Chapter 3 Lacey

T hree years earlier—

"The bathroom is this way," Skel informed me, reaching for my hand to lead me in the right direction, although it wasn't hard to figure out with an open floor plan.

We walked through a spacious kitchen, cutting through the dining room to reach a hallway and the first door on the right. Skel entered and flipped on the light before he released my hand. He gestured to the sink, and I hopped up, facing him as he opened the cabinet and began digging around for supplies.

I waited while he wet a washcloth he snatched from a nearby shelf, pumping a dollop of soap onto the material before he held out his hand.

"It might sting while I wash your cuts."

I could have done it myself, but I allowed him to clean the wounds, growing more intrigued by him the longer I spent in his presence. "Thanks," I replied when he finished.

Bandages were placed over the raw skin on my wrists before he tidied up his mess. Impressed with his attention to detail, I smiled.

"You're good at this."

"I live alone." He shrugged. "If I don't do it, no one is here to help."

True. But I knew plenty of people who procrastinated. He didn't seem like the type.

"You thirsty?"

"Yes. I need to use the facilities first," I admitted, noting my urgent bladder.

"Uh, right." He walked to the door, glancing my way before he shut it.

Yes, I locked it behind him. I couldn't help it. My bladder was full, and I didn't want to defend myself while seated on a toilet.

After I washed my hands, I opened the door, following the noises he was making back to the kitchen. I didn't think he would try anything after how nice he'd been, but I read that some serial killers lulled their victims into a false sense of security before they attacked.

I felt safe with him if you didn't count the creepy skeleton mask. "Are you going to take off the mask?" I asked as I joined him, taking a seat on one of his stools that faced his direction. The breakfast bar had enough room for four people and plenty of space to entertain. Interesting. Did he have friends or women over often?

"I suppose it's a bit odd to wear it inside."

Yes, it seemed weird to insist on it.

He pulled up the mask, lifted it over his head, and tossed it onto the counter beside the stove. I watched him stirring something in a pot. Since he was cooking, I couldn't see his face yet.

"Soup. Figured you could use the broth."

How thoughtful.

"I appreciate that."

"It's no trouble." He turned off the burner, poured the soup into a bowl, and brought it to me. He added a spoon and a hunk of warm bread as he placed it down.

I blinked. "You're full of surprises."

Soft, masculine laughter shook his chest. "Maybe."

When I glanced at his face, I nearly gasped. He wasn't at all what I expected. For one, he was much older than I first realized. I thought he'd been closer to my age, but I was wrong. Light scruff covered his square jaw. A mustache and goatee in a dark brown tinted with red stood out against his tanned skin. He had expressive hazel eyes and high cheekbones. His nose was straight and the perfect size, neither too big nor too small for his features.

His head was shaven, and the rugged look, handsome face, loads of dark ink, and towering height made him pure eye candy. At least for me.

"I thought you were my age," I blurted when I noticed I had been staring far too long without saying anything.

The corners of his eyes crinkled. "I'll be forty in a few years."

"I'm a little younger than that," I joked, not wanting to admit how many years spanned between us.

"If I had to guess, I'd say you're in your early twenties."

"Twenty-two," I admitted. "But I'm mature for my age."

He winked. "I'm sure you are."

This had gotten weird fast. I felt his stare as I finished my soup. With the bowl nearly empty, I pushed it away. My body felt stiff. I slid from the stool and nearly fell over.

Skel rushed to my side. "You're weak. I bet it's just fatigue."

He was probably right. "I need to get home." I stifled a yawn. "Could I use your phone now?"

"Sure." He handed it over, unlocking the screen as he led me to a couch. I sat down, feeling far too lightheaded. I was going to pass out soon. The food and warm atmosphere let my body relax.

I wasn't looking forward to this call. My father was going to lose his shit once he knew I was okay. He answered the number after only one ring, even though it wasn't someone he knew. "Dad?"

"Lacey! Where the hell have you been? I've been calling your phone for hours. Whose number is this?"

"I'm okay. I promise. It's a long story."

"Are you hurt? Do you need help?" He sounded frantic.

"Dad. I'm fine. A friend is bringing me home."

"What happened?"

"I think I should tell you in person."

He sucked in a breath. "Did some asshole force himself on you?"

"No. Not like you're implying."

"I don't like the sound of that, Lace."

"We'll talk about it once I'm home. I promise."

"How far away are you? I can pick you up or send Larry."

Larry was our driver. He chauffeured my dad everywhere.

"I've got a ride. See you soon. And Dad?"

"Yeah, honey?"

"I love you."

"Lacey, you're scaring me. Where are you?"

"Close. I'll see you in twenty minutes."

"I'm not moving from this door until I see you."

"Okay. Bye, Dad."

He grunted, not wanting to hang up. I ended the call.

"Thanks." I held out the cell, and Skel pocketed it.

"You ready, Lacey?"

I nodded but closed my eyes.

"Honey, you just called your father. If he doesn't see you in twenty minutes, he's gonna send out a search party."

I blinked as Skel sat beside me. "How did you know that?"

