When You Were Mine (Stone Lake 2)

“I still don’t see why you need to be there.”

“Because she won’t talk to you otherwise and while George might, he might also talk to you through the barrel of his shotgun.”

“Christ.”

“So, is two okay for you?”

“I can pick you up, there’s no point in us driving separate.”

“I’d rather drive myself,” I tell him, not backing down.

I don’t want to be alone in a car with Gavin while we drive up the mountain to Loretta’s. I’d rather not be alone with him period.

“Suit yourself,” he responds, clearly not happy.

The silence gets stilted and I stare at Gavin. He returns my stare. Then he lets out an annoyed breath and stomps out without so much as a goodbye.

“Is there something you need to tell me, Luna?” Ben asks and I exhale as I turn to look at him.

Ben really is a great guy. Dark hair the color of midnight, with chocolate eyes, strong jawline, the type of biceps that could only be described as arm porn and although he has a long-sleeved shirt on, tattoos run across his knuckles and across the outside of both his hands. I’ve never dated a guy with so much ink, but I have to admit it’s sexy. Most everything about Ben is sexy though. We have fun together. He has a good sense of humor and he’s gentle with me, which I need. He’s been pushing for more in our relationship, I’d be crazy to let him get away.

“It’s a long story.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says turning into me.

I slide my hand against his cheek and bring my face in close to his, thankful it’s so early and the office is empty. The rest of the staff will be here soon, but for now it’s just the two of us.

“I’ll tell you. I promise. Friday night over dinner, I’ll cook.”

“Josh—”

“Josh is going to the movies with his buddies. He’ll be out most of the night.”

“Now I’m liking the sound of this date even more.” His tone softens, his warm breath fluttering against my skin as he leans in to kiss me briefly.

“It’s not a pretty story,” I warn him, feeling the need to let him know that.

“I didn’t imagine it was,” he says, his fingers, sliding into my hair. “But I learned something about Agent Gavin Lodge,” he adds.

“What’s that?”

“He’s a fool. He has to be to let you get away,” he responds, and the sweetness of those words slide through me like melted butter.

Gavin

“You’re late,” I bark.

I’m an ass, but I haven’t gotten over seeing Luna this morning. I know she’s been avoiding me, which pissed me off, but I’ve adapted to it. A part of me figures it’s for the best. If this guy sticks to his usual MO he’ll be moving to another town very soon. That means I’ll be going there. This guy has killed women in twenty states.

Twenty.

When serial killers travel to this extent, they are almost impossible to catch. The states aren’t even that close together. He’s killed from Montana—which is where he first got on my radar—to Maine. There was a murder in Georgia and one in Michigan. I can’t seem to pin this guy down. I thought I was getting close and that’s when he caught me by surprise. He was waiting in my hotel room in Dahlonega, Georgia. He hit me across the head with something. And there was a sting of a needle as he injected me with what I later found out was Propofol.

The hit was so hard my vision was blurry and I almost blacked out. I staggered and fell into a glass table. I laid there helpless in the shattered glass, unable to focus. His face was nothing but a blur. The bastard stabbed me twice before I managed to pick up a large jagged shard of glass and slice at the blurry face over me.

He didn’t speak, which I felt was weird. Most killers love to taunt you. But I guessed the darker outline of color was a hood or his hair and the lighter color I figured was skin. I aimed based on that, and I know I sliced into his face. I don’t know how well. I just know that when I woke up, I was in the hospital and I had been in a coma. They tell me I barely survived. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn’t been better if I’d died. It’s hard to acknowledge the fact that if I’d died no one would have missed me. No one but Dern and I doubt he would if the bottle he grabbed was deep enough.

“The meeting lasted longer than I assumed. I see you’ve developed a cheerful personality since leaving Stone Lake,” Luna says smoothly as she walks over to my car, carrying a small white box in one hand. She looks at me, but only briefly before her eyes go to Dern. “Agent Dern, it’s been a while,” she greets, reaching out her hand to him. She sure as hell didn’t offer to shake my hand. There was no reason she should, but I still notice the difference.