Under Pressure. Lori Foster

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      When she sighed, her warm breath frosted the window.

      Knowing she’d stalled too long, Cat whispered, “My stepfather...he knows about it. He might only be involved in covering it up.” Or he could be guilty of the violent acts. She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

      Leese’s hands settled on her shoulders and he drew her back against his chest, his chin atop her head. He said nothing, just held her, surrounding her in his size and scent and power.

      In the reflection of the window, Cat saw Sahara look to Justice for an explanation, and she saw Justice shrug in a “haven’t got a clue” sort of way.

      So Leese didn’t embrace every client? This was an aberration for him? Nice to know. But it was still confusing—to her, and obviously to his boss and his colleague.

      Clearly, no one understood it, least of all her, but Leese made her feel as if all the bad things in the world couldn’t touch her, not when he was close, and that robbed her of the debilitating panic.

      She took one deep breath, then another. “A woman was killed.”

      “Who?” Sahara asked sharply.

      There’d be no backing out now. Still, she couldn’t tell them everything. She didn’t dare.

      The less they knew, the safer they’d be. She’d have to start juggling and, blast it all, she wasn’t that coordinated.

      “I only know her name.” Cat pressed closer to Leese, stealing some of his strength. “And her age.”

      Leese waited.

      Grateful for his patience, she sorted her thoughts. Though she’d already decided these people wouldn’t hurt her, she needed further verification before she said anything more. “I can trust everyone here not to repeat what I’m going to tell you, right? If the wrong people find out—”

      “You can trust us,” Sahara assured her.

      “Besides,” Leese said, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze, “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, remember?”

      He didn’t seem to mind that others were watching, and Cat wasn’t sure what to make of that.

      Flustered, she stated, “It can’t leave this room.”

      “Then it won’t,” Sahara promised.

      Accepting that, Cat drew a breath and whispered, “Georgia Bell. She was only eighteen.”

      Justice cursed softly. “So young.”

      Wretched grief welled up. Every time Cat thought about it, about a young girl scared and alone and desperate, it broke her heart all over again. That poor, poor girl. How badly had she suffered?

      And if the ones responsible found her, would Cat suffer the same fate?

      Leese interrupted that thought by rubbing her shoulders. “Do you know how and why she was killed?”

      The memory made Cat shiver. “From what I overheard, Georgia was hired to waitress at a private party on the island. Because she was offered so much money, she agreed—but only to waitressing. She didn’t understand that the offer came with certain expectations regardless of how she’d feel about it.”

      “Like?” Leese asked.

      This was the tricky part, where she had to dance around the truth without revealing too much. “One of my stepfather’s more influential friends—” a name they’d all recognize, if she shared that much “—wanted her for...more. She agreed, to an extent.”

      As Cat spoke, the words came faster, more strained, matching the frantic beat of her heart.

      “But I guess he took it too far because at one point Georgia wanted to leave.”

      “You’re sure?” Justice asked. He scratched his left ear, thinking aloud. “If she said yes to something—”

      Cat almost lost it. She jerked around to face Justice, wanting, needing a little violence. If he’d been closer, she might have slugged him.

      As it was, Leese held her back when she started to lunge forward.

      Fine. She still had her voice, and by God, no one would rob her of that. “She agreed to sex with one man. She said no to others joining them, and she obviously said no to being a sideshow. And no, as far as I’m concerned, always means no.”

      Eyebrows shooting up, Justice said, “I agree one hundred percent, honey, so spew the venom elsewhere. Rapists are at the top of my list of scum of the earth, right up there with child abusers. I was just going for clarification. How do you know what happened? Were you there?”

      “Oh God, no.” She shook her head hard. If she had her way, that damned island would be blown to pieces. “I know Georgia refused, because that’s what they said.” The turbulent mix of anger and panic descended on her again. “They joked, laughing over how she wanted to leave but saying it was already too late for that and they couldn’t let her, so they...they killed her.” She squeezed her eyes shut, horrified anew at the blasé discussion of cold-blooded murder.

      They’d talked about ending an eighteen-year-old girl with the same lack of empathy they’d have given to an annoying fly.

      “Shh.” Leese turned her into his embrace and his big hands moved up and down her back. “Take it easy.”

      Until he soothed her, she hadn’t realized how badly she trembled.

      No one spoke and by the second she felt more like a wimp. She knew Sahara watched them with wide-eyed incredulity, and that Justice was confused by his friend’s familiarity. By letting Leese comfort her, she was putting his job at risk. He couldn’t get in trouble over her.

      Somehow she had to get it together.

      But it was a struggle. Georgia Bell had been gone for months now, but for Cat, the horror was fresh, as if it had happened just yesterday. The cut felt raw and still far too painful.

      A steadying breath helped a little. Trying to compose herself, she levered away from Leese’s comfort. If this was her time of confession, she needed to get through it.

      Leese kept his hands on her upper arms and dipped down a bit to look her in the eye. “How do you know all this?”

      In the quietest of whispers, she confessed, “I overheard it all.”

      Leese’s hands tightened. “And the killers know it?”

      “I’m afraid so.”

      “See,” Justice said, his hands out, “this is what I was trying to get to, the deets on how you know what you know.” He grumbled low to himself, “Accusin’ me of supporting abuse. That’s bullshit.”

      He looked a little wrecked that she’d ever misunderstood, so Cat gave him an apologetic nod. “They were all in Webb’s boathouse, only СКАЧАТЬ