“The problem is, you’re getting in the way.” Caleb shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, staring in through the glass. It wasn’t as easy to follow out here and he had to keep a tenuous connection or Oz would figure it out—
“Can you still read her?”
Mentally, he cursed. He’d never told Oz about the weird connection he shared with Destin. But apparently, it didn’t matter. She’d figured it out on her own. With an easy shrug, he lied through his teeth. “It’s been a long time, Oz. We’re trying to find our groove again and it’s taking a while.”
The look in her eyes said she didn’t believe him.
Caleb didn’t care.
Destin was upset. He could feel it, although he wasn’t tuned in enough to figure out the cause.
Images more than anything. Darkness. The scrape of concrete against his back—residual memory from Monica.
A panicked cry and then hands covering her mouth, slamming her wrists down onto the pavement. Hurried, low voices. “What the fuck—she’s not out…” That voice… Monica knew that voice. And he sensed it as Destin thought, Gotta remember that…one of the other girls recognized a voice…
It was straining Destin’s control, though. Uncertain if he could make this connection without touching her, he reached out anyway and watched as some of the tension faded from her shoulders. Saw as she flicked him a quick glance when Monica bowed her head.
The connection between them deepened and some of that misery she was feeling, he pulled it into himself, watched as a bit more strain faded from her eyes.
Everything else around him faded, burning away into white noise. Oz said something and he knew he replied, figured it was probably a logical answer because she didn’t keep yapping at him. But he had no idea what she’d asked. What he’d said.
Just Destin, as she relived a girl’s attack.
He felt the pain as powerful hands threatened to crush fragile bones. Felt his rage tear through him only to all but drown under the onslaught of fear.
Laughter cut through the strange spell that gripped him, piercing the silence, but never quite penetrating it. That part of his mind that still functioned, kept him upright, kept him from drooling or walking out in traffic, made a mental note that the place was getting crowded. People flowing into the restaurant. None of them mattered.
Just Destin. Just her.
And through their connection, he felt Destin stiffen.
Chapter Twelve
It hit too hard.
Monica had remembered far more than she realized, buried under a thin, tough shield that had gotten her through the awful days, the horrible nights. Destin kept that thin shield in place, determined not to damage it. If that was how Monica needed to get through this, more power to her.
But now the images were dancing through Destin’s mind.
A face…
That security guard.
It had been him.
Destin didn’t know how, didn’t know why she couldn’t get a read on him, but he was involved.
And…
Her mind fought to lock on the next face.
It was hard, though, because Monica was rebelling, resisting the connection even as Destin fought to keep it. Resisting, because Monica knew the boy. Those memories were hidden, muzzy by drugs and fear and denial… Denial because she knew him. Knew him. Liked him. Trusted him.
And that made it so much harder. So even though some part of her knew, she tucked that knowledge deep inside her and hid it away.
I’m sorry…you have to let me see him…
“Monica, hey! Now what is this…they know I like when you sit in my section…”
And that fragile shield shattered. Monica’s breath hitched, and caught.
With her shields low, Destin was completely exposed. Not just to Monica’s memories…but his.
Stupid cunt. You always got to fucking ignore me. You twitch your little ass and think I don’t see, but I do. Now I’m going to show you—
Hot, hungry need. The desire to control. The hurt. Laughter…memories of a man watching this girl. Even here…
Here, in this place where she claimed to feel safe.
Slowly, Destin looked up and focused.
He had a nice face.
That was all she could think.
He had a nice face.
And he stood there next to Monica, smiling down at her like he had every right to do so. Like he hadn’t been one of the two men to grab her, throw her down and rape her.
Monica looked a little dazed and Destin realized she hadn’t done as good a job as she’d hoped, keeping her connection apart from the girl. With a confused look on her face, Monica looked up at the guy next to the table and some of the fear, some of the memories she tried to hide from started to break free. “Hey, Cory…ah, I didn’t know you were working today.” And her voice trembled.
“I’m…” He eyed her oddly and his words trailed off as Destin rose.
His lids flickered and she felt his alarm spike. He felt so smug, secure in the knowledge that Monica might not have been completely out of it when they raped her, but she didn’t remember it…he got off it on still. Destin could feel all of that and it infuriated her.
Now he worried.
Something he saw in Monica’s eyes worried him.
But the look on Destin’s face worried him even more.
Damn, she thought sourly. I need to work on that.
He turned to walk away. Destin glanced toward the front of the restaurant and her gut clenched in icy warning.
Oz had seen it. All of it.
And this kid had no chance of keeping Oz out of his head.
The woman at the door would kill him, Destin realized.
Let her…some quiet voice whispered.
A million thoughts seemed to hurtle through her mind.
She could stay there, blind and ignorant of what would come.
It would maybe even be justice.
Maybe.
No, it wouldn’t.
Because there was more to this than just this boy. And her best chance of seeing it through was going to be through him. That all died if Oz got a hold of him.
Nausea and pain churned inside her as she realized she had a chance to do penance here. In a painful, awful way.
Five years ago, because she’d rushed things, a girl had died. Destin’s job had been to save her, and hopefully find justice, closure for the other girls who had been hurt by him.
Now she had another monster in front of her. She could let him walk to his death, and it would be sweet. Or she could move now…and let all his other victims maybe have a chance at finding justice as well.
She fell in place behind him.
Halfway to the door, he started to run.
They hit the door and he made Oz in a second, spinning away from her before she could catch him. Caleb tore off down the road after him, but when Oz went to do the same, Destin caught her boss and slammed her against the nearby brick wall.
“No,” she snapped, glaring into Oz’s pale eyes. “No. You can’t do this.”
Oz bucked against her and Destin applied more pressure. But they were of a similar height and weight, too closely matched when it came to hand-to-hand. They ended up on the ground, surrounded by a bunch of slack-jawed onlookers. They didn’t stay quiet for long and in the back of her mind, Destin knew she’d be horrified in a few minutes.
“Destin, get the fuck off,” Oz snarled, her voice caught between a sob and a moan.