Page 53 of Possessive Sinner
"That's not an answer!" she fires back.
Her hands are shaking. Her whole body is. But she doesn't back down. I stop a few feet in front of her.
"It is," I state evenly.
Her eyes flash.
"I need to go back," she insists. "I need to tell them what happened. Pete—" Her voice cracks on his name.
The grief is back. Raw. Bleeding through the anger. I cut in before she can spiral. "You're not going anywhere."
The words land like a gunshot. Silence follows. Her mother gasps softly behind her. Audra just stares at me.
"Excuse me?" she puts her fists against her hips, her chest heaving.
I force myself to stay focused. On her face. Not the rest of her. Not the way being this close to her is starting to feel like a physical need. Like something under my skin, pushing, demanding. Not now.
I hold her gaze. "The men who took you? That wasn't random."
That doesn't surprise her. I see it immediately. No confusion. No denial. Just… something dark settling deeper behind her eyes.
"I know," she admits. Her voice is different. Quieter. Colder.
I'm not sure what she thinks she knows, so I clarify, "They were after your husband."
She doesn't blink, doesn't flinch. "Thank you. I figured that out." A beat passes. I watch as her posture tenses. "They asked him questions. About accounts. Money."
Her voice is devoid of hysteria and without a trace of panic. She's just stating facts. She's displaying the same unsettling calm I saw her wearing in the warehouse. I study her for a moment. Most people break after what she went through. She didn't. She's still standing. Still thinking. Still putting pieces together. She watches me like she's weighing how much to giveme.
It would be almost amusing if it weren't so damn disturbing. That look in her eyes… I've seen it before. In men who stopped being afraid of consequences.
I see the moment she decides. "Pete was working on a transaction through the bank. Some people wanted to buy property, but he's…" she drifts for a moment, something flickers across her face, then she pulls herself back together. "Hewaslike a dog with a bone. He couldn't leave it alone. The clients were qualified, but he kept digging… I think he dug into the wrong accounts."
I nod once. She knows. Not everything. But enough. "Then you understand why you're not walking out that door."
Her eyes snap to mine. There it is. That fire I saw at the police station.
"You can't keep us prisoner," she states.
"They don't know what he told you," I continue, ignoring her words. "They don't know what you saw."
Her breathing picks up. Awareness reflects in her eyes. "They will assume you know something," I finish. "And men like that don't take chances."
I let that sit. Let it sink in.
"And you what?" her mother snaps suddenly. "You're just going to protect us out of the goodness of your heart?"
"Mom," Audra warns sharply.
I turn my attention to Stacy Connor. Up close, she looks even smaller than she did from a distance. Too thin. Too tense. Her eyes dart between me and the door like she's planning an escape she won't survive.
"Something like that," I confirm.
Her mom lets out a short, humorless laugh. "Men like you don't do anythingout of the goodness of your heart."
I tilt my head slightly. "Men like me?"
Her chin lifts, despite the tremor in her hands. "Dangerous men," she clarifies. "Possessive. The kind who thinks they can buy people and call it protection."
