Read Online Fever Claim (The Sigma Menace) by Marie Johnston - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Marie Johnston
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mid-session and breaks her office window trying to escape when she was having him committed. Or when her best friend kills two people, then her BFF and the one night stand end up being werewolves. That’s full “Dr. Stockwell” territory.
“Cassie it is.” He pulled up a chair on the other side of the table. She sat back down in her chair, crossed her ankles, and folded her hands in front of her on the table. Okay, Dr. Stockwell, get your shit back together .
“We’d like to talk with you about Kaitlyn.”
“You’ll have to ask Kaitlyn about Kaitlyn.”
“Cassie, we want to help her.”
“Look Bennett, if she wants you to help her, she’ll let you. Other than that, Kaitlyn’s life isn’t mine to talk about.”
Bennett sat quiet for a while. Then he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Just one question, then. Have you ever seen her shift?”
Cassie barked out a laugh. “That would be no. I knew nothing about werewolves or shifters or whatever you call yourselves, until today.”
Bennett studied her. She studied him back. He was a real showstopper, with his dirty blond hair expertly tousled to look messy-chic and his dark blue bedroom eyes. His face, with smooth flawless skin, high cheekbones, and strong jaw, could look easygoing and friendly, as it did now, or hard and ruthless like back at the quarry when she first saw him.
Black cargos seemed to be the team’s uniform with a black shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders, chest, and biceps. He no doubt had washboard abs like a gym rat hooked on protein shakes. The amount of weapons strapped between shoulders and ankles definitely led to the “don’t fuck with me, but I’ll fuck you” appeal.
Yet for all his masculine appeal, he didn’t do it for her. She felt no stomach flutters, no inclination to flirt (like she ever did), and no breathlessness when she looked at his handsome face. All of that happened only when she thought of Jace, and he didn’t have to be in the building.
Bennett’s lips spread in a sympathetic smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Gave you quite a shock, I imagine. You handled yourself well, staying calm, keeping quiet.”
Cassie nodded, encouraging the praise. It was Psych 101—sympathize and acknowledge the subject’s feelings, and she wanted to see what angle he was playing. He searched for information, but was it to help Kaitlyn, or use against her? Cassie wanted information, but instinctively knew Bennett didn’t plan on sharing.
“I suppose you got pretty street savvy once you became part of the system, going into foster care. You and Kaitlyn bonded pretty tightly, each with your own tragedy so you could understand each other.”
Did he really think this was going to work? She nodded again.
“You fostered with her family, right? Her adoptive parents hoping an intelligent, mature girl could mentor Kaitlyn through the teenage years, which are rough enough for girls who haven’t lost their loved ones in unimaginable ways.” Bennett folded his hands on the table, leaning slightly forward like she was. He lost the smile, but kept the sympathy in his eyes.
The situation was absurd. Here was a guy, strapped head to toe with knives, more probably where she couldn’t see, at least two guns, and are those throwing stars? and he’s trying to Dr. Phil her into telling him about Kaitlyn.
There was nothing to tell. They seemed to know the two girls’ history together but unless they wanted to hear about first heartbreaks and embarrassing tampon stories, she didn’t know what they were looking for and she wouldn’t tell them if she did. She and Kaitlyn bonded over their past tragedies, beyond that they were normal women who had each other’s backs. They could ask Kaitlyn about her past. Good luck with that.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Cassie said, “unless you want to hear about the time the cops were called to a frat party when we were nineteen and we both bailed out
“Cassie it is.” He pulled up a chair on the other side of the table. She sat back down in her chair, crossed her ankles, and folded her hands in front of her on the table. Okay, Dr. Stockwell, get your shit back together .
“We’d like to talk with you about Kaitlyn.”
“You’ll have to ask Kaitlyn about Kaitlyn.”
“Cassie, we want to help her.”
“Look Bennett, if she wants you to help her, she’ll let you. Other than that, Kaitlyn’s life isn’t mine to talk about.”
Bennett sat quiet for a while. Then he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Just one question, then. Have you ever seen her shift?”
Cassie barked out a laugh. “That would be no. I knew nothing about werewolves or shifters or whatever you call yourselves, until today.”
Bennett studied her. She studied him back. He was a real showstopper, with his dirty blond hair expertly tousled to look messy-chic and his dark blue bedroom eyes. His face, with smooth flawless skin, high cheekbones, and strong jaw, could look easygoing and friendly, as it did now, or hard and ruthless like back at the quarry when she first saw him.
Black cargos seemed to be the team’s uniform with a black shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders, chest, and biceps. He no doubt had washboard abs like a gym rat hooked on protein shakes. The amount of weapons strapped between shoulders and ankles definitely led to the “don’t fuck with me, but I’ll fuck you” appeal.
Yet for all his masculine appeal, he didn’t do it for her. She felt no stomach flutters, no inclination to flirt (like she ever did), and no breathlessness when she looked at his handsome face. All of that happened only when she thought of Jace, and he didn’t have to be in the building.
Bennett’s lips spread in a sympathetic smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Gave you quite a shock, I imagine. You handled yourself well, staying calm, keeping quiet.”
Cassie nodded, encouraging the praise. It was Psych 101—sympathize and acknowledge the subject’s feelings, and she wanted to see what angle he was playing. He searched for information, but was it to help Kaitlyn, or use against her? Cassie wanted information, but instinctively knew Bennett didn’t plan on sharing.
“I suppose you got pretty street savvy once you became part of the system, going into foster care. You and Kaitlyn bonded pretty tightly, each with your own tragedy so you could understand each other.”
Did he really think this was going to work? She nodded again.
“You fostered with her family, right? Her adoptive parents hoping an intelligent, mature girl could mentor Kaitlyn through the teenage years, which are rough enough for girls who haven’t lost their loved ones in unimaginable ways.” Bennett folded his hands on the table, leaning slightly forward like she was. He lost the smile, but kept the sympathy in his eyes.
The situation was absurd. Here was a guy, strapped head to toe with knives, more probably where she couldn’t see, at least two guns, and are those throwing stars? and he’s trying to Dr. Phil her into telling him about Kaitlyn.
There was nothing to tell. They seemed to know the two girls’ history together but unless they wanted to hear about first heartbreaks and embarrassing tampon stories, she didn’t know what they were looking for and she wouldn’t tell them if she did. She and Kaitlyn bonded over their past tragedies, beyond that they were normal women who had each other’s backs. They could ask Kaitlyn about her past. Good luck with that.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Cassie said, “unless you want to hear about the time the cops were called to a frat party when we were nineteen and we both bailed out
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