Finding Fate (Playing it Safe Series Book 1) Page 9

  The only way I can force myself to go home is to work ridiculous hours, until I’m so tired I don’t have any choice but to fall asleep when I get there.

  I moved to Nashville a few months ago, when Jonathon and his brother Grant offered me this job. It was time for a change. I didn’t mind my job back home, or the long hours I put in with the police department. It was the hours I wasn’t working that became impossible to stand.

  Jon and Grant started a security agency a few years back. In the beginning, they did small jobs, providing bodyguard services, and some private investigating jobs, but it wasn’t long until their experience and their talent had them being pulled in by the government to assist with some cases. Most of the cases involve rescuing women and young girls from illegal sex rings and human traffickers.

  Everyone at Masters is former military. We’ve all been trained to slip in and get the job done quietly. Grant has had to go undercover and stay completely off the grid, for months at a time.

  Masters Security was brought in to assist with a big case in my hometown. That’s how I met Jon and Grant. After working alongside them, we became close friends. When Grant and a few of his men got the women out safely, I did my job and rounded up the assholes responsible for everything.

  After the drug dealer and his sex ring were shut down and brought to justice, Jon offered me a position with the agency.

  My personal life is anything but pleasant these days, and since both of my parents have passed away, after some thought I decided to accept their offer. About three months ago, I packed up everything and drove a rented moving truck from Durham to Nashville.

  “I’ll mind my business for now, but you need to get your shit straightened out, man. Having you here while you drag your tired ass around because you refuse to go home and rest is starting to affect your work. It affects everybody’s work, because we’re sick of watching it.”

  “Fuck off, Jon. Not everyone can have the perfect job, and the perfect life like you.”

  “Get out of here, Beck. Go home and get some rest, and don’t forget to read through the file. This is a big case that needs to be taken care of quickly. I need your experience on this one. We’ll need to talk to a few people and do our own investigating, so we can determine what, and who, we’re going to be dealing with here.”

  “I’m going to head out. I need to jot down a couple of addresses. I’m going to go check on a few things for another case I’ve been working on before I come in tomorrow.”

  I ignore Jon because we’re done here, since he wants to dig around in my personal life.

  After I get the addresses I need, I put the thick folder in my briefcase. Knowing we’ve said everything that needs to be said, I let myself out the door.

  When I get home it’s after nine o’clock.

  I try to stay quiet as I slip through the house to get to my office. I set my briefcase down on my desk and shed my jacket. The tie around my neck follows. After I release the buttons and roll my sleeves up, I take off my holster and lock it up.

  I go to the liquor cabinet and take out a bottle of vodka. A part of me wants to indulge and drink the whole damn bottle, but I know turning to alcohol isn’t going to make the problems disappear, so I drink just enough to where I start to feel the buzz.

  I fire up my computer to check a few emails. I send out a quick reply to a few before I’ve had enough, and decide to take a quick shower so I can fall into bed. I need sleep.

  On the way down the hall, I stop in front of the closed door to the room beside the one where I sleep.

  As usual, Kaitlyn is locked away in her office.

  She’s working. She always says she’s working on something. She keeps her office locked with a key so she’s the only one who can get in. I can’t remember the last time when she allowed me into her private space.

  She started out as a graphics designer. That’s the job she was doing when I met her, but after we moved to Nashville, she decided she wanted to work at something different. Since she couldn’t talk me into entertaining the idea of running a club with her, she networked until she found someone she could become partners with.

  Just as I step past the door, she opens it.

  “Jensen, it’s about time you came home. How long has it been this time…two days…three?”

  She’s my wife, and the sound of her voice almost makes me cringe.

  I loved her.

  I tell myself that over and over.

  We’ve been together for almost three years. The problem I have when I look at my wife is I don’t see much resemblance to the woman I first met.

  I’ve been blaming myself for the way things are. I tell myself it’s my fault she needs the things she does.

  I’ve left her alone so many times when I’ve had to put my job first. But Kaitlyn knew from the beginning my job is important to me. The kind of work I do, it can’t just be pushed to the side and forgotten about. When I’m involved in a big case, I need to stay focused until I see it through.

  Especially now, because these women who need to be found, and taken from the horrific situations they’re in, they don’t have time to wait while I wine and dine my wife, or take her to expensive sex clubs.

  Kaitlyn wants things I have no desire to do with her, to her, or for her.

  I’ve always been a dominant man when I have sex. I need that kind of control over a woman, over her pleasure. I like a variety of sex, and I like to play around in the bedroom. Kaitlyn’s desires go much deeper and darker than that. I don’t like, sexually or otherwise, to cause a woman pain. I also don’t want to rub my dick up against some other man’s junk, because my wife can’t be satisfied with just me.

  Kaitlyn likes to switch up the roles sometimes. She likes to be the one who wields the whip from time to time. It makes her wet when she sees a man on his knees while he begs for mercy.

  My wife is more twisted than dominant or submissive. She doesn’t have any hard limits.

  If you’d never seen this side of her, you wouldn’t know it exists. When she’s in public, she’s always elegant, and put together, like any woman might be. It’s only when she’s in a club, or in our bedroom, when she lets her dark side come out.

