Page 182 of Marked


Font Size:

After all these years alone, of riding the roads with nothing but my motorcycle, I’d thought my life was what I wanted. Now I saw the truth. There was a deep, gaping hole in my heart that I’d tried to fill with meaningless casual sex and danger. Little did I know that the hole only needed this woman. A sassy journalist who didn’t take shit from anyone.

Cameron glanced up. “What are you looking at?”

“You,” I said, grinning.

She blushed and smiled happily before lowering her head to look at the menu again. Maybe, justmaybe, my future could be more than what I’d always thought it would be.

48

Cameron

Nate was being weird, but I liked it. The way he looked at me sent little shivers creeping up my legs. Butterflies swirled in my stomach. I couldn’t remember reacting to anyone like that. It was thrilling and scary all at the same time.

The waitress came back with our drinks and took our food orders before bustling off again. Nate’s smile had faded, and he seemed worried.

“We haven’t talked about it, but I’m still worried about that phone call from Rick,” he said, sliding his glass aside to lean his elbows on the table.

The mention of Rick put an immediate damper on the mood. Frowning, I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms.

“Yeah. It wasnotwhat I needed,” I said. “He sounded even more unhinged than before.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Nate replied. “He was already on the brink of crazy before. The fact that he’s fixated and obsessed with you doesn’t bode well for what might happennext.” He glanced around the restaurant before lowering his voice. “He could try something even worse next.”

“Worse?” I echoed, lifting an eyebrow. “Worse than sending guys to kidnap me from a convenience store, or getting a feral to bite and turn me?” I hissed under my breath.

“He may simply decide that if he can’t have you, thenno onecan.”

The words slammed into me with nuclear force. That hadn’t occurred to me. I’d assumed all Rick wanted was me as a trophy wife or mate. I never actually thought he’d want me dead, but Nate had a point. He might get desperate and jealous enough to do just that.

“You said you recorded the conversation?” Nate asked.

I nodded absently as I thought about the terrible things that might befall me.

“Send that to Ollie,” Nate said. “I don’t know if it’ll be enough to use as evidence against him, but it’ll be good that he has that. The recording might come in handy later on if there’s a trial or anything,” he added.

I pulled my phone out, attached the audio recording to a text, then sent it to Ollie with a message letting him know what it was.

“Okay, done,” I said.

“That, along with what I found last night, should help our case against them,” Nate grumbled. “Jesus, Cam, I never imagined there’d be so much of it. That right there is a direct link between the Masters, Lenny, and the drugs. Which is good. We need connections.”

The server reappeared a moment later and set our plates down. We ate in silence for a few bites before returning to the conversation.

Nate dipped a fry in ketchup. “Along with the info Anita gave us about what happened in Detroit years ago, it’s ironclad. There’s too many things pointing at Lincoln Masters for it toallbe coincidence.” He popped the fry into his mouth and chewed. “What we need is a link to drugs in Toronto,” Nate added. “Then it’ll be full circle. Once we have that connection, then the TPD will have to open an investigation. I don’t give a shit how many big names Lincoln has paid off. Evidence is evidence.”

Hearing all of that made me more determined than ever to take Lincoln and Rick down. Anger replaced my fear.

“I think some of my colleagues might have some information on things that happened in the past,” I said. “Crimes and drug busts that took place years ago. The cops might have missed some connection. Stuff that took place not long after Lincoln arrived in Toronto. Maybe we can stop atThe Chronicleon the way to the pack hearing?”

“Won’t it be difficult to pull that stuff last minute?” Nate asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

I grinned mischievously. “Usually, yeah. I may have emailed a couple folks after you left for the garage. Asked them to research some things.”

“Look at you,” Nate said with a smile. “I’m sitting here with an ace reporter.”

“Don’t be a dick,” I laughed, tossing a fry at him.

“They’ll already have pulled up the info we need?” Nate asked.