
“How about you?” she asks, bringing the mug to her pretty lips. “No girlfriend?”
I shake my head. “Nah.”
“How come?” she asks, putting the mug on the saucer and tilting her head to the side. “You’re a good-looking man, and women dig the bad boys.”
“Are you stereotyping me?” I ask, lips twitching. “Finding a woman isn’t hard, but finding a good one is. Although it’s not like I’ve been looking. I don’t know if I’d make a good boyfriend, to be honest. I’ve never really had any long-term girlfriends.” I pause and consider that. “Never met one who I wanted to keep.”
“Keep? You make women sound like puppies,” she says, smirking. “Maybe you just haven’t met the right one yet. Or maybe there’s no such thing as the right one, who knows. I think the people who stay together are the ones who make the choice to do so. It doesn’t just happen, and you have to want it more than anything.”
“That’s not very romantic,” I tease, loving listening to her voice her opinions. She’s definitely interesting, different, and smart. Why does she have to be a fuckin’ cop? Maybe that is what makes her so different though. Fuck, I can’t win.
“My life isn’t very romantic,” she admits, ducking her head. “That’s more Elizabeth’s life. She’s always dating, always just loving life, being social. I’m not really like that. I don’t really like going out and meeting new people.”
I can see Elizabeth being like that. When I knew her, she was shy, but she was always smiling, always up for an adventure. I can see her dating a lot, searching for romance and passion. She’s a dreamer, that one. I, on the other hand, am a realist. And although Jo claims to be one, I think she secretly wishes she had that passion too. A woman who hasn’t been treated right can claim they’re fine without passion, but it’s only because they don’t know any better. I imagine a well-loved woman would thrive in the world, and be a reflection of her man’s love and treatment.
But what the fuck do I know?
Actually, I’m probably a fuckin’ pro after living in the Wind Dragons clubhouse and observing all the couples, even Talon. They’re all different, but the love is there—you can see it. I’m the only single one in the house, since Ronan just found a new girlfriend. I really am the odd man out. It doesn’t bother me, exactly, it just makes me feel a little on the outside. Unlike in my old clubhouse, there are some nights where no one is in the clubhouse except me. That’s not really a clubhouse at all. Do I feel lonely? Is that what this is? Fuck, I have no idea.