  She didn’t show it to me until after we’d said I do.

  “I’m beat. I’m going to take a shower, and then I need to get some sleep.”

  “Of course, Jensen.”

  Ignoring her, I shed my clothes as I go.

  When I get to the bathroom, I turn the shower on and adjust the temperature, and then I climb in. The hot water that beats down on my tired body relaxes me.

  I don’t even hear her when she comes in.

  I feel her press her naked body against my back, and she starts to run her hands over me. I’m so fucking tired, but my dick hasn’t gotten the memo. It’s been weeks since we’ve had sex. She’s my wife. The guilt eats at me because I have no desire to give her the things she wants.

  Maybe everything I’m feeling towards her right now isn’t all her fault.

  I turn around, intending to show her some attention…affection even. But she goes straight to her knees and wraps her lips around me. She works it hard and fast. In no time at all, I’m spilling down her throat.

  We wash off quickly and get out of the shower. Once I’ve toweled off, I don’t even bother with boxers, I climb into bed. Kaitlyn is still bare when she slides under the covers beside me. I can’t expect her to get me off, and not get anything in return.

  I close my eyes until I find the memories I have tucked away. Kaitlyn moans when I reach down and find her pussy. I work her with my fingers until she’s wet and ready, and then I roll her over, so she’s on her stomach.

  She knows what I want. She doesn’t waste any time getting her ass in the air for me.

  I reach into the nightstand because, in all the time we’ve been together, I’ve never wanted to take her without protection. After I get the condom in place, I push my cock in with one thrust. My mind is half here, and ha
lf somewhere else, as I thrust in and out. Once I’ve found my release, I get up to dispose of the condom.

  I hope she got hers too. I feel like an asshole because I didn’t take more time with her. But, not so much I can’t fall asleep. Like I said, I’m worn the fuck out.

  A little past nine in the morning, I’m already back at my desk and working. I go over some information I received this morning when I was out investigating one of my cases.

  Not every case we handle here has devastation written all over it. This one I’m working on is some rich dad who’s having a meltdown because he thinks his daughter is seeing some poor dude from another side of town. Apparently, whatever information I find for him will decide if she’s going to be cut off from her mega trust fund, or not. I feel like everyone needs to experience what it’s like to work for a living, so I won’t lose too much sleep if I cause that to happen.

  “Beck, did you look over the file I gave you?”

  Jonathon doesn’t even bother knocking.

  I forgot all about the damn file that’s still sitting in my briefcase, but the last thing I want to do is piss him off and have him start with the questions about my personal life again.

  “Give me another hour. I want to go over it again. I think I might have a few ideas.”

  He knows I always have an idea of some kind floating around in my head.

  “I’ll check back this afternoon.”

  After he lets himself out, I unlock my briefcase and pick up the thick manila folder.

  The first thing I see when I open it up, are those damn green eyes.

  Missing: Madison Anne Parker

  Age: 21

  Hair: Blonde

  Eyes: Green

  I flip through several pages until I get to a stack of photographs. There are dozens of disgusting images. Although she’s alone in every picture, she’s naked, or she’s wearing fetish costumes, and posing in sexual positions. In some, she’s bound and gagged.

  It looks like she’s probably done that to herself. I can tell these pictures were taken by an amateur. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s used some random camera with a timer, judging from the quality. She doesn’t look like she could be any older than fourteen or fifteen in some of these.

  Apparently, there are several websites where you can go to request her to do things for you live on a webcam. Her alias is Cinderella.

  I barely make it to the garbage can, before I lose my fucking breakfast.

  If she’s twenty-one years old now, that means she was seventeen fucking years old when I was with her.

  Fuck. What did I do to her?

  I remember the yelp of pain when I pushed into her. I thought it was due to my size, but I figured out later when I saw the stains on my sheets the next morning, she was a virgin. I didn’t think about her being so young. She looked twenty-one years old then. Hell, she could’ve passed for twenty-five the night she showed up in that little black dress.

  I’ve been tempted to try to find her. She never even told me her last name, but I knew where she was staying when we were at the beach. I could have done some investigating and found out everything about her.

  I decided to bury my feelings and ignore them. I respected her wish that we’d leave it to fate to decide if we’d ever see each other again.

  I guess fate has finally found us.

  After I get my shit together, I open the folder back up. I know for the sake of my job, I need to push my personal feelings aside, and deal with the case. After I spend close to an hour going over every detail, I pick up the folder and head to Jon’s office.

  “Come in, Beck. Have a seat.”

  I take a chair in front of his ancient desk. I don’t know how he ever gets anything done in this mess. He throws a fit if anyone attempts to get things organized for him.

  “What are your thoughts on this Parker girl, Jon?”

  I want to tell him to give the case to one of the other guys, but I can’t do that without having to explain a lot of shit I don’t have an explanation for. A small part of me wants to find her, so I can strangle her fucking little neck for lying to me.

  Maybe another part of me just wants to find her.

  “I think it would be a good idea to arrange a meeting with her parents. They’re in town. They’re staying at Madison’s place until we find her.”

