Storm Front by Monette Michaels Read Free Book Online Page A

The bastards hurt her … no, he couldn’t think about it. He couldn’t erase what happened to her in the past. But he could stop anything similar happening in her future. He needed to stay in control and do what needed to be done to get the fucker who stalked her out of her life.
    Earl slid onto the bench seat next to Tweeter who’d begun to do something to the e-mails containing the images.
    “What are you doing?” He didn’t recognize his own voice; it was low and feral, animalistic.
    “Sending all this to my computer in the Bat Cave.” Tweeter looked around the table and smiled, an almost evil look. “I’ll have the fucker’s name and address by lunchtime. Then we’ll go get the sick asshole and find out where he got the images, who the sickos are in them, and who took them.”
    Chad coughed. Evan looked even paler.
    “You know who took the pictures,” Earl said. “Who filmed her, don’t you?”
    Evan nodded and his breath hitched. “The people who took her and some other girls from an orphanage in Shanghai and smuggled them into the United States. They were sex traffickers.”
    “Jesuschristfuckingsonuvabitch.” Earl clenched and unclenched his hands. He ignored the pain in his right hand, which was swollen and bruised from hitting the wall. He really wanted to hit the wall some more, but Tweeter had made a valid point—he might need the hand later to beat up the cyberstalker and the people who’d violated Tessa.
    “Tessa spent five years under the thumb of those depraved bastards,” Chad added. “Somehow, she found a way to escape, and we found her before they could take her back.”
    Evan had gotten up, gone to the freezer, and brought Earl a frozen bag of peas, which he handed to him. Earl put it on his sore hand and nodded his thanks.
    “You rescued her.” Earl’s thoughts were filled with murder and mayhem for the people who’d hurt Tessa. “You’ll take me to them. I don’t care where they’re serving time. I’ll only need a few seconds alone to beat the names of the others out of them.”
    Chad shook his head. “Can’t. The two people who took her—Sylvia and Bob Branham—are dead. When Tessa finally … um … could talk … the police went to the warehouse used as a private club. They found the Branhams dead in the basement dungeon and the rest of the club empty. All the records and the other girls and some young boys were gone. Place had been drowned in bleach, and every surface wiped. Chicago CSI got less than nothing from the site. The FBI techs also found nothing when Chicago called them into the case.”
    Earl cursed under his breath and hit the table with his fist, causing Chad and Evan to flinch and the bag of peas to slide off. He slapped it back on his hand.
    Rein it in, Blackhawk. You’re no good to Tessa in a rage. Save it for when you find the fucker terrorizing her.
    Tweeter sat up. “I remember the case. Callie told us about it. The Chicago couple ran a club catering to sexual predators.”
    “Yeah.” Evan choked and then swallowed audibly. “Tessa felt so guilty she hadn’t been able to give the police details sooner, but she was so…”
    Chad finished the sentence, his voice filled with unshed tears and anger. “…beaten up. Broken ribs. Vaginal bleeding. Anal bleeding. She had pneumonia. The, uh, brand was infected…” Chad stopped talking at Earl’s feral growl.
    “Then they’re in hell where they belong.” Earl stood. “Bet the cyberstalker is either the murderer or the murderer’s accomplice. Could be some guy who bought the club’s records from the murderer. The club’s records would be ideal blackmail material. Don’t really fucking care. Whoever the stalker is … he’s history. The animals in the pictures? Are dead meat.”
    He stalked toward the back exit from the kitchen. “I need to check on Tessa.”
    Had to check on Tessa. Had to hold and kiss her. Kiss and caress the area on her hip where the bastard branded her. Had to tell