Master (An Impossible Novel) (Impossible #6)

by Julia Sykes

“Determined,” he remarked. “I like that, too. The determined ones always fight harder.”

  “So you enjoy raping women.” I tried to catch him out.

  His smile was condescending. “Did I say that? I don’t believe I did.”

  “Wednesday,” I prompted. “Between seven and eight PM. Where were you?”

  “With Jolene. But you already knew that.”

  “I don’t know that,” I corrected him. “I know CPD officers found you hiding out at her house this morning. Hiding behind a woman like a little bitch.”

  I expected a snarl or an outburst. I hoped to provoke him. But he just laughed. “Jolene’s useful. I was with her for the last two weeks. You can ask her.”

  “And I’m sure she’ll back you up. That is, until we arrest her for aiding and abetting. How long do you think she’ll protect you then?” I placed special emphasis on protect in an effort to shame him. A man like Parnell reveled in power over women, and the suggestion that he was reliant on one in any way should piss him off. It should make him sloppy.

  “You can’t arrest her for that,” he called my bluff. “Who is she aiding and abetting? I’m not a criminal. I’ve never been convicted of anything, and you don’t seem to be charging me with anything, either.”

  “I’ll do whatever I have to to get her to talk,” I assured him. “I’ll find out if you’re lying.”

  He shrugged. “You want to know where I was between seven and eight PM on Wednesday? I was fucking her. I was fucking her, but I wasn’t with her. You see, I was thinking about you, Katherine. Jolene’s a kinky bitch. She lets me choke her while I fuck her. I was thinking about how my hands would look around your throat. You have such beautiful skin. I bet it would turn a nice shade of red while I choked you. You’re a kinky bitch, too, aren’t you, Kathy?”

  Kathy. Fear curled up my throat, cutting off my air as effectively as Parnell’s hands.

  “Oh, look. Now you’ve gone all pale. Very pretty skin. So expressive.”

  “You’re threatening to murder a Federal Agent,” I forced out.

  His sick smile stayed fixed firmly in place. “I didn’t say anything about killing you. I wouldn’t kick a woman like you out of bed that quickly.”

  An insinuation that he would want to keep a victim around for a while. And he called me Kathy.

  He’s not The Mentor. He’s not The Mentor.

  Wasn’t he? When The Mentor had attacked me, I couldn’t read anything about his identity. Was he sitting right across from me, taunting me?

  No. It couldn’t be. It didn’t make any sense.

  “I didn’t think you liked to keep your women for long before you raped and murdered them,” I remarked as calmly as I could manage.

  “Aren’t you a cold one? Throwing out words like rape and murder like it doesn’t bother you. But I know it does, Kathy. Underneath that ice, you burn hot. I could break that ice. You’d be such a hot fuck. You need to be broken.”

  I wanted to vomit, I wanted to run, but he was getting so close to confessing something he shouldn’t. And so close to telling me whether or not he really was The Mentor.

  “You’ll come to love me,” he had said.

  “So you think breaking me will make me love you? Is that what you want? Love?” I did my best impression of a scoff. “I didn’t think you were that much of a pussy, Parnell.”

  He jerked against the handcuffs that secured him to the table and growled at me. I had finally gotten to him. “I don’t want your fucking love, bitch. I want your cunt. I want your screams. I want to watch the light leave your eyes. I want me fucking you raw to be the last thing you know.”

  I knew I should feel triumph. The threat was enough for us to hold him for a little while. Maybe we could get some charges to stick. But all I felt was soul-deep disgust.

  He leaned toward me, and his putrid breath fanned across my face. “You think you know me. You don’t know shit. We’ll get better acquainted soon.”

  The door opened behind me, and righteous rage pulsed into the room. A familiar hand came down on my shoulder in a protective gesture, and I looked up to find Frank standing at my side. His hard eyes were fixed on Parnell.

  “You won’t be getting anywhere near her.” He spoke calmly, quietly. It was more terrifying than if he had shouted. “You’re going to rot in prison. You’ll die there, if I have any say in it. And I do.”

