Wild Ways (16 page)

“Strip clubs in Chicago,” Julian said thoughtfully. “I wonder how many of them there are. We can probably rule out the nicer ones.”

“Are there actually nice strip clubs?”

He chuckled. “Sure. The team went to one overseas that required a suit and tie. We didn’t get in.” He didn’t look terribly disappointed.

“There was another poster on the bulletin board.” She showed him on her phone. “A different girl than the ones we saw at the Inn.”

He studied the picture. “She disappeared around the same time, though. There’s definitely a pattern.”

“Like a serial killer?”

“Could be. I want to pin it on the Kings, but we have to keep an open mind. Let’s grab a bite and update Chase.”

* * *

Julian definitely liked the outdoors. He zeroed in on one of those off-the-side-of-the-road “restaurants” that was little more than a trailer with a smattering of umbrella-covered picnic tables. Beyond it the woods reminded her of the peace she’d felt at the Devil’s Inn.

This venue was called Hot Dog Louie’s, boasting every regional specialty of hot dog. As Julian wolfed down a deep-fried dog smothered in chili and cheese, he laid out a wrinkled map and noted where they knew the Kings had a chapter. Then he put stars where each of the three girls had gone missing.

His second dog was completely different, on a poppy seed–covered bun with tomato slices and hot peppers. His third, yet another variation, was smothered in coleslaw. Apparently he liked to make noise when he ate, too, emitting soft groans of pleasure that reminded her of the night before. Reminded her too much, apparently, as she felt an odd blip of pleasure between her legs. She forced her attention to her own single, ketchup-lined hot dog.

He finished the last of his dog, licked his fingers, and wiped his hands on a napkin. “Three girls disappear on the route between the two known chapters. I’m liking them for it.”

“This is getting worse. You think they’re kidnapping women to put to work in their clubs?”

“They may not be kidnapping them. Like with your sister, these women are probably looking for something. Like that biker chick said, they need to belong. It’s a strong urge. At heart, we’re pack animals. We need camaraderie, connection.”
Sexual intimacy
. Somehow she heard that as clearly as though he’d said it.

“Not me. I think sometimes you shut that part down.” But his fingers on her, his body wrapped around her all night …

“You need to help people. That’s your way of connecting.”

She knew there was no point in denying it, even though she was annoyed at how bluntly he’d pointed it out. “I guess it fulfills something in me. It makes me feel valuable,
like she said.”

He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, drawing his finger slowly down her skin. “You don’t need to save anyone to be valuable,
mami
. You are enough just as you are.”

She fought not to melt into him at those words, spoken so genuinely. She moved back, afraid she’d lean closer. “I guess I’ll owe you for the psychotherapy, too.”

“ ‘Too?’ ”

“I am going to pay you back for everything you’ve spent.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I do.” She stood, needing to put more distance between them. She would pay him back every dime he’d spent when she got back to her life and found another job. The prospect of that seemed like a distant dream.

He shook his head slowly, as though he couldn’t figure her out. Though it sure seemed that he’d figured her out too much. “You’re only comfortable if you’re the one doing the rescuing.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Rescuing me?”

“I’m helping you find your sister. But honestly, you drew me from that first minute I saw you at the gas station. Before I knew a thing about you.”

“Ah, the white knight complex. Now I can analyze you.”

He seemed to consider that, but shook his head. “I’ve watched that dynamic in my family all my life. There are certain members who are constantly in need of rescue and others who are constantly trying to rescue them. My grandfather helped to set me straight when I started to fall into that pattern with my girlfriend. He pulled me aside and talk sense into me.”

“Susana?”

“Yeah. She started using coke when her parents divorced. I probably tried all the things you did with your sister, controlling her, looking through her purse. I felt like a damned cop. My
abuelo
sat me down in my despair and told me that sometimes you have to let go, or else you’ll drown.” His mouth turned down into a frown. “I miss having him
around to consult. He passed on a couple of years ago. Sometimes he was my island in a sea of insanity.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, knowing those words were of little consolation.

