Page 8 of Claiming His Bunny
“As if doctors can’t be abusers,” Michelle objects. “What do we know?”
“That’s the problem,” Smith sighs. “We don’t know anything. Aaron doesn’t go to school. In fact, he doesn’t go anywhere outside the house except to visit his therapist in the same hospital where his father works. We’ll need to interview the boy and get access to his medical records.”
Laura or Lora or whatever her name is makes an outraged noise. “Doctor Adams is an upstanding citizen and an excellent doctor. He supports countless charities and works in the free clinic in his spare time. He’s friends with the mayor and several of the council members. Everyone loves him!”
Being new here, I should probably keep my mouth shut, but that’s not my style, especially when it comes to children in danger. “Abusers are often very popular within their communities,” I say. “It’s only at home that they turn into monsters. This Doctor Adams might seem saintly in public, yet still torment his son behind closed doors. And, as a doctor, he’s in a perfect position to cover up his tracks.”
“This is ridiculous!” Laura/Lara screeches. “Listen, girl, you’ve only been around for a day, and yet you already go and accuse an honorable citizen of being some monster who abuses his son? This is Bluebell Springs, not that filthy big city you crawled out of and—”
“Laurel, that’s enough.” Director Smith doesn’t even raise her voice. Her quiet words make Laurel—oh, that’s her name!—shut right up.
Though I’m not happy about causing conflicts, I hold my ground. When Laurel glares at me, I glare right back, not backing off. I guess not everyone here likes me, after all, but I don’t give a damn. I’m not about to let a man abuse his kid just because he’s some fancy schmancy doctor and half of the town worships the ground he walks on. “I can take this case on too,” I offer.
“No,” Smith refuses. “This case is going to be delicate, and you don’t know enough about the people and the history of the town yet. Michelle will do the intake.”
Michelle’s gaze hardens as she watches little Aaron’s photo. “I always thought Adams was an arrogant prick. And with what happened to his wife…”
“You think he had something to do with that?” George cocks his brow. “That’s a stretch. I mean, all we have is an anonymous tip and a kid traumatized from losing his mother. I’m not saying Adams is a saint. Personally, I don’t like him either. But we need to stick to the facts.”
“And facts are that we have a suspicion of child abuse,” Smith says. “Which means that we will launch a case investigation, just like we would if anyone else was the suspect. Not even upstanding citizens are exempt from the law.”
I nod, grateful that she’s taking the right side. When I spoke to her during the interview rounds, she seemed a little cold and strict, but I had the feeling her heart was in the right place. I’m glad I wasn’t wrong. “If Doctor Adams is such a great man, I’m sure he’ll fully cooperate, and the investigation will be over in no time,” I note, taking a direct jab at Laurel.
She snorts. “I’m sure he will.”
“Well, then there’s no problem,” Smith concludes. “Kayla, you can shadow Michelle on this case. It will give you an opportunity to see how the town runs.” She doesn’t say it, but the implication is clear: it’s about who really runs this town.
The sweet, “hillbilly” town has just as many problems as the large cities have. Only here, the problems are hidden behind fake smiles and pretend friendships.
“Now,” Smith scowls in George’s direction, “what’s this about the drugs in high school?”
George, who’s apparently the resident specialist on high schoolers, groans. “Those kids are idiots. Seriously. Braindead. They thought it would be a hilarious prank. Carson has been staying out of trouble since he got into his new foster home, but he let the others talk him into this.”
I lean back in my chair, listening as George animatedly talks about the children planting sugar pills into someone’s backpack. Despite the argument with Laurel, I feel at peace and in my element. Helping kids is what I’m here for, what I was always meant to do. And I’m damn good at it. Just try to stop me.
Chapter 6
Ethan
I park by thecemetery and slip through the patch of trees behind Kayla’s house just in time to watch her get ready for work.
She puts on a dress, frowns, then takes it off. I’d give anything to be able to read her mind. What could she be thinking about? That the dress isn’t the right color for an overcast day? That it doesn’t match her cute sneakers? Or that it’s not the right kind of dress for her second day at work? I hope she doesn’t think she looks fat in it, because as I watch her twirl in front of her bedroom mirror, she looks fucking perfect.
Perfect to fuck.
I push the thought away. I’m not about to attack my precious little bunny. We will be together eventually. She just needs time to get to know me, to understand there’s no escape. My monster claimed her, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it now. Least of all, her.
I watch her take off the beautiful dress and settle on a different outfit, a less form-fitting one. Perhaps she’s nervous about her second day at work, and wearing pants gives her more confidence than a dress? Too bad. She looked amazing in it.
She eats a yogurt. One would think eating yogurt is a mundane thing not worth watching, but I can’t look away. She carefully scoops up a spoonful, then runs the bottom of the spoon over the edge of the cup to make sure nothing drips on her clothes. Her lips part; she maneuvers the spoon between them, then seals them tight. A muffled groan escapes me as I imagine her tongue swirling around the spoon.
She plays with her phone while she eats, which reminds me I still need to hack it. I need to know who she is texting. I fucking hope it’s not her ex, because I’m ready to drive to Kansas fucking City and cut him to pieces. I might do it anyway, to punish him for hurting her. But then again, if he hadn’t, she never would have come to Bluebell Springs and I never would have met her. For that, I reluctantly owe Nick the Asshole a debt of gratitude. He gets to live. Unless he tries to get her back.
Visions of Nick’s blood painting the walls flash through my mind. It takes everything in me to suppress them, which unnerves me more than usual.
I’m always a little unhinged after a kill, the darkness threatening to swallow me until I chase it back into a corner of my mind, but today is worse than usual. I can’t even go to my office, because I wouldn’t be able to pretend I’m a normal person. My clients would take one look at me and run away screaming, which would be bad for business. For my legal business, at any rate.
I need to pull myself together, and fast. The last round of the Bluebell Bullseye Legends is tomorrow night, and showing up there is important for my “normal guy” disguise. Besides, there’s a trophy calling my name, and I won’t let anyone else touch it.
