The Unwanted

Chapter Twelve

It hit too hard.

Monica had remembered far more than she realized, buried under a thin, tough shield that had gotten her through the awful days, the horrible nights. Destin kept that thin shield in place, determined not to damage it. If that was how Monica needed to get through this, more power to her.

But now the images were dancing through Destin’s mind.

A face…

That security guard.

It had been him.

Destin didn’t know how, didn’t know why she couldn’t get a read on him, but he was involved.

And…

Her mind fought to lock on the next face.

It was hard, though, because Monica was rebelling, resisting the connection even as Destin fought to keep it. Resisting, because Monica knew the boy. Those memories were hidden, muzzy by drugs and fear and denial… Denial because she knew him. Knew him. Liked him. Trusted him.

And that made it so much harder. So even though some part of her knew, she tucked that knowledge deep inside her and hid it away.

I’m sorry…you have to let me see him…

“Monica, hey! Now what is this…they know I like when you sit in my section…”

And that fragile shield shattered. Monica’s breath hitched, and caught.

With her shields low, Destin was completely exposed. Not just to Monica’s memories…but his.

Stupid cunt. You always got to fucking ignore me. You twitch your little ass and think I don’t see, but I do. Now I’m going to show you—

Hot, hungry need. The desire to control. The hurt. Laughter…memories of a man watching this girl. Even here…

Here, in this place where she claimed to feel safe.

Slowly, Destin looked up and focused.

He had a nice face.

That was all she could think.

He had a nice face.

And he stood there next to Monica, smiling down at her like he had every right to do so. Like he hadn’t been one of the two men to grab her, throw her down and rape her.

Monica looked a little dazed and Destin realized she hadn’t done as good a job as she’d hoped, keeping her connection apart from the girl. With a confused look on her face, Monica looked up at the guy next to the table and some of the fear, some of the memories she tried to hide from started to break free. “Hey, Cory…ah, I didn’t know you were working today.” And her voice trembled.

“I’m…” He eyed her oddly and his words trailed off as Destin rose.

His lids flickered and she felt his alarm spike. He felt so smug, secure in the knowledge that Monica might not have been completely out of it when they raped her, but she didn’t remember it…he got off it on still. Destin could feel all of that and it infuriated her.

Now he worried.

Something he saw in Monica’s eyes worried him.

But the look on Destin’s face worried him even more.

Damn, she thought sourly. I need to work on that.

He turned to walk away. Destin glanced toward the front of the restaurant and her gut clenched in icy warning.

Oz had seen it. All of it.

And this kid had no chance of keeping Oz out of his head.

The woman at the door would kill him, Destin realized.

Let her…some quiet voice whispered.

A million thoughts seemed to hurtle through her mind.

She could stay there, blind and ignorant of what would come.

It would maybe even be justice.

Maybe.

No, it wouldn’t.

Because there was more to this than just this boy. And her best chance of seeing it through was going to be through him. That all died if Oz got a hold of him.

Nausea and pain churned inside her as she realized she had a chance to do penance here. In a painful, awful way.

Five years ago, because she’d rushed things, a girl had died. Destin’s job had been to save her, and hopefully find justice, closure for the other girls who had been hurt by him.

Now she had another monster in front of her. She could let him walk to his death, and it would be sweet. Or she could move now…and let all his other victims maybe have a chance at finding justice as well.

She fell in place behind him.

Halfway to the door, he started to run.

They hit the door and he made Oz in a second, spinning away from her before she could catch him. Caleb tore off down the road after him, but when Oz went to do the same, Destin caught her boss and slammed her against the nearby brick wall.

“No,” she snapped, glaring into Oz’s pale eyes. “No. You can’t do this.”

Oz bucked against her and Destin applied more pressure. But they were of a similar height and weight, too closely matched when it came to hand-to-hand. They ended up on the ground, surrounded by a bunch of slack-jawed onlookers. They didn’t stay quiet for long and in the back of her mind, Destin knew she’d be horrified in a few minutes.

“Destin, get the fuck off,” Oz snarled, her voice caught between a sob and a moan.

“No.” She grunted as Oz caught her in the gut.

“I have to do this—”

“And go to jail? How does that help anything?”

Another low, pained sound. Closer to tears this time than anything else, Destin thought. Too close to tears.

“Back up!” Caleb shouted, his voice deep and booming, the authority in it carrying. He might as well have been shouting, “FBI! Freeze!”

At the sound of Caleb’s voice, some of the tension in Destin mounted, climbed. Had the boy gotten away?

Oz’s struggles renewed with a frenzy. Her elbow caught Destin in the cheek and as tears flooded her vision, Oz managed to get away.

Dashing the tears from her eyes, Destin shoved herself to her feet and looked around. They had a crowd, a huge one, but most of them had backed away from Caleb.

And Oz, it seemed.

Probably because Oz had her gun.

Shit.

“This,” Destin muttered, “is a clusterfuck.”

Oz’s hand shook as she stared at the boy Caleb had with him. With one hand gripping the kid’s neck, Caleb had the other hanging ready at his side.

Destin wasn’t fooled by that empty hand. He was holding back because of who he was, where he was. He still carried a badge and it mattered to him.

“Don’t, Oz,” Caleb said quietly. “The cops can sort this out. It’s why they are here.”

She laughed, a jagged, harsh sound. “And they’ve done such a beautiful job of it, haven’t they?”

“Oz…” Destin reached up and touched her boss’s shoulder. “This isn’t your way. You don’t want to do this. Not in front of your daughter. Not like this.”

“My…” She licked her lips and glanced around.

Monica took one shaky step forward. She darted a glance to the boy and that friendly, affable look was gone from his face. She flinched and went white, jerking her gaze back to Oz. “Mom…”

It was, Destin realized, about the only thing that would have gotten through to the woman.

Oz swallowed, the sound audible in the tense silence.

Then, slowly, she nodded and tucked her weapon away. “Have you called the cops?”

The kid in Caleb’s grasp jerked hard. “You can’t fucking call the cops. You can’t…”

Destin walked over to him and leaned in, dropping her voice low as she murmured, “We can. We will. We’re going to. And unless you want your dreams haunted every night for the rest of your life, you’re going to confess what you did, kid. Otherwise…”

She dropped her shields and shoved all the fear she carried inside him, watched as he sagged, screaming and crying, to the ground.

After a few seconds, she knelt beside him. “Do you understand?”