“He was a big believer in stepping back and letting people stew in their mistakes, because that was the only way they would ever learn from them. Hitting bottom can be the catalyst for a person changing their life. He was always telling me, ‘You can’t control other people’s behavior, beliefs, or perceptions. All you can control is your own.’ ”

“What do you think he’d say about me? Run the other way? Another drowning victim, boy.”

Julian regarded her for a few moments. “Are you drowning?”

His question sank down to her bones. “Weren’t you going to update Chase? If we leave soon, we can be in Chicago by nightfall, I imagine.”

He gave her a look that indicated he knew she was changing the subject but mercifully let it go. She
was
drowning, but some of that had to do with her growing feelings for him.

He extracted his phone, pinching the bridge of his nose as he filled Chase in. Dead ends. Missing witnesses. It was nothing new in Mollie’s journey. Julian had to be as frustrated as she was. But he didn’t have a personal stake in this. He could disengage, head on his way, and forget all about it. She almost wished he would drop the other shoe already.

I know I’m putting up walls, but there’s a good reason. He will leave, sooner or later. I can’t let myself depend on him
.

Or fall for him.

As crazy as it sounded, as far from her mind as that should be, a part of her was falling for the sexy Latino. Not only his physique, his strength, and his skills. His kind heart and tenderness called to that place she had buried deep inside her.

“I contacted an FBI friend about the missing women,” Chase said on the speaker. “He pulled some data and found a disturbing pattern. For the last three years, six to eight women have been reported missing along the route from Oklahoma City to Chicago
between April through July. The authorities haven’t officially put it together because the disappearances are spread over several states. Since the missing are troubled adults who left voluntarily, there were no actionable crimes to investigate. Three years ago, in early August, two women’s bodies were found in a wooded area two hours from Chicago. Both were last seen hitchhiking, and one was spotted in the company of a bike club, but the witness couldn’t—or wouldn’t—recall which one. Last August another woman’s body was recovered from Lake Michigan.”

Julian ran his finger along the route they’d been taking. “It looks like someone is collecting women.”

Mollie sank down to the bench, suddenly feeling cold despite the warm day. “For strip clubs, maybe.”

Julian said, “It doesn’t make sense for a strip joint to brutalize and kill their dancers. They’d have to constantly recruit more.”

“But it’s not constant,” Mollie reminded him. “There seems to be a big push during the early summer months. Then some of the women end up dead by August. And those are the ones that were found.”

“The police weren’t able to find out much about how they died due to decomposition,” Chase said. “They believe they’d been cut and beaten. Probably raped.”

Julian and Mollie sat in the silence of that for a moment. She tried to hold on to hope. “But Di wasn’t a woman running away from her life. She left to be with Brick.” Mollie’s sense of relief dissipated fast. “But now she’s unclaimed. The ol’ lady I spoke with was afraid of being sent to Chicago. So they obviously do use the women in their clubs for whatever it is that they’re doing. And it’s going to happen soon.”

Julian reached out with his leg and pressed it against hers, a totally nonthreatening way to comfort her. “Chase, can you use that resource genie you’ve obviously got to dig up all the strip clubs in Chicago, especially any owned by known members of the Kings?”

“Will get right on it. I assume you’re heading to Chicago.”

“You got it.” Julian stood, scooped up all the wrappers, and dumped them into the
garbage can. “I’m going to call Rath to come up, too.”

“Good,” Chase said. “I was going to suggest that. I’ll be in touch soon.”

She stared at a faint path leading into the woods. She felt an urge to run, just run into those woods and never come back. As eager as she was to see her sister, the fear of finding her in a drugged-out state writhing against a pole terrified her. The fear of her sister wanting to stay there, even more so. And the fear of not finding her at all …

She stood, like a robot, and walked into the woods. The sun reached down through the leaves, dappling the ground. The smell of the earth filled her nose, and she breathed it deep. Here, she was free. In nature, where things were so simple. Branches cracked beneath her shoes as she stepped off the path, seeing nothing but more trees all around. She heard footsteps behind her. Julian, who would, of course, not let her wander away alone.

