Page 137 of Wicked Dares
What does this fucker want?
Okay, stupid question. He wants her—Piper.
But what does he want her for?
Does he want her back? Or some sort of revenge?
I still don’t know how bad their circumstances were and how they ended.
She’s never told me.
The worst thing she shared was that he was in prison. I never knew what for, though.
I came across the picture of Reece from his old social media accounts. I tried to get more info on him. All I found was a website with details of his accountancy firm that’s closed down and an article about him taking his clients hostage and holding them at gunpoint. I assumed that was the basis of his imprisonment.
“What are you thinking?” Locke asks.
“Nothing useful.” I push back from the desk and glance toward him. “I’m gonna go check on her.”
He nods. “I’ll keep looking through the footage. There must be something we missed.”
“I don’t know, Locke.” I shake my head. “If he screwed with the footage, we won’t find anything.”
“I’ll look anyway. It’s better than doing nothing.” Locke shrugs and cracks a reassuring smile.
“Thanks.”
I appreciate him being here. He’s stopping me from going crazy. Piper had Alexis. She cancelled her date and came back with us. She only left about an hour ago.
I leave him in the office and head upstairs two steps at a time.
By the time I reach the bedroom doorway, my chest already feels tight.
I go inside and find Piper curled in the window seat beneath the long curtains. Wrapped around her shoulders is a blanket she clutches to her chest, like she’s trying to hold herself together with it. Her skin has a bone-white color, drained of life and essence.
Her knees are pulled to her chest, and even from here I can see she’s trembling.
Fuck.
I need to fix this. Fix her. Make her happy again. Make her feelsafeagain.
The second I step toward her, she flinches, recoiling instinctively like someone in danger.
It takes her a second to realize it’s me.
Her reaction is enough to send something vicious moving through my chest.
People don’t react like that unless fear’s been carved deep into them.
For the millionth time I wonder: what the fuck did that bastard do to her?
“Hey,” I say quietly, pulling up a chair to sit in front of her.
Piper looks at me with tired, glassy eyes.
I reach for one of her hands beneath the blanket and lace my fingers through hers gently.
Her skin feels freezing.
