Page 33 of Make You Mine

You can’t keep her from me.

Ava is MINE.

“I’ll kill him before he lays a single finger on her head,” I hiss out, making a note of the two drops of blood on the bottom right-hand side of the message. At the very edge, they’re small, but we need to know whose DNA they belong to since they don’t match the placement of the others.

At this point, I have to expect the worst.

Was this girl his only victim that night? Where is she from?

Closing the pictures, I open a PDF with vital information on the victim. I scan the document, looking for a picture copy of her ID, and stop short when I do.

From: Arlington, Texas (Approximately 25 minutes from Dallas)

Sarah Wilson was last seen with her best friend, Karla Alvarez, walking toward the parking lot of a popular college bar in Dallas. Both attended the university there and were out with friends celebrating a birthday. Neither made it to their car, and security footage is blurry at best; yet, we have the description of a pickup truck that left minutes after the girls were seen stumbling out.

I’m quick to pull up a missing person search for the area from two weeks ago to the present date, and it doesn’t take long to find her. Everything here matches the details given to me in the email—going back and forth between the two, I cross-examine the information and realize that no one has connected this dot.

Their focus is on the deceased and not on the best friend. It’s also not on the fact that they were kidnapped in Texas and her body found in New Mexico.

But where’s Karla? Do we have a second body somewhere else?

“She might still be alive.”Christ. Rubbing my temples, I go back to reading and, at the same time, collecting info for Captain Perez to disburse to those on the case. Thirty minutes in, and I have pictures, social media accounts for both, and the names of a few friends in attendance that night.

We need to find this woman before he...

My eyes scan the pictures from Karla’s Facebook account again, and a few things stand out: her hair is bleach blonde with bright blue at the tips, and her eyes are brown. The colored strands are long and wavy, framing her face in a way similar to Ava’s, yet not long enough. Her height is off, too. Standing beside the deceased in what looks to be a vacation picture, she is taller by a foot at least.

She doesn’t fit his usual choice.

The sudden pitter-patter of feet across the hardwood floors pulls my attention, and I look up just in time to watch Ava walk across the doorway. She’s wearing a white tank top and black yoga pants, while her feet are encased in a small pair of socks in the most obnoxious shade of pink. Awake and grumpy, she mutters something on her way to the kitchen, and I know it has to do with her need for coffee.

The woman is an addict, and I find it cute. In the two weeks since her arrival, I’ve found myself watching her when she’s distracted. Cataloging little nuances—mannerisms that make her all the more adorable to me.

How her clothes must be folded before leaving the laundry room.

How she’s drunk her weight in coffee every day with no issues or side effects.

How she hides from me because she’s embarrassed by the kiss on my chin.

How she looks coming out of the shower with little drops of water sliding down her soft skin. It was my body wash that she used that day. My scent on her soft flesh.

How motherfucking hard it is to keep it professional when all I want to do is take her lips—make her moan for me as I wring every last drop of pleasure from her body. Make her see how good we could be together.

Keep letting her hide. My attention needs to be on this case and Jason.

Not on her. Not on those curves that are meant to be touched—adored and worshipped.

“Lord, help me resist this temptation. Amen,” I say low, looking up toward my ceiling. From the other room, I hear her curse, and my cock twitches, thickening at just the sound of her voice. It’s another sign that I’mfucked.

Pulling up the captain’s contact info, I load up the doc with my findings into an email and hit send. Within seconds, my phone vibrates, and his name flashes across the screen with an incoming text message.

Reading it now. ~ C. Perez

Let me know your thoughts. He’s on the move, and my guess is he’ll make a pitstop in Arizona next. ~ Ford

Three tiny dots appear on the screen. Takes a few minutes for his message to come through.

Why? ~ C. Perez

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