He swallows, and the action makes my fist curl… My ears begin to ring.
“Howdo you know them?” I ask again, the words drawing out this time as I take a step closer.
“Just… through a friend,” he says.
Liar.
“A friend?” My brows raise, and I take another look at the screens again, all the photos of the beautiful women he’s chatted with over the last few years.
An uncomfortable, vile feeling rises from the pit of my stomach, and I feel like I’m going to hurl. I blink back the emotion and force myself to speak.
“Tell me something, Jeff,” I manage. “If I looked up these beautiful women on Missing Persons reports, how many would I find?”
He doesn’t reply, though his eyes move to the pictures of the women on the screen as if he’s counting.
White lights flutter in my vision. I barely realize my knife is back at his cheek until I see blood dripping down the blade.
“I… I don’t…Please—”
He’s trembling.
I peer at the photo again, squinting to make sure this is definitely Wren’s former stalker, Damien Berzatto.
I know it is.
I watched all the information on him that I could after what happened on New Year’s Eve.
Keep it together.
“Looks like your buyer is on a permanent vacation,” I force out, pointing to Damien in the photo. “Do you have a new one, or is Bonnie a special case?”
“I…”
I move my knife to his dick, and he squeaks in protest.
“Wait—stop—”
“Tick-tock, little fucker,” I snap, feeling the blackout coming. “Tell me how you know them, or I start slicing.”
“From the band we were in,” he blurts. “Back in college.”
“You were in a band with Damien Berzatto?” I ask about Wren’s stalker.
“No, no.” He shakes his head. “Rad knew Damien through some friend of his—Erik, I think. That guy in the black. The band were these guys—” He points to Rad and three men in the photo hanging their arms over Rad and his shoulders.
Three men that I really wish I didn’t recognize.
Because the last time I saw them, my knife was dragging across the short one’s throat.
“Those four were in a band. I was just… I helped them get gigs, that’s it,” Jeff goes on. “I knew people, some who owed me favors, people who could make things happen.”
I curse under my breath, my insides nearing their tipping point at the new information. “Tell me one of them didn’t put you up to chatting with her,Jeff,” I say.
Because if they’re the ones after her, I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself.
“I…”
I jerk the knife back. “Don’t fucking lie to me—”