"It's what I would do."

That didn't surprise me at all.

"I'm really tired," I complained. "What if I close my eyes for just five minutes?"

"No, Sweet Girl. We need to leave. And I don't think it's safe for you to ride my bike. I've got a truck. We'll use that. Come on."

I didn't move.

"Lacey." He shook his head. "I'll carry you then."

I didn't protest as he picked me up, scooping under my legs. My head rested on his shoulder as I snuggled into his body. "You're nice and warm."

"It's a bit concerning how fast and easy you trust me," he murmured.

"I already saw evil tonight, Skel. I think I'd know if I ran across it again."

He squeezed me once and headed toward the garage. "That actually made sense."

WHEN WE ARRIVED AT my building, I was glad Skel wasn't wearing his mask. It would have freaked out my dad. Not to mention the motorcycle. Skel had pulled on his sweatshirt after I removed it as we parked by the entrance. His appearance wasn't near as intimidating now.

My father didn't exaggerate. He stood by the security guard and waited for me to enter the building, frowning at Skel. "Who the hell are you?"

"Her ride home."

"He's also the guy who saved me, Dad. Be nice." I walked into his open arms, hugging my father tight.

"Saved you from who?"

"The guys who kidnapped me." I already knew how this would sound to my dad and Skel. Judging by their twin scowls, I knew both men were concerned.

"You forgot to mention that part," Skel huffed, "but now I know why you were out in that cemetery."

My father gripped my shoulders as I stepped back. "And you're not hurt? They didn't do anything to you?"

I shook my head. "No. They tied me up and dropped me at the cemetery. I think it was a warning."

"Who did this?" Skel asked.

"Not here," I whispered, uncomfortable with the security guard and James listening in. I wanted to talk about this to my father without an audience.

"Let's go up." My dad guided me toward the elevator that led to our penthouse.

"Sir," Skel began. "I'd like to be a part of this conversation."

Dad raised an eyebrow, asking what I thought.

I nodded. "He might be able to help."

"What's your name?"

"Bran."

Bran? I thought it was Skel. How many names did he have?

"Well, Bran, I want to know more about how you helped my daughter. Join us."

It wasn't a question. More like an order.

Skel stepped onto the elevator, and the doors closed. When we arrived on our floor, Dad helped me down the hall, unlocking our door before stepping inside.

I moved to the couch, curling up with one of my favorite blankets. Several of the softest materials were kept in the ottoman. I snatched one out and covered up, resting my head against the back of the cushion. "I feel like I could sleep for weeks."

"Not until you tell me what happened," my father announced. "Who took you?" He sat on the edge of the couch, tensing as he awaited my answer.

"He said his name was Luis Diego. That you would know his name," I added. "He said you owe him a debt, and he'll come to collect if you don't follow through." I swallowed, terrified of what that meant.

"Fuck." Skel sat down beside me. "I don't think he's fucking around."

"I know that," my father spat. "I've been on the circuit for twenty years and sent more scumbags to prison than you could count. Luis Diego is just another criminal with a god complex. He thinks he can force my hand."

Force his hand? "What does that mean?" I already knew this had something to do with one of my father's cases. I just didn't know how dangerous Luis Diego was or if he'd make good on his threat.

"There's a murder trial on the docket for next week. I'm guessing he's asking me to be lenient since the defendant also shares the same last name."

Shit. "Dad. I think you should take this seriously."

"I already am." His sharp gaze focused on me. "The police are on the way to his residence now."

I paled. "Is there enough evidence to bring him in?"

My father clenched his phone hard enough for it to crack. "Luis kidnapped and threatened you. He threatened a judge. He won't be walking out of that jail anytime soon."

Relieved, I nodded. "Okay."

Skel didn't seem appeased by that answer. "I could help."

My father shot him a doubtful look. "I don't know who you are or why you helped my daughter. I'm thankful for your assistance, but your services are no longer needed."

I sighed. When my father got like this, reasoning with him was almost impossible. "How can you help, uh, Bran?"

Skel's lips twitched. He seemed pleased that I picked up on his real name, which meant Skel was an alias or nickname. "I run a private investigation business. I'm good at finding secrets."

Wow. He was a P.I.? Interesting.

"I already have the best tech experts on the city payroll working on this case. They're digging into Juan Diego's financials and background. I've added Luis to the list after tonight."

"But it wouldn't hurt to have a P.I. helping us, right? What if he can find things your connections can't?" I asked, hoping to convince my father to hire Skel.

"Perhaps," Dad agreed. "Do you have a card?"

Skel reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Reaching inside, he removed a card and presented it to my father. "Shadow Investigative Solutions. I'm currently taking on new clients." He glanced my way and winked.

"Consider yourself hired on a probationary basis. Provide something useful, and I'll hire you on a more permanent basis."

"I appreciate that, Judge Maxwell."

My eyes closed. Exhaustion left me weak and unable to stay awake. "Goodnight," I whispered, already drifting asleep.

"Night, Sweet Girl."

I heard him leave and wondered how long it would be before I saw Skel again.