Page 54 of Hemlock

"He looked mad, but it didn't seem it was at her. He didn't shove her in the car or yell or anything like that."

He nods, pulling in a deep breath before he stands.

"What do you know?"

He doesn't turn back to look at me or offer any explanation before leaving the room, the lock sliding back into place after he closes the door.

Chapter 27

Hemlock

There wasn't a moment when she was speaking that I thought she was lying.

Zara Hailey knows nothing about what Wilkinson is doing, but his fucking house is too big, his property too protected by security for him not to be doing something more than owning a few rental houses and a bar. He's up to something illegal, although it might not be exactly what we initially thought.

Ace meets me at the top of the stairs, but I know I don't have to tell him a damn thing. I have no doubt the man was not only watching but listening to our conversation by way of the hidden camera that's in the room. I know he was listening and doing what legwork her details could provide in real-time.

What I don't know is his plan for her now that she has disclosed everything she knows.

"It all checks out," Ace tells me when I step past him. "As you know, there's no other financial connection between her and Wilkinson. Other than her checks from the bar and her rent payments to him, she's clear. There haven't been any bonuses added, and no unexplained cash deposits. She's free to go."

I hate those words.

Free?

She may be able to leave here, but I'll never be free of her, and I know this is a mistake I'll have to live with.

"Her things," he says, handing me a purse. "Her watch and cell phone are in there. I'd urge her to keep her time here quiet. But if she goes to the police, I'll easily be able to shut that down although we haven't exactly made our presence known to local law enforcement."

I wait for him to walk away before I pull my eyes from her things. I shove away the idea of keeping her here longer, knowing that would really make us bad guys. She never should've been held against her will to begin with, but in a way I'm grateful that neither Ace nor Jericho tried to grill her before I woke up. They left it to me, telling me that this was still my case. Or maybe Ace is trying to test me, to make sure that I can cut her loose and keep my eyes on the bigger picture.

I can't help but think the man wants me to fail just so he can say I told you so, but does he really care enough for something like that?

Instead of going right back downstairs and cutting her loose, I climb the stairs to my room, opting to shower first.

I know I'm only postponing the inevitable, but I'm not ready for her to leave. I know if I gave her an option, she'd never stay, and that isn't even an option for me. I need her gone so I can focus on shutting Wilkinson down.

I have some faith that she won't tell him that we're looking into him because she seems to be the type that wouldn't be okay with women being trafficked and hurt, despite the fact that she was creeped out by what she saw and didn't say anything.

There are a lot of people that see shit that makes that part deep inside of them whisper that something was wrong and they don't speak up. It's a rare occurrence that people actually do take a step forward and ask hard questions, especially when it's in a situation that ultimately is none of their business.

It takes more energy than I feel like I can spare to strip out of my jeans and climb into the shower. I don't remember the bandage on my side until it grows heavy with the weight of water and begins to peel away from my skin. Frustrated that such a small wound has had the ability to leave me powerless, I toss the damn thing in the corner of the shower and let the water cascade over my face.

I know what I have to do. I don't have an option. There's no pick a door and hope for the best. Cutting her loose is the only option. It's the only way for me to stay here, to keep doing the work I was created for. I can't let the idea of keeping her—not that she'd even be interested in something like that—settle inside of me. It's already hard enough just thinking of her walking away.

I soap up my body, using a gentle hand over my wound, all the while trying to do my best to convince my mind that being selfish is just that. She isn't going to want to have anything to do with me after what she's been through. Her history is proof enough of that. She lived a quiet life, and I have no doubt that even though she may have wanted an adventure, watching a man get stabbed and then being held hostage in the basement of a cabin in the woods has gone a little past what she'd tolerate as far as her need for a thrill is concerned.

I towel dry slowly and dress even slower, blaming my injury for the lack of haste, but in reality, I know it's because there's nothing about going down and giving Zara her belongings and asking her to leave that I want to be a part of. At the same time, she's not an inanimate object I can just leave down there to visit when the mood strikes, either.

Getting my shirt over my head makes my eyes squeeze closed from the pain, but I know I deserve it. I deserve a lot of castigation for the situation I put her in, all because the woman calms some part inside of me that has only ever been touched when hurting bad people.

I pull in a deep breath before leaving the room, grabbing her purse from the bed before stepping out into the hallway.

I wonder as I walk through the house if Ace is following me on the camera system, waiting to see if he needs to step in to get rid of her when he determines that I won't be able to. I don't dislike the man. He's made some really good points, and I did agree not to form any type of bond with anyone I'm working with. At the time I didn't think it would be an issue. I was more concerned about being able to control that part of me that's willing to jump straight to hurting people instead of assessing a situation and deciding on something that doesn't include bloodshed.

My hand aches from the grip on the strap of her purse by the time I make it to the bottom of the basement stairs, and I stand with my head against the door, wondering what I would say and do if she begged me to keep her. Could I be strong enough to force her to leave?

Just wishing that would be her reaction is a weakness that I need to get under control.

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