Page 17 of Rooster

In keeping things as ethical as possible, there were things I'd never be able to do. Henry's lack of integrity meant he could travel through all sorts of holes and pathways to get what he needed.

I've dabbled. There is always an unethical part of finding information needed on the internet. Every firewall you cross is a violation. I've justified my searches and information seeking because they lead me to help people. I see it as a lesser evil than whatever someone is facing. Then there's the fact that many of the firewalls crossed are into the computer systems put in place by criminals, and I have no problem at all crossing those.

I drop my head into my hands, frustration quadrupling inside of me.

All of my efforts seem futile. Why have I been losing sleep trying to track Henry down when I've never been able to catch up to him, much less get a step ahead in order to catch him?

I lift my eyes to one of my screens. I don't have the volume on, but I don't have to have audio to remember the conversation I had with Morgan in the hot tub last night. I've played it in my head over and over.

I don't know if I should be concerned with how easily she pulled such personal information from me.

I know that I'd have an issue talking about Henry with others because until my brother pops his head up, I don't bring him up. It's always with the hope that I can get through one stage in my life without him disturbing my peace.

Maybe I offered answers to her questions so readily because I wanted her to feel safe around me. I didn't want to see more of the fear in her eyes when she first saw me in the house and thought I was Henry.

Maybe I got lost in her eyes, and the woman could've asked me anything, and I would've told her the truth.

I smile too when I see her smile on the playback.

I could've stayed in that hot tub until my skin started to melt from my body, and I would've smiled the entire time. Just thinking that snaps me back into reality.

I've only had contact with this woman because of Henry's manipulation.

With Morgan not being Henry's type, it makes it even more blatantly obvious that she's Henry's pick for me.

I'm playing into exactly what he wants me to do—protect the scared, terrorized woman. He knows I'd do anything in my power to keep her safe from him.

I'm doing exactly what he expects of me in this game. It's my turn, but he's backed me into a corner and forced my hand.

I drop my eyes to a different monitor, typing in code to start yet another search with slightly different parameters.

Every other time Henry has forced me into one of these damn games, when it's over and he's done playing, he's quick to let me know exactly how easily I could've caught him. It's always a simple fix, a half of a step over a line I'd never cross.

It's as if my brother is trying to pull me into the darkness. I know the satisfaction he'd feel to know that he was able to taint me somehow, but this is the first time he has used another human to put me in this position. That tells me just how awful he has gotten.

He has done some awful stuff over the years, but I never knew him to become one of the types of monsters that would hurt a woman.

Part of me wants to argue that he terrorized Kaylee a little, that the nick on her throat from his knife was minor at worst, but I think that's what he wants me to do. He wants me to justify his behavior, and it's not something I'm going to do this time around.

"That info was excellent."

I snap my eyes up to Bandera as he walks into the conference room.

I feel a spark of joy knowing I was able to help him yesterday evening. He's been tracking one of the women he met on the strip and lost her in the crowd. Thankfully, the little information he did have was enough to find a home address.

"Not in danger then?" I ask. Most women and girls who the guys come into contact with wouldn't have a permanent residence. More than half have been moved from place to place so often it's nearly impossible to even identify them.

He pulls in a deep breath before responding. "I don't know of a single person in Vegas who isn't in some sort of danger, but she isn't being trafficked. So I guess that's a good thing."

"So you're moving on to the next job?"

He tilts his head, his attention not on me, and I don't have to follow his eyes to know exactly what he's looking at. I don't give him any reaction. At least I try not to, but I feel like the guy almost getting busted jacking off by a college dormmate.

For the record, I did not have my hands anywhere near my dick but, full disclosure, my body has had a very primal and visceral reaction to watching Morgan in the hot tub.

"You don't find that a little creepy?" he asks, pointing to the monitor.

"I'm in the hot tub with her," I say by way of explanation.

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