Start a War (Saint View Psychos #1)(20)

Back to where I belonged.

I needed this marriage to Caleb if I wanted to avoid the life my mother had fallen into.

“June will work,” I said quietly. “Perhaps it could be a beach wedding.”

Caleb nodded. “Plan whatever you want. You’ll move your things in as soon as it’s done. Let your father know.” He stalked into the en suite bathroom, the door closing with a bang behind him.

I flinched at the sharp noise, wrapping my arms around myself.

The ring taunted me with its tightness. A mocking sign that although I was a newly engaged woman, none of it fit quite right.





I called in sick to work, leaving a message on the center answering machine that I was unwell and needed a day off, but not to worry because I’d be back the next day. I didn’t want Josie or Sarah concerned about me. I felt bad enough leaving them short-staffed, though at least Vincent was due to start today.

I needed to go to the police and report the intruder. So I drove into the main street of town, where the station was, and spoke to the receptionist behind the plexiglass. She took my details, then told me to have a seat and that someone would be out in a moment to take my statement.

The electric doors flew open on my way to the waiting area, letting in a blast of fresh air from outside that was most welcome. I inhaled deeply, eyeing the man who walked in. He had a black motorcycle cut over a tight white T-shirt, and when he glanced down at me, my breath faltered in my lungs over the green of his eyes. They were so vibrant they were almost catlike.

“Hey, cutie,” he said to me with a grin, continuing on his way to the reception desk.

I was sure I was blushing. I took a seat and stared at his back while he spoke to the woman behind the desk. His cut was embroidered with the image of a hooded demon with a scythe clutched in his skeletal fingers and letters that spelled out his club name. Saint View Slayers.

He was clearly known to the receptionist, because she instantly buzzed the security doors open to allow him to meet an officer waiting on the other side. “Go on through, War. They’ve been waiting for you.”

He glanced in my direction once more and gave me a wink before disappearing with the officer.

I sank into my seat as the doors slid closed behind him. The hard plastic chairs had to have been wiped down recently, because the pine scent of antiseptic hung in the air, and it wrinkled my nose. Attractive man distraction over, I nervously drummed my fingers on the armrest while rehearsing in my head what I needed to say. I’d gone home and dressed carefully for this, making sure I looked neat and presentable. I’d covered my cleavage with a smart button-down shirt. I hadn’t dared tell Caleb what had happened, for fear of him knowing another man had seen me in the underwear I’d worn for him. A big part of me questioned whether he’d even believe me. He hadn’t believed me when I’d tried to explain about Nash’s shirt, and he’d punished me for it afterward.

I couldn’t have him do that again.

The nerves picked up in my belly, and as a middle-aged officer called my name, I faltered, realizing I couldn’t report this after all.

The cops would go to Caleb’s house and search for the entry point. What if they couldn’t find one? I’d seen nothing out of the ordinary when I’d checked the doors for any sign of a break-in. The man had worn gloves. There’d be no fingerprints. They’d question Caleb. Maybe even suspect him.

I could already feel the rage that would rise in Caleb.

A tremble rolled down my spine.

The officer paused in the middle of the room, waiting for me to follow him. But when I didn’t move, he called me again. “Miss? Did you still want to report something?”

He was staring at me with a calculating look on his face, and I suddenly felt like he could see through the carefully crafted makeup and outfit and right into my soul. The scared little girl, who’d lived in a trailer park and never knew where her next meal was coming from, felt very close to the surface.

He’d think I’d committed a crime. They already had all my details. I’d given them to the receptionist. Coming here and then changing my mind would make me appear guilty. I could see it all over his face.

I forced myself onto my feet, trying to think fast. “Not report a crime exactly,” I confessed. “More like checking up on one.”

He nodded and held a hand out. “After you, then. First door on your left.”

I fought the urge to run and made my gait slower and steadier than normal. Down the hall, we entered a little room, bare of anything but a desk and two chairs. I hesitated, waiting for the officer to indicate which chair was mine, and when he pointed to the one on the opposite side of the desk, I sank down into it, grateful for the fact the desk hid the tremble in my legs.

I’d had it drilled into my head as a kid that the police were the enemy. They weren’t there to help. Not ever. If you had a problem in the hood, we dealt with it ourselves. Nobody wanted the cops hanging around anymore than they already did.

“What can I help you with today, Miss Arthur?”

“My brother, Axel, was murdered two nights ago in Saint View. I asked to be informed of progress on his case, but as yet, nobody has contacted me.”

The officer raised one bushy eyebrow. “If nobody has called you, that’s because there’s nothing to call about.”

I stared at him. “A man was shot at point-blank range. Murdered on his front porch. There must be something to report.”