you too. You must be super dense because I’ve told you already that I don’t know anything. I don’t even know who you are or where I am. So if you think I’m gonna magically have this epiphany and get infused with all this information, then we’re gonna be here a long time.”
We’ve watched her on the video and see nothing to indicate that she might be anything other than Gemini Sheridan.
“Well, we could always withhold your medication.”
P anic flashes over her. “Oh God, please don’t. Or if you do, just kill me instead. I don’t know what you want with me. Rape must not be what you’re after or you would’ve done that already. If you were going to kill me, I think you would’ve done that too. Either way, go ahead and get it over with already. I’ll beg if you want me to. If you want the sex, just go on ahead and take it. But please, don’t withhold my drugs.”
Later that night, I run through everything she’s said and I have to believe her. I’ve never had a detainee that behaved like she does. Most beg to stay alive. Most will say they’d do anything to remain alive. Not her. She truly acts like she doesn’t care about dying. And from witnessing what she goes through, I can certainly understand why.
And her reaction to my remark about withholding meds clenches my gut. She had that trapped look that made me feel like a shit. I realize there’s no way in hell I would ever do that to her.
I call Colt. “I’m pulling out. I need to go to San Angelo.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“She doesn’t know anything, or at least my gut tells me that.”
Colts groans. “Drex, my gut tells me you’re getting in too deep. Let me make the call.”
“No. If you do, I’m afraid something terrible will happen to her. That’s what my gut tell s me . Trust me on this, Colt.”
“Your call. You’re the one with the connections.”
“Thanks. And good luck on finding your perps.”
H ow can Nick be dead? How is that even possible? What did he do to deserve this?
Tall, dark , and mysterious is back and sitting next to the bed. He’s finally unhooked the handcuff. He was nice enough to get me some clothes and allow me to shower, though he most likely did it for selfish reasons. I was reeking up a storm. My mind reels with questions and I can’t just sit back and not know the answers.
“How did Nick die?” That question burns a hole through me. Nick, sweet , gentle Nick, who would never be unkind to anyone. Dead.
The man looks down as if he doesn’t want to answer me.
“Please, you have to tell me. I need to know.”
His answer sickens me. “He was shot in the back of the head.”
It’s so shocking, I gasp. The first thing I think about is whether he knew it was coming or if it took him by surprise. Did he suffer first? So I ask him that.
When his head slowly slices up and down one time, it’s almost more than I can bear. My body crumples onto the bed. It’s a good thing I wasn’t standing or I would’ve face planted. Then something else hits me. How does this man know all of this? And who is he? Is he going to do the same to me? All those weird things my mom used to say rush back to me at once.
“Gemini, be careful around others, especially men. They’ll always tell you things just to get something from you. Never trust a boy. He’ll only break your heart and take your money.”
At the time, I didn’t know we had any money —I thought she was being melodramatic. What I thought she was trying to tell me was not to let them get in my pants. But now … holy hell, I’m not sure about anything anymore.
Lifting my head, I look up at him suspiciously. “How do you know all of this? Are you ever going to tell me who you are?”
He shrugs. “My name is Drexel Wolfe and I’m a private investigator. I was hired by the FBI to look into the disappearance of young women from the Dirty Sixth Street clubs. We’ve suspected human trafficking but then as I told you,
We’ve watched her on the video and see nothing to indicate that she might be anything other than Gemini Sheridan.
“Well, we could always withhold your medication.”
P anic flashes over her. “Oh God, please don’t. Or if you do, just kill me instead. I don’t know what you want with me. Rape must not be what you’re after or you would’ve done that already. If you were going to kill me, I think you would’ve done that too. Either way, go ahead and get it over with already. I’ll beg if you want me to. If you want the sex, just go on ahead and take it. But please, don’t withhold my drugs.”
Later that night, I run through everything she’s said and I have to believe her. I’ve never had a detainee that behaved like she does. Most beg to stay alive. Most will say they’d do anything to remain alive. Not her. She truly acts like she doesn’t care about dying. And from witnessing what she goes through, I can certainly understand why.
And her reaction to my remark about withholding meds clenches my gut. She had that trapped look that made me feel like a shit. I realize there’s no way in hell I would ever do that to her.
I call Colt. “I’m pulling out. I need to go to San Angelo.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“She doesn’t know anything, or at least my gut tells me that.”
Colts groans. “Drex, my gut tells me you’re getting in too deep. Let me make the call.”
“No. If you do, I’m afraid something terrible will happen to her. That’s what my gut tell s me . Trust me on this, Colt.”
“Your call. You’re the one with the connections.”
“Thanks. And good luck on finding your perps.”
H ow can Nick be dead? How is that even possible? What did he do to deserve this?
Tall, dark , and mysterious is back and sitting next to the bed. He’s finally unhooked the handcuff. He was nice enough to get me some clothes and allow me to shower, though he most likely did it for selfish reasons. I was reeking up a storm. My mind reels with questions and I can’t just sit back and not know the answers.
“How did Nick die?” That question burns a hole through me. Nick, sweet , gentle Nick, who would never be unkind to anyone. Dead.
The man looks down as if he doesn’t want to answer me.
“Please, you have to tell me. I need to know.”
His answer sickens me. “He was shot in the back of the head.”
It’s so shocking, I gasp. The first thing I think about is whether he knew it was coming or if it took him by surprise. Did he suffer first? So I ask him that.
When his head slowly slices up and down one time, it’s almost more than I can bear. My body crumples onto the bed. It’s a good thing I wasn’t standing or I would’ve face planted. Then something else hits me. How does this man know all of this? And who is he? Is he going to do the same to me? All those weird things my mom used to say rush back to me at once.
“Gemini, be careful around others, especially men. They’ll always tell you things just to get something from you. Never trust a boy. He’ll only break your heart and take your money.”
At the time, I didn’t know we had any money —I thought she was being melodramatic. What I thought she was trying to tell me was not to let them get in my pants. But now … holy hell, I’m not sure about anything anymore.
Lifting my head, I look up at him suspiciously. “How do you know all of this? Are you ever going to tell me who you are?”
He shrugs. “My name is Drexel Wolfe and I’m a private investigator. I was hired by the FBI to look into the disappearance of young women from the Dirty Sixth Street clubs. We’ve suspected human trafficking but then as I told you,
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