  “Set up a meeting. We need to find out what we’re dealing with. The more time that passes, the harder it’ll be to find her.”

  “Let’s try to not scare the parents too much yet. At this point, we don’t know what’s going on. It doesn’t seem likely, but it’s possible she’s gone off on her own somewhere. It wouldn’t be the first time someone needed a vacation, would it?”

  I know he’s throwing shit at me right now. He’s been on my ass for weeks to take a breather, and figure my personal life out.

  I wait patiently while Jon makes the phone call to Madison’s parents. It doesn’t take him long to get it all set up and end the call.

  “They’ll be here around 2 o’clock. Do everything you can, Jensen. Let the Parker’s know we’ll find their daughter. I’m going to meet with someone from the FBI this afternoon. I’ll see what they have on this. With them and us working, we’ll find her.”

  “I’m going to head out and have an early lunch before they get here.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Jensen”

  “Come in, I’m Jensen Beck. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such a short notice.”

  I hold the door open for Mr. and Mrs. Parker.

  “Have a seat.”

  “You can call me Phillip, and this is my wife, Nicole. Thank you for agreeing to meet with us. These past few days have been a nightmare for my wife and I, Mr. Beck. Our little girl has been missing for three days already. That might not sound like a long time, but every minute that goes by where we hear nothing, we know it means we’re another minute closer to not being able to find her alive.”

  While they make themselves comfortable, I go around and take a seat on the other side of the table. Rather than meet with them in my small, stuffy office, I brought them to a private conference room that has more space.

  “When you’re ready, I need you to start from the beginning. I’ve already gone through our file and read over everything. I’ve seen the pictures and watched some of the video footage. Her missing is likely somehow related to the pornography…”

  Mr. Parker jumps up from where he’s sitting so fast, his movement causes his chair to tip backward.

  “Now listen here, I don’t know what it is you think you know about my daughter, Mr. Beck. She isn’t involved in pornography. She was a little girl when all of this started. Some son of a bitch took advantage of our little girl when she was fourteen years old. I don’t believe that makes her a porn star, do you?”

  “I understand, Mr. Parker, but whether you realize it or not, what she was doing was pornography. I didn’t say she did it willingly. Fact of the matter is, there’s a good chance those images and videos have everything to do with why she’s missing. What we need to figure out is who is behind it all. No one is blaming Madison, or saying she did all of this to herself, but someone did. And we need to find out who that someone is, Mr. Parker.”

  I take a few steps back because I can see he’s ready to throw a punch.

  “Let’s regroup. I can see there might be something I didn’t find in the file. Have a seat, and start from the beginning. I want to find your daughter, but if that’s going to happen, everyone needs to cooperate.”

  Mrs. Parker comes to her husband’s side and guides him back to the seat she’s returned to its upright position.

  “May I, Mr. Beck?”

  It’s obvious she’s upset. I can’t keep from thinking back to four years ago, to how fond Madison was of her family. She may have lied to me about a lot of things, but I don’t think she was ever making that part up. I’m sure the Parkers are devastated right now.

  “Please talk, Mrs. Parker
. Tell me anything you feel might be important.”

  “I’ve always blamed myself for not keeping a closer eye on Madison. She was always so smart. She had a good head on her shoulders. I never thought there was a reason to worry about her. She didn’t even pay much attention to boys. When Michelle and the other girls were going out to parties, and doing things typical teenagers do, Madison didn’t seem interested.”

  Nicole pulls a tissue from her purse to dab at the tears that fall down her face.

  “Everything started happening at the beginning of her senior year of high school. Someone… I’m sorry…this is hard to talk about.”

  “Take your time. I know this is all hard for you. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Water?”

  “Yes, water would be nice, thank you.”

  I go to the small refrigerator in the back of the conference room and get two bottles of water. I give one to both, Mr. and Mrs. Parker.

  After Mrs. Parker takes a few sips, she starts to talk about Madison again.

  “Someone sent out a link to a website at Madison’s school. The link was sent to principals, the teachers, students’ phones were all going off. The link led to a website filled with disgusting photos and videos. She stayed in her room and refused to talk to us for a long time. Finally, when she did talk, she told us what had been happening to her, for years. It started when she was fourteen. Madison met a boy through one of those popular social media sites. He started asking her for pictures. He sent her some as well. It started out with little stuff, but it didn’t take long until it escalated and got out of control. When Madison realized something was off with the boy, she tried to cut ties with him. Nothing worked. She started receiving threatening text messages and emails, and even a few phone calls. That’s when they started demanding the other…the more graphic and explicit...”

  When Madison’s mother pauses, I think back to when Madison spent so much time in with her phone. Fuck, it was going on right there under my damn nose. If I’d paid closer attention, or asked her more questions, maybe I could’ve prevented some of this from happening.

  I don’t know how to deal with the fact she lied to me about how old she was. She never gave me a reason to consider she could’ve been a virgin. It makes me sick when I think about some of the things we did together. I know the nasty fuckers who have been doing this to her are responsible for the way she behaved in the bedroom.