  Parnell paled as he realized his mistake. He had provoked my dad, and now the full power of the FBI was going to come down on him. He looked like he might piss himself.

  Frank gave my shoulder a little squeeze. “Come on, Katie.” He walked me out of the room, and I found solace in his strength at my side. Surely he could see that my job was tearing me apart. He wouldn’t want that for me. Maybe it was time to talk to him about a career change.

  To my surprise, he didn’t let me go once we were outside interrogation. Instead, his arm wrapped around my shoulders, and he pulled me close. He rarely touched me in front of other people like this. It went against his hard-ass persona. He must be really worried about me to make such an aggressive show of support. That almost scared me more than anything, even as I found comfort in his protection.

  I noticed Colton shift uncomfortably on his feet, and I realized that Frank was staring him down.

  “What do you think you’re doing, sending her in there with Parnell?” He asked the captain in that same low, dangerous voice.

  It was Reed who answered. “It was Katie’s decision. We respected that.” He wasn’t throwing me under the bus; he was supporting me, like a partner should.

  It wasn’t a smart move. Frank’s glare turned on Reed, and I almost stepped between them to shield Reed from its piercing force. But he didn’t need my help. He swallowed, but he met Frank squarely in the eye. After what felt like an eternity, Frank gave him a short nod of acknowledgement. I could hardly believe it.

  Then his stare turned on me. I would have stepped away if it weren’t for his arm around my shoulders holding me in place.

  “Don’t do anything like that again,” he reprimanded. “I know you’re a great agent, but you don’t have to handle things like this on your own.”

  I marveled at the words. I had never expected Frank to tell me it was okay to lean on someone else. Reed might be right, after all. Frank just wanted what was best for me. And if what was best for me didn’t include working for the FBI, he just might approve.

  As soon as I caught The Mentor, I was going to talk to him about my career path. Animals were so much kinder than humans.

  Despite everything that was happening, I felt as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

  “Do I want the good news or the bad news first?” Reed asked his friend with the easy humor of familiarity, but there was a tense undercurrent to his tone. Smith James’ expression was a twisted mask of anger. The senior agent from the New York field office had flown to Chicago under the pretense of visiting his fiancé’s family, but now he was sitting in Reed’s hotel suite, grim-faced.

  “The good news is the bad news.” His voice was deep and gravelly, but not from weariness. I had met Smith a few times before, and I knew this was just his usual ferocity, turned up a few notches. “You remember the Latin King, Hugo Reyes, who we arrested when we busted Decadence for drug trafficking?”

  Reed gave a tight, satisfied nod. “The fucker I put in a coma. I remember him.”

  “Well, he’s awake now, and not so brain damaged that he’s forgotten what you did to him and why. He’s turned on the Kings in exchange for being sent to a minimum security prison. He feels safer with the white collar criminals than his brothers in the gang. His brush with death has brought him to the realization that he doesn’t want to die for them, after all.”

  “If you’re talking to us, I’m guessing his information pertains to more than just the Kings in New York,” I surmised. “But why are we meeting here and not at the field office?”

  He eyed me carefully, assessing. I shifte
d under his scrutiny, and his features eased to something more genial. “Because I trust Reed, and he trusts you.”

  “So what did Reyes have to say that’s so important you couldn’t tell us over the phone or through email?” Reed prompted.

  “You remember how the Kings knew to try to run just before we came in for the bust? We managed to round them up anyway, but the Russians got away,” his lips thinned. “Reyes said they were tipped off. He identified the man who warned him as Carl Martel. So now we know how Martel knew to get out before we came in. He abandoned Lydia to save his own skin. The chaos that ensued when the Kings tried to escape gave him the opportunity to slip past us.”

  “But who told Martel to get out?” I came to the same nauseating conclusion he obviously had. “His only ally. The Mentor. And the only way The Mentor would have known we were coming is if-”

  “He’s one of us,” Reed finished for me. “He’s NYPD or FBI.”

