“I’ll swing by,” Stryker replied.
“Emerson, you should come with him. Gordon and I call it our afternoon of insanity.” Heather laughed. “It’s a lot of fun. Kids, grandkids. The dog is the most behaved out of the whole group. We play games and have a cookout.”
“Thanks, Heather,” Emerson replied.
As soon as his aunt and uncle headed out, Stryker shifted his attention to Emerson. “Ready to hunt down a killer?”
She nodded. “So damn ready.”
9
The Spite F*ck
While Stryker drove her to The Dungeon, Emerson snuck a peek at him.So freakin’ gorgeous.But it was the perpetual frustration in his eyes that sent her pulse into the stratosphere. She wanted to comb her fingers through his hair, tug him close, and marry her lips to his. The constant pulsing between her legs would not stop, so she’d come up with a plan. If she managed through another anxiety-inducing evening in the dungeon, she’d reward herself with Stryker.
My spite fuck…if he even wants me.
Rather than take her through the front door, he guided her to the back of the club and over to a gray metal fire door. There were few cars back there and no foot traffic. The scanner cleared him to enter. After opening the door, he waited for her to enter.
The music was so loud, it thundered in her chest. She wanted to forget about the pressure of the case, tug him onto the dance floor and lose herself in the seductive beat. She wanted to remove his tailored suit jacket and let herself feel the hard striations of his cut muscles. She wanted to have fun, like everyone else in that room. But, she wasn’t like everyone else in that room. She was there to catch a killer.
As they made their way across the room, her palms got sweaty. Like Pavlov’s dog, she became hyperaware that she was heading below ground. Stryker waited for the scanner, then opened the door. Once they were in the stairwell, he closed it behind them.
She started shaking, but she followed, counting the steps, one at a time. When they got to the bottom, fear settled in her chest. After unlocking the door, he entered the cavernous room. The lights illuminated his way to the console. At the foot of the steps, she remained frozen in place.
After booting up his systems, he retreated to the restroom.
And that’s when she panicked. She shifted toward the steps. Twelve and she was free. Little stars clouded her thoughts and she sucked down a breath to steady herself.
Then, she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. In, slowly. Out, slowly. Again, and again. Stryker opened the bathroom door. Seconds later, he was by her side. She opened her eyes.
“You can do this,” he murmured.
She walked on rubbery legs to the console, pulled out the chair, but couldn’t bring herself to sit.
Stryker removed his jacket, and she soaked up his broad shoulders and chiseled chest pressing against his fitted dress shirt. Seeing him strip off a layer of clothing was the perfect distraction. This time, her insides came alive for all the right reasons. Next, he rolled up his sleeves.
When she sighed, he looked at her.
“You’re doing great,” he said.
“I’m sure my staring at you is creepy. You have a calming effect on me.”
“Stare away, if it helps.”
Together, they sat side-by-side. Like the previous time, they would divvy up the work. Stryker spent a few minutes keying in what they needed.
“I’ll be surveilling L2, where April worked,” Stryker explained. “She filled in on L1, so you’ll view those videos, going back two weeks before her death.”
Dragging her eyes from him, she began studying the video. She worked until the claustrophobia crashed through her concentration and she became anxious all over again. After a few calming breaths, she refocused and continued working. It helped knowing Stryker was inches away, his confidence and inner strength a continual source of comfort.
There were so many people who rolled up to the bar, and half of them were masked. People started blending together. Had she seen that man before or was he new? Was he trying to chat April up or just making small talk while she mixed his cocktail?
While Emerson was searching for a man, she couldn’t rule out a woman, either. After what felt like forever, she glanced at the time.
“Thirty minutes,” she said. “If I’ve seen the same person more than once, I haven’t caught it.”
“I hear you,” he said. “This is easier for me because I know some of the members, but I’m here so seldom these days. Plus, it’s a revolving door.”
