Gym Junkie

She says something and crosses her legs, tucking up underneath her bottom. I can see the muscles in her thighs. I get a vision of her muscular thighs up over my shoulders, and I remember how good she felt around me, how her arms felt around me…

Jesus Christ.

This is the worst form of torture.

Perspiration beads on my forehead as I try to concentrate on what she saying.

What if…? No.

I watch her talk for a moment, but I can’t concentrate on a word she’s saying. My eyes are focused on her big, pouty lips.

One more time…

No.

Rourke knocks on the door and Tully jumps up to answer it. “Oh, hi,” she says as she lets him in.

I wince. For fuck’s sake. The last time I saw this guy, I dragged him out of his chair at the restaurant.

“Brock, this is Rourke,” she introduces us, her nervous eyes flickering between us.

I shake his hand. “Hello.”

He forces a scared smile. “Hi.”

I need to apologise before I say anything. “Ah, listen. I’m sorry about the first time we met.”

“You scared the crap out of me. I ran all the way back to the office.”

I smirk. “Sorry.” Who fucking admits that? Even if it’s true, this guy is a dork. A chickenshit dork. “Take a seat,” I say, and they both fall onto the couch. “Tell me about this new information you have.”

Rourke and Tully exchange glances, and I know they have talked about what they are going to say to me.

“Well, this makes me uncomfortable to say out loud, but I feel that in order for you to understand my theory, I have to tell you everything,” Tully says.

I frown.

“Remember when you were wanting to know who was driving a police car with the number plate that you had?”

“Yeah.” I look between her and Rourke. Rourke nods at Tully, urging her to go on.

“Peter was driving that car.”

My eyes narrow. I fucking knew it.

“B-but,” she stammers. “I don’t think he did this. At least, if he is involved, I know he didn’t kill the girls himself. He must have a partner.”

“Why?”

She swallows nervously and looks between us.

“Peter is gentle. He’s a dick, but he couldn’t kill a fly when we were kids. He can’t even watch boxing on television because he thinks it’s too violent. He’s just not capable of physically killing these women.”

“I don’t think—”

She cuts me off. “There’s more.” She pauses and blows out a big breath. “You know how Rourke thinks the lab is bugged?”

“Yes,” both Rourke and I answer.

“Yesterday, when you were all in the meeting downstairs, Rouke, Peter came to the lab.” She swallows and pulls her hand through her hair.

I frown as I listen. She seems nervous. What’s going on?

“He hit on me,” she whispers.

“What?” I snap.

“He hit on me, pinned me up against the counter, and he was really quite aggressive.”

My fury bubbles over, and I stand immediately, as the whole sky turns red.

“But, it proves he didn’t do it.”

I turn to her. “How?” I snap. Wait until I get my hands on that fucker. He’s going to die.

“He’s not killing these girls himself. He’s just not capable, and if the lab is being bugged, he wouldn’t have hit on me for whoever is involved to hear about it. If he knew someone else was listening, there is no way he would have done it.” Her eyes are wide as she tries to prove her point. “Think about it, Brock. He would lose his job immediately and give someone else extra ammunition against him. If he knew the lab was bugged, he wouldn’t have done what he did. No way in hell. It doesn’t make sense.”

I frown as I think. She may have a point. My blood runs cold as a new scenario enters my brain.

“But if he’s not killing the girls, what would he be doing?” Rourke frowns. “How would he be involved if he’s not involved?”

“He’s offering them protection in exchange for sex,” I tell them as all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place.

“What do you mean?” Tully asks, shocked.

“I was told that someone within the police force is offering the women at risk protection in exchange for sex whenever they want or need it. Gang bangs, threesomes, all kinds of shit. But he can’t protect them, because he nor the others involved have any fucking idea who’s behind all this.”

Tully’s eyes widen. Rourke’s, too.

“That makes more sense to me,” Tully whispers. “Peter’s a sleazebag, but he’s not violent. I know that for certain. I grew up with him.”

“So, you want us to put a camera in the lab?” Rourke asks.

I stare at the two of them for a moment as I think. Rourke’s a wimp, and Tully’s safety is non-negotiable. If they get caught, there is no way that either of them could defend themselves. “No,” I say. “I’m not putting you two in the firing line.” I exhale heavily. “At this point, all we know for certain is that Meredith is in danger and knows something she’s not letting slip.” I shake my head. “I need her to tell us what she knows so we can get to them. More girls are going to die unless we do.” I begin to pace. “How do I get Meredith to open up and relax?” I ask. “I’m at a loss with her. She’s the most difficult person to read.”