Yes, her white knight. For now.

She came to a stop, restraining herself from turning around to explain her impulsive foray into the woods. He came up behind her, the front of his body easing up against her back, his arms wrapping around her like a shield. There was nothing sexual about his holding her. She could feel no evidence that he had any intentions of turning this into more. But she wanted more. Her body tingled with the wanting, memories of the night before still thrumming through her. Everywhere he touched heated her. She leaned her head back against his chest.

“I want …” She hadn’t meant to speak it. The want, the need, had come out on its own.

“What, Mollie? I’ll give you whatever you want,” he said in a soft, low voice near her ear. “Anything. All you have to do is ask.”

That offer felt like warm honey washing over her soul. Anything. He would give her anything. She closed her eyes and leaned completely against him.

“I want you to touch me.”

His body came alive with those words, hardening against her back. “Tell me exactly,
querida
.” He moved his hand lower, sliding between her breasts, stopping on her
lower stomach. “Here?”

“I want …” No, he wouldn’t make this easy, would he? There was nothing soft or easy about him, physically or otherwise. “I want to feel like I did last night.”

He unzipped her pants and pushed them down to her hips. His fingers dipped over her panties, a slow caress. No man had ever touched her the way he did, soft and slow as though they had all the time in the world. No man had ever touched her inside like he did either.

What was she doing? This was crazy, this carnal need.
It’s not carnal, not wholly
, a voice whispered in her mind.
It’s much more than that
.

“What if someone comes down the path?” she asked, trying to pull herself out of this sensual fugue state.

“The only one coming will be you. Get out of your head,” he whispered. “Open yourself to the experience.”

Opening herself went against everything she held on to. Her protection. Self-preservation. But she had asked for this. And she would take it. She spread her legs, which also helped stabilize her since her legs were all jelly-ish. His fingers slid beneath the top edge of her panties and explored her intimate folds. She was already wet for him, slippery and aching for more of his touch. His other hand slid under her shirt and caressed her breasts through the thin fabric of her bra. She reached up and dragged her fingers through his hair, arching into his touch by the very motion.

“I want to hear how good it is, Mollie,” he coaxed, pushing up her bra.

Talk? She could barely breathe. He was pushing her to express herself. He could have just touched her body, gotten her off, and be done with it. But no, he wanted to touch her soul.

His hand covered one breast, squeezing. His thumb and finger gently pinched her nipple. She released the moan she’d been holding back, punctuated by her heaving breaths. His erection was full and hard on her lower back, and she rubbed against him. That made him elicit a soft growl, and he ground back and nibbled at her neck. The thought of him inside her, that hard length of him thrusting, sent her over the edge. She
was washed away by pleasure, clenching her fingers in his hair. He was still touching, stroking, but she wanted more.

She turned and kissed him. “Devoured” would be a better term, hungrily, wantonly. She unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped them, and pushed both them and his briefs down to his hips. Her fingers wrapped around him, hot and slick at the tip. He groaned into her mouth, diving into an even deeper kiss.

“I want you … inside me,” she said between kisses. She kicked off her shoes and toed off her socks as they continued to devour each other.

“Oh,
querida
, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

He pushed her pants all the way down, and she stepped out of them. He hoisted her legs up, and she wrapped them around his waist. She pulled off his shirt, which was a bit of a feat since he was holding her. But she wanted to see him, feel him. She felt the trunk of a tree press up against her back. He reached into his back pocket and extracted a condom. One-handed, he tore it open with his teeth and rolled it down over his cock, then, holding her hips, pressed the tip against her opening.

He kissed her as he eased in, filling her, stretching her. She had never felt this way the first time she’d been with someone. Being with Julian was so easy, so right.
Be easy with me
. His earlier request, when they’d acted like a couple who’d been having sex … a hundred different ways. As he slowly thrust in and out, she whispered, “You are so easy to be with.”