Page 18 of Hunting for Acceptance

I take his hand in mind as we walk into the backdoor of Stewart’s house. Everything is incredibly underwhelming if I’m honest. I’m not sure what I was expecting but everything is soordinary. There’s a coat hanging up next to the backdoor, shoes left below that.

Martin touches his ear piece. “He’s still out?”

Carlos’ voice comes back. “Yep. I still got eyes on him. You’re all good.”

“Let me know the moment you’ve found something and the police will be there shortly,” Ronny’s voice comes through the earpiece. My chest flutters, knowing our team is behind us on this.

Martin and I look at each other before spreading out, covering more ground as we search through Stewart’s things.

The two of us have worked so many cases together at this point, but this one feels different. It’s not just that we’re doing this for our mate, making this case more personal than the others. It’s more than that. We’re in sync in a way we weren’t before, like an invisible wall has vanished, letting us reallyseeeach other like never before.

I step into Stewart’s bedroom, a shiver going down my spine. Being in his room makes bile rise up in my throat. Stewart is so fucking cruel for the shit he’s been pulling and I can’t help but wonder if Dorian is just the tip of the iceberg. Has he pulled this before?

I look through his dresser, through his bedside drawers, through his closet and come out empty. Other than wanting to take a shower from being around his things.

“Found something,” Martin calls from somewhere in the house. I follow the sound of his voice, finding him in the living room. The couch has been moved and a floorboard moved.

“How did you think to look there?”

Martin shrugs. “There was a squeaky floorboard. I decided to follow my gut.”

“See,” I whisper with a soft smile. “So much more than just the muscles of the group.” I get on my knees beside him, kissing his cheek before looking down.

There’s a safe under the floorboard, its door pointing up in the air. I might be good at getting through door locks but safe locks are another thing entirely. Gods, I wish I had magic like my parents. It would make being a hunterso mucheasier at times like these.

I hum as I try to think of a way to break into this thing. I touch my ear piece. “You there, Ronny?”

“Yep, what’s up?”

“I’m looking at a safe right now and need your help. Can you look online and see if there’s an easy way to break in? Maybe a maintenance code or something?”

“Give me the model,” Ronny says and I can already hear his fingers flying over his keyboard. I tell him the make and describe it for him so it’s easier for him to find exactly what we need.

“This asshole isn’t just a dick but he’s bought the cheapest safe he could. The reviews on this thing are horrendous,” Ronny murmurs as we work.

“I have an idea,” Martin says, standing up and stepping out of the room. I follow Ronny’s instructions, turning the dial this way and that, trying to get this thing to fucking yield to my will. No luck.

“What?” I barely get out as Martin enters the room, swinging a fuckingsledgehammer. One solid hit to the safe has the door broken but open. I stare up at him with wide eyes. “Martin!”

Martin puts the sledgehammer on his shoulder, looking far too smug. “It would have been a shame not to use these muscles, Cooper.”

My mouth opens and closes a few times before I finally blurt out, “holy shit that was hot.”

“Guys! We can hear you! Please don’t fuck on the job,” Carlos says, his voice laced with humor.

My cheeks turn bright red and Martin’s aren’t much better. I clear my throat. “Sorry about that.”

Martin walks off, no doubt to put the fucking sledgehammer away so I busy myself with getting the contents of the safe out. There’s a few manila envelopes along with three urns. My stomach drops as I quickly realize what these are.

“You were right,” I murmur when Martin comes back into the room. “He has more than just Dee.”

“Fucking asshole,” Martin hisses out, squatting down and taking one of the urns from me. “How do we know which of these are Dee’s?”

I hold up the envelope, carefully opening it and reading over the words. They’re official orders for cremation and it’s not hard to find the one that Dorian signed. “She’s in the black one.”

“So we leave the others here for the cops to find?” I nod, trying my best to ignore the sadness that pulses through me, knowing there were others like Dorian, blackmailed into doing this asshole’s bidding while he kept their loved one’s remains hostage. I can’t wait to see this guy get what’s coming to him.

I’m not normally a violent person despite what I’ve decided to do with my life, but fuck, even I wanna punch this guy square in the fucking mouth.

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