Free What He Provokes (What He Wants #18) by Hannah Ford Page A

said. “Yes, I am capable of talking for myself.”
    Noah didn’t say anything, but I felt him pull himself up to his full six-foot-three inches, his chest puffing out and his shoulders sliding back. “Can we make this quick?” he demanded. “I need to get my fiancé home.”
    Detective Rake’s eyes widened in surprise, and his gaze flicked down to the engagement ring on my finger. He looked back up at me, his eyebrows cocked in question. I knew what he was thinking. The last time he’d seen me, we’d been in a tiny interrogation at the police station. I’d been a part of Noah’s defense team, and Noah had been the main suspect in two different murder investigations.
    That wasn’t even that long ago, and now here we were, engaged.
    I swallowed and kept my eyes on Detective Rake’s, refusing to look away. He didn’t even know me. He had no right to question my choices, to judge me on who I’d chosen to spend my life with. And besides, Noah had been cleared of all charges.
    Still, a niggling though tugged at the back of my mind. Was this how it was going to be from now on? Everyone still suspicious of Noah, everyone worrying about me? I remembered that therapist from school, Dr. Cartwright, how he’d looked at the marks on my wrists, the expression on his face half alarm, half pity.
    I tugged my sweater down and pushed the thoughts out of my head. My relationship wasn’t anyone’s business. But you’ve thought it, too. You’ve worried this is getting too dark for you, that maybe you’re getting in over your head.
    “Sure, we can make it quick,” Detective Rake said easily, pulling out a small black leather notebook and his phone. “I’m going to be recording this, too.”
    “For what?” Noah demanded.
    He shrugged, then pressed a button on his phone. “Just in case. Now, you said you got here and you found the body?”
    “Yes,” Noah said.
    “And how did you know the victim?” Detective Rake asked.
    “He was – ” I started, but Noah cut me off.
    “We didn’t.”
    Detective Rake glanced up from his notebook. “You didn’t know him?”
    “No.”
    “Then what were you doing here?”
    “John – the, uh, the victim -- he texted me and said he might have some information about the girls who’ve gone missing from Force,” I said.
    “Charlotte!” Noah’s dark eyes blazed with anger and his jaw twitched.
    I ignored him. I knew Noah had a bone to pick with this detective, that he held a grudge after how he’d been treated that day at the police station, and I didn’t blame him. But sometimes there were more important things than getting over on someone. If we could convince the police to start looking into this, there might be a chance we could find Mikayla and the other girls.
    “John approached me earlier in the day,” I said. “He told me he had information about the missing Force girls, and that he wanted to meet up so he could tell me everything he knew.”
    “Charlotte,” Noah said, his voice a growled warning. He was giving me leeway, but it wouldn’t be long before he shut this whole thing down.
    “What missing girls?” Detective Rake asked, looking up from his notebook with interest.
    “The girls I told your department about when I gave my statement about what happened at Force the night I was almost killed.” I bit the inside of my cheek and tried not to show my frustration. Acting frustrated would serve no purpose. If I wanted the police to take me seriously, then I needed to present my case calmly and rationally. “There were women who were being held at Force against their will.”
    “With all due respect, Ms. Holloway,” the detective said, a smarmy smirk on his lips, “isn’t that kind of the point?”
    “No,” I said. “That isn’t the point. It’s – ”
    “Charlotte,” Noah said, the edge in his tone growing sharper as his hand tightened around mine.
    I clamped my mouth shut. Noah was right. It wasn’t my job to educate Detective Rake or anyone