Page 117 of The Butterfly Killer

Still, his feet lead him outside to the curb.

Marcus stared at the sleek black car parked obviously in front of the hospital. He looked to around if anyone else had taken notice of the out of place car, but everyone was going about their day as if a fancy ass car parked in front of the police station was a normal occurrence.

He couldn’t get his feet to move. The note was crumbled in his fist. He shoved it into his pocket as a gust of wind blew into him. There was no threat of it being swept away with how hard he was clutching it, but he needed to make sure he didn’t lost it. It was the only evidence he had that this was actually happening.

The car door popped open.

The last person he expected to see stepped out.

Black hair, tan skin, and bright green eyes. It was Miguel nephew. Cortez’s son. Roman’s cousin. The one that put the Hernandez’s cartel into the fucking ground and who was currently running the police in circles in trying to find who’d leaked the corruption to the press.

Lucas Arvispa Cortez. Marcus knew his name now. A few google searches had been enough to find out the man’s name.

Lucas lazily rested his arm on top of the door as he gazed back at Marcus. A minute passed as they didn’t move.

And then Marcus took the first step.

The note burned through his skin and through his pocket.

Marcus didn’t believe it was Lucas’s handwriting. Someone with access had placed it on Marcus’s desk. Any trace to Lucas would have been erased.

He stopped in front of Lucas. He opened his mouth. He choked up. The words, the question, got stuck in his throat. He tried again?—

“Marcus!”

Patrice’s voice made him whip around. His friend stood just in front of the hospital doors. His face showed fear and panic.How he could he know, Marcus couldn’t even fathom. Before he could tell Patrice to go back inside, Patrice started running toward him.

Marcus met him halfway. He couldn’t let Lucas meet Patrice. He couldn’t let them meet each other. He needed his two worlds to stay apart. He needed someone to be safe away from this corruption and Patrice needed to be protected, no matter what his friend said.

“Who isthat?” Patrice spat the words out like Lucas was the man who’d taken Marcus. It wouldn’t be too crazy to assume a serial killer might come back to finish what he started, but it simply wasn’t the truth.

Marcus stopped Patrice with an outstretched arm. Patrice barreled into it and if it weren’t for Marcus shoving him backward, Patrice might have actually attacked Lucas.

“You’re protecting him?” Patrice snarled.

Marcus’s eyes widened. He’d never seen Patrice like this. Never so out of control.

There was a snicker from behind him. He stiffened and Patrice glared over Marcus’s shoulder.

Marcus slowly turned to face Lucas who’d walked away from the car and to them. He looked Patrice over with an interest that sent a chill up Marcus’s spine. He turned around and stepped in front of Patrice to block Lucas’s view.

“I’m not his kidnapper, if that’s who you think I am.”

Patrice didn’t say anything.

Lucas smiled. “Mr. Palmer, would you join me for a ride? It’ll only take a couple minutes of your time and I can have you back in your friend’s care.”

Patrice fumed. “You aren’t taking him anywhere.”

“Patrice.”

Marcus’s calm voice drew Patrice’s attention. He glanced back at Marcus, but Marcus wasn’t looking at him. He wasstill staring at Lucas and Lucas was looking back. There was a silent exchange between the two. Marcus knew this was his only chance to hearing Lucas out. If he turned this down, he wouldn’t have another opportunity to find out what had happened to Roman.

He placed his hand over Patrice’s wrist. Patrice’s eyes pleaded with him to stay as if he knew Marcus had already made his choice. Marcus gently shook his head. He would apologize later though he doubted he could mean it.

Patrice had been the closest person he had before everything changed. But now, there was someone else who’d taken Marcus’s life completely and there was no way in changing it.

“I need to,” Marcus said. The firmness almost took him back. The look in Patrice’s eyes was hurt. There was no doubt about it.

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