Read Online Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set by Lashell Collins - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lashell Collins
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the covers and silences the TV.
“Well, yes and no,” I respond walking further into the room and coming to a stop near the end of the bed. “The prints we lifted off your car and purse don’t match any we have already on file. The hate mail from your family’s company didn’t turn up anything interesting, and the sweep we did of your apartment didn’t turn up anything either. I did show your sketch of the tattoo around the station hoping that maybe one of the guys might recognize it. My partner and I also canvased some of the local tattoo shops but, to no avail. No one seemed to know anything.”
“But, how can that be?” she asks sort of mournfully. “I had another nightmare about the attack last night,” she says softly. “I’m more certain than ever that he had that tattoo.” Her voice is full of sadness and I am momentarily distracted by her pout.
“It doesn’t mean that you were wrong about the tattoo, Miss Colby,” I try to reassure her. “It could just mean that our guy didn’t get the tat from one of the local shops. He could have gotten it anywhere,” I shrug. “Or it could mean that we just didn’t run across the right shop or the right person yesterday. There are a lot of tattoo parlors in this city and we’ve only hit a handful of them so far.”
She nods at my explanations and then appears to be thinking something over. Her pout deepens and I have to stifle a groan when she gently bites down on her bottom lip, clearly deep in thought. And I am lost trying to figure out why that simple gesture was so freaking hot when I hear her softly say, “We may never know who did this.”
I blink at her words and I suddenly feel so useless. And I realize in that moment, that I would do anything to make this all right for her. To find the asshole who hurt her and put him away in order to make her feel safe again. Hell, that’s why I got into this line of work in the first place, wasn’t it? To help protect those who weren’t big enough or strong enough to protect themselves. And out of nowhere, an image of my mother lying crumpled and bloodied on the living room floor flashes briefly and unbidden through my mind. That was the night he broke her jaw. I feel anger course throughout my body and my fists involuntarily clench at my sides. Calm down, Pierce. It’s just a memory. I take a couple of deep breaths and try to rein it in.
“Miss Colby … I would love to promise you that I will find whoever did this to you,” I say quietly. “But I can’t make that promise. All I can promise is that I’ll do my job to the best of my ability.” I hold her gaze for what feels like an eternity and I think she is assessing my earnestness.
She nods slowly. “Thank you, Detective,” she says softly.
“You said that you had another nightmare last night. Did you remember anything else?” I ask her. “Some detail about his facial features, maybe?”
She is quiet for several seconds and then says apologetically, “No, I’m sorry. I just keep seeing that tattoo on his neck and smelling the cigarette smoke.”
“If you remembered anything more we could maybe have you work with a sketch artist,” I tell her. “But until we have something more to go on … I’m afraid there’s not much we can do.”
She looks so sad and I watch as she silently wipes a few stray tears from her cheeks. I feel like a bastard for telling her this but, it’s the truth.
“Do you still think this was done to me purposely?” she asks.
I give her a shrug of my shoulders and a shake of my head. “Honestly, Miss Colby, I’m just not sure. But without more to go on, it is looking more like a random incident.” But even as I say the words I can feel that gnawing at my gut again. Something about her assault just doesn’t make any sense and I know that I’m not wrong, but I don’t want to give her any false hope or scare her needlessly. “This doesn’t mean we’re finished. I will continue to canvas the area
“Well, yes and no,” I respond walking further into the room and coming to a stop near the end of the bed. “The prints we lifted off your car and purse don’t match any we have already on file. The hate mail from your family’s company didn’t turn up anything interesting, and the sweep we did of your apartment didn’t turn up anything either. I did show your sketch of the tattoo around the station hoping that maybe one of the guys might recognize it. My partner and I also canvased some of the local tattoo shops but, to no avail. No one seemed to know anything.”
“But, how can that be?” she asks sort of mournfully. “I had another nightmare about the attack last night,” she says softly. “I’m more certain than ever that he had that tattoo.” Her voice is full of sadness and I am momentarily distracted by her pout.
“It doesn’t mean that you were wrong about the tattoo, Miss Colby,” I try to reassure her. “It could just mean that our guy didn’t get the tat from one of the local shops. He could have gotten it anywhere,” I shrug. “Or it could mean that we just didn’t run across the right shop or the right person yesterday. There are a lot of tattoo parlors in this city and we’ve only hit a handful of them so far.”
She nods at my explanations and then appears to be thinking something over. Her pout deepens and I have to stifle a groan when she gently bites down on her bottom lip, clearly deep in thought. And I am lost trying to figure out why that simple gesture was so freaking hot when I hear her softly say, “We may never know who did this.”
I blink at her words and I suddenly feel so useless. And I realize in that moment, that I would do anything to make this all right for her. To find the asshole who hurt her and put him away in order to make her feel safe again. Hell, that’s why I got into this line of work in the first place, wasn’t it? To help protect those who weren’t big enough or strong enough to protect themselves. And out of nowhere, an image of my mother lying crumpled and bloodied on the living room floor flashes briefly and unbidden through my mind. That was the night he broke her jaw. I feel anger course throughout my body and my fists involuntarily clench at my sides. Calm down, Pierce. It’s just a memory. I take a couple of deep breaths and try to rein it in.
“Miss Colby … I would love to promise you that I will find whoever did this to you,” I say quietly. “But I can’t make that promise. All I can promise is that I’ll do my job to the best of my ability.” I hold her gaze for what feels like an eternity and I think she is assessing my earnestness.
She nods slowly. “Thank you, Detective,” she says softly.
“You said that you had another nightmare last night. Did you remember anything else?” I ask her. “Some detail about his facial features, maybe?”
She is quiet for several seconds and then says apologetically, “No, I’m sorry. I just keep seeing that tattoo on his neck and smelling the cigarette smoke.”
“If you remembered anything more we could maybe have you work with a sketch artist,” I tell her. “But until we have something more to go on … I’m afraid there’s not much we can do.”
She looks so sad and I watch as she silently wipes a few stray tears from her cheeks. I feel like a bastard for telling her this but, it’s the truth.
“Do you still think this was done to me purposely?” she asks.
I give her a shrug of my shoulders and a shake of my head. “Honestly, Miss Colby, I’m just not sure. But without more to go on, it is looking more like a random incident.” But even as I say the words I can feel that gnawing at my gut again. Something about her assault just doesn’t make any sense and I know that I’m not wrong, but I don’t want to give her any false hope or scare her needlessly. “This doesn’t mean we’re finished. I will continue to canvas the area
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