It was one night at the beach when a teenage boy washes up onto the shore, breathless, dazed and confused. No one knew who he was or where he'd come from. And Rowan Mercetti was willing to find out. But, she hadn't planned to set herself up for dang...
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PICTURE: MASON HAWTHORNE
Awakening on my mother's office room floor, felt more comfortable than in my room. Glancing at my phone I grasped the multiple missed phone calls from my father. I must've fallen asleep. It wouldn't be the first time I have fell asleep, on the floor, in here.
Stretching, I yawned rubbing the sleep out of my eyelids. Calling my father back rapidly. "Hello Dad?"
"Rowan? Were you asleep?" He wondered, his voice booming with concern and anxiousness.
"Yes. Is there something you need?" I asked, standing upwards and flickering the lights off, closing the office room door and entering my individual room.
He laughs shortly, probably at side conversation. "We need you back at the station, if you wouldn't mind."
Closing my eyes briefly, I take a mandatory deep breath. I was starting to think my life revolved around the station, maybe it was time for me too get a solid job. "Dad," I say, disappointment coloring my tone. "I'll do it."
"Great. Hawthorne will be there to pick you up in fifteen."
Exactly fifteen dreaded minutes later Mason was standing on my porch, with his white ball cap, pulled over his eyes and his Ashwood Police Department issued, black clad shirt tightly fitted, with a dainty smile.
"Someone call for an express shuttle?" He joked, stepping aside and waving his arm outward, letting me slide beside him and his dimpled simper.
"I rejected the call." I mummer locking the door behind me and walking beside Mason.
Mason pulled his eyebrows together with a playful smirk among his golden skin. "Mercetti, you don't give me enough credit."
Raising an eyebrow, I gave him a mischievous gaze. "That's because I only use debit."
Mason barks out in laughter kicking at a rock on the pavement with his shoes. Leaving our conversation behind, I walked through the opening in the fence and he follows swiftly. Pursing my lips, my footsteps falter and I come to a halt considering, the doors were in all likelihood, locked.
Slipping inside Mason's familiar vehicle, I instantly pulled my seat-belt over my chest. He placed the keys in the ignition and sped away.
"Why did my Dad call me in?" I asked firmly.
Our eyes locked in a challenge, he sighed. "That case I was telling you about earlier. A woman stepped forward, she was raped a few months ago by this lady killer."
"Lady killer?" I questioned finally, after a long pause, seemingly interested.
"That's what they are calling him. He rapes his victims and then he murders them." He remarked with a flat voice.
