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19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

RICHARD

I can’t stop staring at Izel. She’s all dolled up, looking like a sight to drool over in that dress. I curse myself silently for setting up this fancy restaurant date. I could’ve just stayed home with her, making it a night to remember. It’s like the devil’s playing with my conscience.

The restaurant is all fancy and shit, but there’s a part of me that wishes we were somewhere more...private. I want her all to myself, no distractions, no fancy plates, just her and me. I curse myself again for not making that happen.

We sit down at our table, and she orders something that sounds delicious, but honestly, I couldn’t care less about the menu. I’m just content watching her. Izel catches my gaze and smirks, and damn, it’s like she can read my mind.

I know I can’t just jump across the table and take her right there, no matter how much I want to. So, I do the next best thing—I start a conversation.

“So, tell me about your childhood,” I say, leaning back in my chair.

She raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by my sudden interest. “My childhood? That’s a broad topic.”

I chuckle. “Alright, how about this—tell me about your best friend growing up. Who was she?”

“Sally,” Izel replies, a fond smile playing on her lips. “We were inseparable. She was my rock when things got tough.”

“And things got tough?” I probe, genuinely curious.

“Yeah, they did,” she says. “I didn’t have much to look up to. I studied with what limited resources I had. She always pushed me to be better, even when things seemed impossible.”

Limited resources? That raises a red flag. Izel went to a top-notch high school, the kind of place where ‘limited resources’ usually meant the Wi-Fi was slow. But I decide to let it slide. I can’t turn every conversation into an interrogation.

If I want any shot at something real with her, I have to back off from being so invasive. So far, there’s no concrete evidence linking her to the Striker’s case. From now on, I need to bury my instincts and focus on getting to know the real Izel Montclair. Because, truth be told, she’s starting to grow on me in ways I never anticipated. The more time I spend with her, the more I realize that I’m not just drawn to her because of the case.

“Sounds like she was a great friend,” I say, steering the conversation to safer waters. “Do you still keep in touch?”

“No,” she says, her tone final. “And I’d like to keep it that way.”

I nod in understanding. Someday, I’d like to know what happened between her and Sally. But something tells me today is not that day.

The waiter arrives with our food, placing the dishes in front of us. Izel’s eyes light up at the sight of her meal, and a soft smile spreads across my face. She always seems happiest with good food in front of her.

“So,” I say, changing the subject as we start to eat. “What’s the one thing you want to do for the rest of your life?”

I glance at the envelope in my jacket pocket, wondering if this is a mistake. I’m expecting her to say something fancy, maybe about traveling to exotic locations or running some high-powered business. But her answer surprises me.

“I want to be under the sun,” she says. “Feel the warmth on my skin, the sand between my toes. I want to be by the water, hear the waves crashing. I want to feel the breeze in my hair, watch the sunset without a care in the world.”

She pauses, taking a bite of her food, and I can see the genuine longing in her eyes.

“I want to wake up to the sound of birds, not alarms,” she continues. “To walk barefoot on the grass, to swim in clear, blue water. I want to feel the rain on my face, the wind at my back. To lie under the stars at night, without city lights drowning them out. To feel alive, connected to the earth, to nature.”

Her words paint a vivid picture, and for a moment, I can see it too. The simplicity, the beauty of it all.

“That sounds...perfect,” I say, and I mean it. It’s not the answer I expected, but it’s more real, more Izel, than anything I could have imagined.

“It does, doesn’t it?” she says, smiling. “Life gets so complicated. Sometimes I just want to strip it all away and get back to the basics.”

We eat in companionable silence for a few minutes. It’s hard not to notice how different we are.. I’ve always been driven by ambition, by the need to achieve and succeed. But Izel...she just wants to be free.

“What about you?” she asks, breaking the silence. “What’s the one thing you want to do for the rest of your life?”

I laugh. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve spent so much time chasing after the next goal, the next big thing, that I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Maybe you should,” she says, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Maybe you need to figure out what makes you happy.”

“Maybe I do,” I admit, feeling a strange sense of calm settle over me. “Maybe I need to take a page out of your book and find my own piece of paradise.”

“You should,” she says with a grin. “There’s a whole world out there, Richard. Don’t let it pass you by.”

