Page 41 of Roughing
Gordon stepped out of the house, wearing black jeans and a black hoodie. Perfect clothes for stalking unsuspecting women.
ChapterFifteen
FOOL OR GENIUS
~~Briggs~~
Iwas saved by Gordon’s appearance, or was I? Oddly, I was disappointed.
“What’s he carrying?” Michella held up the binoculars.
“Can you see what it is?” I whispered, even though Gordon couldn’t possibly hear us all the way down the block.
“A duffel. Could be his murder kit.”
“Murder kit? What the fuck is a murder kit?”
“It contains all the items a killer needs for abduction, murder, and possibly cleanup, like a knife, a hammer, rope, zip ties, that kind of stuff.”
I hadn’t known about murder kits, and the thought sent a chill through my spine. “Did you ever come across one when you were with Gordon?”
“No, but I never had any reason to look.”
“You didn’t suspect something was off with him? I mean, if he’s the killer, surely there were telltale signs or red flags.”
“There were. He liked to leave at all hours and refuse to explain where he’d been. I thought he had other girlfriends.”
“And that’s one explanation.”
“And doing nefarious deeds is another.”
“Michella, can you determine if the disappearances coincide with his absences?”
“Not really, but most of the disappearances happened when we were in the off stage of our off-and-on relationship.”
“Do you have any basis for your suspicions other than you don’t like him?”
She narrowed her gaze, annoyed with my questioning. I hated defending the asshole, but I also believed she had blinders on when it came to considering anyone else.
“He’s backing out of the driveway.” Michella’s words drew my attention back to Gordon. He traveled down the street right past us. We ducked, though I doubted he’d be able to see through my tinted windows.
“Follow him. Please.” Michella’s voice took on a measure of desperation as Gordon’s taillights disappeared around the corner.
I started the engine and pulled away from the curb, whipping a U-turn in the middle of the street. When we arrived at the intersection, Gordon was three blocks ahead.
“Don’t get too close, or he’ll be suspicious.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Michella narrowed her eyes and glared, not appreciating being called ma’am. “Hurry up, we’re going to lose him.” She leaned forward as if that’d make me go faster. I didn’t bother to point out she’d told me to stay back and was now telling me to speed up. As always with Michella, I’d do whatever she asked, with the exception of baring my soul.
This thing between us was about more than sex, and I’d be a fool to deny what I’d known for months. Michella was my drug of choice, and I’d do anything to spend time with her. Almost anything.
This epiphany slammed me in the chest. I’d never had a relationship that progressed further than booty calls, yet now I was begging her for something I’d never wanted before. I wanted it now, only I wasn’t sure what it was. Did I want her to be my confidante, my best friend, my lover, my supporter? All of the above? None of the above?
There was one thing I did know. I wasn’t capable of walking away. I’d tried, but I wasn’t strong enough, and her price for admission into her inner circle was high. I’d have to lower my walls and let her in. I wasn’t ready for that yet.
“Quick, beat that light,” Michella shouted. A half block ahead, the light turned yellow. I gunned it and crossed through the intersection as it turned red. Craning my neck, I no longer saw the taillights.