  “It makes sense,” Smith rumbled. “Martel was always one step ahead of us. He knew when and where he could get to Lydia without getting caught.” He paused and closed his eyes briefly, clearly reining in his fury at the memories of what had been done to the woman he loved; Lydia Chase was his fiancé. “Then there’s the sniper attack on Tucker Chase and the advanced tech Martel used, but there isn’t any evidence of him having those skill sets.”

  I paled, remembering the video clip of Reed and me that had appeared on my computer. That hadn’t been the work of an amateur stalker; it had been The Mentor. “Have we gotten anything off my computer?” I asked Reed. “You know, after…” I trailed off, hoping no one had been able to recover the video even as I knew we needed more clues.

  “Completely fried,” Reed responded, his hand finding mine. “Tech couldn’t salvage anything.”

  I forced myself to remain in professional mode. “But what’s the link between Martel and The Mentor? Why would The Mentor go to such lengths for him?”

  “You’re very brave. That makes me… happy.” I remembered the words he had spoken to me as he held me down, his cock hardening against me.

  “The Mentor is insane. He admitted it when he…” I swallowed. “When I was with him. He seemed almost surprised that he felt any emotion for me at all. My guess is he’s a psychopath. What bond did he share with Martel to make him care enough to protect his mentee?” I turned back to the only lead we had. “What about the list of patrons at Dusk? There was one who’s FBI, and he’s in the New York field-”

  “No!” Smith barked, and I shrank back. “Don’t you dare say Kennedy’s name. I owe him everything that I am. He’s a good man.”

  “My name and Dex’s are on the list, too,” Reed reminded me, effectively cutting off what was sure to be a tirade from Smith. The man was intimidating, and I had inched toward Reed for support without realizing it. Smith’s eyes fell on my white-knuckled grip on my partner’s hand, and he backed off.

  “You don’t know him, but I do. So does Reed. Kennedy could never do something like this.” Smith’s voice was gentler this time, and some of the tension left me. I hadn’t at all enjoyed being caught in his furor.

  “All right, then,” my voice barely trembled. “The client list at Dusk has gotten us nowhere, we can’t find anything about Martel’s family other than his murdered parents, and now we know that Parnell’s probably not The Mentor.” What started out as a confident list of facts turned defeated by the end. What more did we have?

  “We’re still going through the missing person cases,” Reed reminded me. “We might find something there. And now we know he’s in law enforcement. That’ll help narrow our search. We’re not back at square one, Katie,” he reassured me.

  I was almost terrified to ask, but it was the only other next step I could think of. “What about Lydia?” I didn’t look Smith in the eye. “Could I talk to her again? If she remembers anything-”

  Smith let out a warning growl, and my teeth snapped closed.

  “I think it’s Lydia’s choice.” Reed fixed Smith with a significant stare.

  After a long, tense silence, Smith snapped, “Fine. You’re right. It’s her choice. I just want to keep her safe, but I have to remember that she doesn’t like it when I make decisions for her,” he said the last with fondness, and I was relieved at his renewed warmth. Lydia obviously brought out his softer side as well as triggering his ferocity when it came to defending her. “I’ll ask her tonight. I know it’s important to her that The Mentor is caught. She worries constantly about the women he might be hurting.” He turned kind silver eyes on me. “And I know she likes you, Agent Byrd. If she’ll talk to anyone, it’ll be you.”

  “Thanks,” I said, slightly abashed. I had been the first agent Lydia had opened up to after she had been found at Decadence, after Martel had abandoned her. She had been so destroyed inside. That conversation still haunted me. It wasn’t something I looked forward to repeating, but if she was strong enough to talk about it, I would have to be strong enough to listen.

  “Okay,” Smith stood. “I have to get back to her. I don’t like her being in Chicago and out of my sight.” His eyes glowed as he looked from Reed to me, impressing his will upon us. “This conversation doesn’t leave this room. I don’t trust anyone else. Except Clayton and Kennedy,” his gaze burned into me as he spoke his boss’ name.

  My heart squeezed. I shared the same faith in Dex and Frank, but I didn’t dare tell Smith that I would utter a word to either of them.