“You’re right,” I say, reaching into my jacket pocket. “Maybe it’s time I start figuring out what makes me happy.” I pull out two tickets and slide them across the table to her.

“Happy birthday, Izel.”

She looks down at the tickets. “Costa del Sol? You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” I reply, leaning back in my chair, feeling pretty pleased with myself. “I thought we could use a break. Some sun, some sand, and a whole lot of relaxation.”

Izel’s eyes light up with excitement, but there’s also a hint of something else—maybe relief, maybe appreciation. “Richard, I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” I tell her. “Just pack your bags and be ready to leave as soon as this case is wrapped up. The tickets don’t have a date on them, so we can go whenever we want.”

She looks at me with genuine surprise in her eyes. “Thank you. I really didn’t expect this.”

I have no idea why I picked Costa del Sol. Maybe I was hoping she’d reject it, and that would push me back into the safe, professional distance I needed. But seeing her reaction, I realize I’d made the right call, even if it was by accident. She’s happy, and it’s making it harder for me to focus on anything but her.

Last night, I came so close to telling her how I felt. It’s insane, and it’s only getting stronger by the second. I don’t care if she’s involved in all this mess, if she’s an accomplice, or if she’s just playing me. Every rational thought I have about this case is being overshadowed by how much I want to be with her.

We’re still at the restaurant, the night’s been full of surprises, and I decide to make a nice gesture. I appreciate the food and call out for the waiter, saying, “Hey, my girlfriend here really enjoyed the food. Would it be cool if she could give a shoutout to the owner?”

The owner comes over, and he looks slightly puzzled as he glances at Izel. “Sure, we always love to hear from satisfied customers,” he says.

Izel’s smile is radiant as she thanks the owner. “The food was amazing, thank you so much!”

The owner’s face seems to twitch with surprise as he looks at Izel. “Do I know you?” he asks, his eyes narrowing in thought.

Izel, a little puzzled herself, shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”

The owner furrows his brow, leaning in a little closer. “You’re sure we’ve never met before? You look awfully familiar.”

Izel’s still confused but stands her ground. “I’m pretty sure we haven’t.”

At this point, I’m getting a bit creeped out by the owner’s intense scrutiny. So, I clear my throat and decide to intervene.

“You know,” I say with a chuckle, “Izel here has one of those faces. She’s got that ‘I’ve seen her before’ kind of vibe. You know how it is, right?”

The owner’s eyes dart between Izel and me, and he seems to get a little nervous. He lets out a nervous laugh and turns back to Izel.

“Well, I’m sorry. You just look strikingly similar to someone I knew a long time ago. It’s uncanny, really.”

“No problem at all. I get that a lot.”

We exchange a few more words with the owner, and he leaves us to enjoy the rest of our evening. But there’s something odd about the whole encounter. Izel’s pretty distinctive, sure, but that reaction from the owner was just... strange.

We’re wrapping up our night at the restaurant. Just as we’re about to leave, the owner gives me a look. It’s that look I’ve seen countless times in my line of work – the look of someone who’s got something they need to share. He glances back at me, and it’s like a silent invitation to step into the shadows of secrecy.

Izel’s beside me, but I can’t ignore that look. I turn to her, smile, and say, “Hey, babe, I just realized I forgot my keys inside. Be right back, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”

“Of course, go do your thing.”

I head back inside the restaurant. The owner’s waiting for me, and he leads me to a more secluded area, away from prying eyes and ears.

“What’s up?” I ask, keeping it low-key.

“Sir, my name is David. I need to tell you something. Your girlfriend, Izel, she’s the daughter of a girl I was friends with. Her mother’s name was Ava.”

I nod, a little taken aback. “Yeah, I know about Ava. She was part of the Montclair family.”

“You see, Ava and I were close friends. Her boyfriend, Will, was possessive and controlling. Ava wanted out, but Will wouldn’t let her go. He was a fucking psycho. He would stalk her, show up at her house unannounced, and keep tabs on her every move. She was terrified. She confided in me. She said she couldn’t take it anymore. She was going to leave him, no matter what. But before she could, she disappeared.”

“So, you’re saying Will had a hand in her disappearance?”

