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“Detective Michales,” he responds, and I glance to Samuel, my inquisitiveness clearly written across my face. “And how long have you known Mr. Millington?”
“A couple of we?—”
“She doesn’t need to answer any of your questions,” Samuel interrupts me, ire lacing his tone. “If you want to talk to her, you can contact my attorney.”
“I’m thinking we enjoy our coffee anywhere but here.” Samuel grabs his cup and gently nudges me toward the exit. Grabbing my free hand, he begins pulling me past the detective. Even though I’m unsure of what exactly is happening, I don’t resist him.
“You might want to be more selective with the company you decided to keep.” The detective firmly grips my arm as I attempt to pass him and my hand slips from Samuel’s grasp. His grip is firm and unrelenting when I attempt to pull from him. He shoves a card into my hand as he continues, "If you want to know who he really is, call me.”
“Remove your fucking hands from her.” Samuel aggressively shoves him. The detective releases my arm, and I immediately rub over the tender spot where he gripped me as I watch the two of them square up. “You don’t ever fucking touch her. Because I’ll fucking kill you if you do it again.”
“Did you just assault and threaten an officer of the law?” The detective reaches for his hip and flips the strap of his holster off his gun.
The two of them have garnered the attention of every patron inside the small shop as well as a few onlookers from the sidewalk.
“Samuel…” My voice is soft as I timidly grab at his arm. When he doesn’t respond, I squeeze a little and repeat his name. “Samuel. We should go.”
Breaking his attention from the detective before him, he looks at me, and I gently usher him toward the exit before slipping my hand back into his.
He pushes open the door, and the detective calls after us, “I’ll be seeing you soon, Samuel. Probably you too, Cora.”
Samuel squeezes my hand firmly as he practically drags me down the street. There is no denying his anger or the distance he is attempting to put between us and the detective.
Glancing down as I struggle to keep up with his brisk pace, I read the business card tucked in between my fingers and the coffee cup.
DETECTIVE MICHALES
Homicide/Violent Crimes
What the actual fuck?
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
DETECTIVE MICHALES
Pulling a pen from my pocket, I quickly scribble down Cora’s name and a brief description of her appearance.
Cora Durant.
Early twenties, Caucasian, blonde, blue eyes, no discernible marks.
…actual relationship with SM?
Now, I just need to wait for her to turn up missing—or dead.
It’s morbid as hell, but he won’t be able to stop himself. And when she’s lying on a slab in the mortuary, he won’t be able to deny his relationship with her. At least twenty people saw the two of them together. And I did my part. I told her what kind of man she’s with. I can’t force her to leave him.
She’s going to be how I get these assholes.
Leaving the coffee shop, I head to my car parked out front. I climb in and toss Mia’s case file on the passenger seat before cutting into traffic to follow Samuel.
I’ve been tailing him nearly every moment that I’m not on the clock. Approaching him in public isn’t exactly normal procedure, but I wanted to rattle him. Needed to, in the hope that he’ll fuck up and make a mistake.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CORA
“Samuel, baby,” I continue to press as he drives us home at reckless speeds, “Please tell me what the hell is going on.”