  I thought about Colton. Didn’t I trust him, too? He had been so sure Parnell was The Mentor. And I knew Parnell would have made the perfect scapegoat. He had weaseled his way out of being imprisoned for his known crimes because the CPD had lost the evidence against him.

  Someone in law enforcement.

  I recalled my blindness when The Mentor had assaulted me, how he had masked every aspect of his identity. He had been so close that he had touched me, and I was still no closer to learning who he was.

  I can’t trust anyone.

  Chapter 13

  It was still so strange lounging in bed next to Reed, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Passion had lead me here on other nights, and exhaustion the night before. But now we had both showered and brushed our teeth and gotten into bed, as though we were a normal couple going about our usual routines.

  Thankfully, Reed had brought a variety of clothes from my apartment, so I wasn’t stuck with just pajamas. I had a sneaking suspicion he had included the silky green nightgown with white lace on purpose, but I didn’t mind. It was far less embarrassing than my animal print PJs. The only thing embarrassing about this was the fact that my hard nipples were clearly visible against the thin material. That was something Reed didn’t seem to mind.

  He also didn’t seem to mind sleeping in nothing but boxers.

  “Don’t you have a t-shirt or something?” I asked. The intensity of my attraction to him still scared me somewhat, and having him mostly naked wasn’t helping.

  He laughed at me. “Well, aren’t you prudish all of a sudden? You didn’t mind looking at my cock in the shower. Besides, the boxers are a courtesy. I usually don’t wear anything to bed.” The playful sparkle in his eyes faded. “I thought you might appreciate some space between us tonight. I understand if you want me to sleep on the couch.”

  “What? Why?”

  “After everything that’s happened with The Mentor, and today with Parnell, I figured you might not want to be near a man.” The words seemed to pain him, as though it went against his nature to put distance between us. I remembered how he had touched me so boldly in the shower, burning away memories of my stalker’s touch. He obviously wanted to do the same again, to claim me after the vile things Parnell had said about raping me, but he also seemed to sense that I had hit some kind of breaking point.

  A part of me thought he was right. But at the same time, I couldn’t bear the thought of his distance. I needed Reed’s strength beside me, despite my fears about what needing him sai
d about me. I was coming to accept that I didn’t have to be strong and independent all the time, that it was okay to show vulnerability. But I couldn’t afford to think like that just yet. I had to catch The Mentor before I could think about changing my life.

  “I don’t want you to go,” I said quietly. “Today was horrible, but something good came of it. The way Frank was so protective of me… It made me realize he wants me to be safe and happy.” I took a deep breath, ready to make the admission out loud. “I think you might be right, Reed. Frank would have never wanted me to join the FBI if he realized how much I hate it.”

  His eyes widened. “You’re really thinking about quitting?”

  I bit my lip. “I think so,” I whispered, as though I was afraid to say the words. “But not yet. I have to catch The Mentor first. And I’m worried…” I hesitated. “I’m worried when I stop being strong, all my grief about my dad will come back and I’ll have to go through mourning all over again. I don’t know if I can handle that, Reed. I’m… I’m scared.”

  “Come here,” his voice was soft as he wrapped an arm around my waist and scooted my body closer to his. I rested my head on his shoulder, taking comfort in his steady warmth. “If you do have to grieve, I’ll be right here with you.”

  “You lost your mother,” I remembered. “How do you deal with it? With her being gone?”

  “Losing her shaped my whole life. I wouldn’t be who I am if things had happened differently. And I know she’d be proud of who I’ve become. I miss her, but I can’t change the past. All I can do is choose how to live now.”

  “You said you were fourteen when she died. How did it happen?” I knew the question was intensely personal, but Reed had never been anything but unflinchingly honest and open with me. And I had shared some of my deepest secrets with him.

  “She was stabbed to death.” He paused, as though it took effort to say the next words. “By my father.”

  “Oh my god, Reed. I’m so sorry.” The words weren’t enough, but what else could I say? The prospect was horrific. How was Reed able to live with what had happened to her?