David’s face hardens. “More than a hand. I believe he murdered her. I’ve tried to tell the Hollowbrook PD about this. I’ve gone to them multiple times, but they brushed me off. Ava’s father, he wrapped it up. He was more concerned about his reputation. Ava had slept with Will, and for him, it was better if Ava hadn’t been found at all. He didn’t want the scandal.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because you need to know that Will is out there somewhere. I’m worried about Izel’s safety. If he had a hand in Ava’s disappearance, who’s to say he won’t do something to Izel?”

The idea of Izel being in danger, of someone thinking they can harm her and get away with it, makes my blood boil. I’ll kill him before he even gets the chance. If Will so much as breathes in Izel’s direction, I’ll make sure he regrets ever being born. I’ll hunt him down, bury him so deep that no one will ever find his body.

“Where is Will now?”

“Nobody knows. The bastard fled town and hasn’t been heard from since. He just disappeared like the coward he is.”

“We’ll get to the bottom of this. I won’t let Will get away with it.”

“Thank you, Sir. Ava’s memory deserves justice.”

I give him a firm nod, and he turns to leave. As he walks further inside, I take a deep breath, working to process everything he just told me. When I step outside, I see Izel leaning against the car, talking on her phone. The minute her eyes catch mine, she abruptly shuts her phone and gives me a nervous smile from a distance.

I start walking in her direction. Is this how it’s going to be now? Always doubting her? I need to solve this case because I can’t live like this, constantly second-guessing her.

“Sorry you had to wait.”

She shrugs, flashing a smile. “It’s all good.”

I smile back. I start the car, and we’re on our way back home, and Izel seems to be in a playful mood. Her legs are crossed, exposing more of her smooth thighs. She’s playing with the strap of her heels, and the subtle tease in her movement doesn’t escape me. She knows exactly what she’s doing, she’s toying with my self-control.

I can’t help but smirk, but I keep my cool, focusing on the road. She glances at me with that sly look in her eyes and starts moving her hand up my thigh. I take a deep breath, well aware of where this is headed. This woman’s touch is like a match to a powder keg, and my cock eagerly responds, going from zero to a hundred in a heartbeat. It’s impressive how effortlessly she can get me hard.

I give her a side-eye as she inches her hand higher up my thigh. “You know,” I tease, “the punishment for public indecency can be up to a year in prison.”

She meets my gaze with that devilish sparkle in her eye. “Are you threatening to arrest me?”

“Baby, I’m threatening to punish you.”

She boldly unbuckles my belt, and I can feel her fingers working their magic. I savor the slow and deliberate process as she frees my cock from its confinement. She’s confident and I’m loving every moment.

Her warm hand wraps around my throbbing cock. She doesn’t just hold me—no, she lets her fingertips trace every inch, dragging along the thick veins, making me feel every agonizing stroke. I’m losing control here, feeling her hands explore me, like she’s taking her time to memorize every part. She leans in, her breath tickling my ear as she whispers, “I think I can handle that.”

As we speed down the road, Izel’s lips meet my neck, leaving a scorching kiss. She bites me gently, it’s not painful, but it does make my cock harder. I thank every star in the sky that my windows are tinted out because I sure as hell don’t want this to stop.

Izel’s stroking my cock and she’s been teasing me all along, and I can’t take it anymore. She’s a potent combination of seduction and restraint, and it’s driving me to the brink of insanity.

I decide to take control. With one hand still on the wheel, I reach over and deftly unlock her seatbelt. She leans closer, and I seize the opportunity, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her face toward mine. Our eyes lock, and the unspoken understanding is crystal clear—we’re about to cross into uncharted territory.

Izel smirks, her voice sultry as she whispers, “So, Agent Reynolds, what’s the punishment for being a bad girl?”

“Guess we’re about to find out.” I seize her harder by the hair and pull her head down, directly onto my cock.

My control slips further as desire courses through my veins like fire, and Izel’s sultry whispers linger in the air. I want her to feel every bit of the way she shatters me, how she’s made a mess of my control, and how I wouldn’t dare take back a single moment. I want to drink in every detail, every quiet sound, every breath that hangs between us, because this is more than desire—it’s devotion, it’s reverence, it’s knowing that I could spend a lifetime in this exact moment and never grow tired.

The world outside blurs into nothing as Izel's warm, wet mouth slides over my cock. She traces a thick vein with her tongue, dragging it along the length of my cock, so painfully slow I could swear she’s doing it just to torture me.

