Rhapsody (The Teplo Trilogy #2) Read Free

heart. They'd killed so many people already, forcing lethal doses of drugs into them and then leaving their bodies scattered around the city. She didn't know for certain if they'd killed intentionally, but she didn't doubt it. They were working with a drug cartel, for God's sake. Who knew how far they were willing to go to push their drug into the market? They'd certainly been willing enough to murder Emma, an innocent teenager.
    Would they do the same to her? To Tristan?
    She jumped when Warner slammed the driver's side door.
    His gaze sought hers in the rearview mirror. "We'll be there soon," he promised. Despite the shadows cast from the bars of the cage, kindness and compassion burned in the depths of his eyes. He reminded her of her father in that way, and that made her throat tight.
    She missed her father so much all of the sudden. He always knew what to say to make her feel better, to reassure her that things would work out. Even when she'd been at her lowest, fighting to walk, he'd been able to give her hope and make her smile. What would he say if he knew what she'd spent the last several weeks doing? If he learned of the thing she'd let Tristan do to her in the middle of the club? The things she'd wanted him to do to her?
    Lillian glanced across the street at Teplo , at the people Tristan wanted so badly to save. Would her father understand why she'd said yes? What had driven her?
    She didn't know, but she prayed he never found out the truth.
    Malachi's gaze burned as Warner pulled away from the curb, driving her away from the chaos her life had become since meeting Tristan. As Teplo faded in the shadows behind them, she had a feeling whatever waited ahead would be even worse.

Chapter Two
     
    Standard gray paint peeled from the walls in Warner's office, flaking off to reveal the dirty tan color beneath. The scent of burned coffee and industrial strength cleaner made Lillian's head ache as she stared at the walls, listening to the faint ring of telephones in the distance.
    "Are you comfortable enough?" Warner asked solicitously, glancing up from the papers strewn across his desk when she shifted in her seat, trying to ease the ache in her leg. They'd been at the precinct for over two hours already. The pain in her thigh rose in intensity minute by minute. She needed to walk, to stretch, to do anything other than sit and wait for Michael to whisk her away to wherever they planned to keep her.
    "I'm fine, thank you," she said, offering Warner a weak smile. He'd been nothing but nice to her since they'd arrived, getting her a drink, rounding up worn and tattered issues of American Police Beat magazine for her perusal, even dragging a more comfortable chair into his cramped office when he realized how uncomfortable she was in the hard, aluminum folding chair.
    They hadn't spoken much, and that was okay with Lillian. She'd asked once where they were going to keep her, but he either didn't know or didn't feel inclined to share that information with her. There wasn't much else to say. Warner was doing the DEA a favor, babysitting her because Tristan had asked.
    She still hadn't heard a word from him .
    Hurt and anger ran like a current through her, rising in intensity alongside the pain in her leg. He'd dragged her into this, and then he'd disappeared, leaving Michael and Warner to deal with her in his stead. Regardless of his reasons, the fact that he was avoiding her hurt. After all they'd shared, he should have been the one to tell her what he wanted to do. He should have been the one to face her, and she hated that he'd sent someone else to do it for him.
    Funny thing though, she still ached to see him, to touch him, to assure herself that he really was safe. She wasn't sure she could believe Michael and Warner until she saw Tristan for herself.
    Maybe she didn't know every detail about him, but she knew enough to know he was hurting. That all of this—avoiding her, the fake arrest, sitting in the precinct for