She takes her time, teasing the sensitive underside, before her hand slips down to cup my balls, rolling them gently in her palm and then I feel her stretch a single finger out, scraping her nail lightly over the sensitive skin behind them, and I can't help the groan that rips out of me.

Her confidence grows, and her fingers circle the base of my cock, pressing down with just the right amount of force. My focus fractures, slipping from the road as she squeezes. The car jerks to the side, just for a second, enough to send my pulse skyrocketing.

Izel’s movements are no longer her own; I’ve taken command. Her eyes flick up to meet mine, and through the tears that gather from her gagging on my cock. It’s a sight that drives me to go even deeper, to take her to the very edge of pleasure and pain.

She gags and moans, the sound vibrating through me, and it’s all I can do to keep the car on the road. Drool gathers on my cock, and her flushed, desperate gaze fuels my need to dominate her. She’s a vision of raw desire, a willing captive to my insatiable hunger.

“Fuck, baby,” I growl, “you’re taking me so damn well.”

Her response is a throaty moan, and she eagerly meets my every thrust. Her hands grasp at my thighs, and it only adds to the erotic intensity of the moment.

The road stretches on endlessly and my grip on her hair tightens. I can’t get enough of her. As I pull her up for a moment, a string of drool hangs from my cock, connecting us for a split second. It glistens in the dim car, like a perverse work of art, before gravity takes hold, and it splatters down onto her tits and cleavage.

Her eyes are teary, and the makeup she had carefully applied is now smudged and ruined. But I’m not done yet. I reach down, scooping up some of that drool from her cleavage with my fingers and smear it all over her flushed cheeks. Her makeup is now a mess, and she’s a sight to behold, a vision of absolute debauchery.

I grab a fistful of her hair, pulling her head down even harder onto my cock. She moans and gags, and it only drives me wild. I’m in control, and I intend to take what I want.

“Such a fucking dirty girl, aren’t you?” I growl. “Letting me ruin that pretty face of yours.”

A soft, muffled sound escapes her, somewhere between a moan and a growl, as she steadies herself and digs her nails into my thighs. Her hands slide up my legs, fingertips pressing hard enough to leave marks as she sets a relentless rhythm, as if daring me to hold back.

“I bet your slutty little mouth waters for my cum, doesn’t it?” I taunt, my grip on her hair tightening. “I’m going to face-fuck you like the dirty whore you are until I paint your tongue with my seed.”

Her moans become more urgent, and I can tell she’s on the edge, just like me.

The climax is almost unbearable, and as I reach the point of no return, Izel’s mouth becomes my salvation. I come undone, and every bit of me surges into her mouth. She doesn’t hesitate for a moment; she swallows every drop.

But I’m not done. I pull the car over to the side of the road, urgency and lust driving me to new heights. I reach down, no longer able to wait, I grab her by the neck, using the force to make her open her mouth. I spit into it before claiming her lips in a fierce kiss. I hold her like she’s fragile, but kiss her like I’m unafraid to shatter her, because in breaking, she’d belong to me even more.

I yank down the straps of her dress, exposing her creamy skin. I seize one of her tits, twisting and pulling her nipple with a rough, demanding grip. She moans and arches her back. Her skin reddens under my touch as I slap her tit hard, the sound of the impact filling the car.

I’m about to take things further, but then my phone rings. The jarring sound cuts through the thick haze of passion, and Izel mumbles for me to ignore it between our feverish kisses. But I know better, every call in my line of work is important, and there’s no escaping it.

“Reynolds.”

“Luna is missing,” Noah’s voice is tense, strained, and filled with concern. “We can’t reach her, Rick.”

“I’ll be at the bureau.”

“Is everything okay?” Izel asks softly.

“Luna’s missing,” I admit. “I had an argument with her earlier. I was going to apologize, but now... I don’t know.”

Izel listens and it’s clear that she understands the complexity of the situation. I’m grateful for her support, but the thought of leaving her alone at my place keeps nagging at me.

“Will you be okay by yourself?”

Izel offers a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine. Go do what you need to do. Luna needs you.”

I nod in appreciation. I drop her off at my place, and as she steps out of the car, I give her a lingering kiss.

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