Torn - Cynthia Eden Page 0,86
of all the red tape that came with the job. So you went independent, thinking you could make a difference, but it’s not that easy, is it? The dead keep coming, and you can’t seem to ever get ahead of the killers.”
“Don’t be so sure about that,” Wade murmured.
“You lost someone, obviously.” Now, North really seemed to be getting into his profile of Wade. “That was the tipping point for you. You followed the law, always did what was right, but the blood was too much. So you left the job, but you keep following that thin line—the line between right and wrong. You can’t cross that line. And you can’t allow others to do it, either. It’s just . . . not who you are.”
You don’t know me. Wade gave him a grim smile. “Dead on.” In your fucking dreams.
Victoria glanced toward Wade, a swift, worried stare.
Just keep him talking, baby. It’s bullshit. But let the guy feel confident. Because he had seen this routine dozens of times in interrogation rooms. Jackasses would get too confident, too cocky, and they’d spill all that they tried so hard to keep hidden.
“You can profile me, no problem.” Wade jerked his thumb toward Victoria. “What about her? What do you see when you look at her?”
Avid interest filled North’s eyes as his stare fixed on Victoria again. She stared back at him, looking nervous.
That look will work to our advantage. Good old Troy, he likes to feel in control.
“Always wanting to prove yourself,” North murmured. “You’ve been driven by that need your entire adult life, haven’t you? No one would believe you when you were younger, so you made sure they have to believe you now. You were the best one in your classes, you are the best in your field, and it’s all about proving your worth. Proving that others can believe you. But deep inside you always think . . . you’re still not good enough. Still the young girl who sat on that witness stand, with tears streaming down her cheeks as she swore her father had killed her mother. Only there was no evidence to back up your story. There was just you. And no one believed you.” He leaned forward. “That must have devastated you. I can’t imagine what it was like, going back to that house, with him, after you’d gone against him like that in court. It must have taken all that you had . . .”
I fucking hate this guy. It pretty much took all the self-control Wade had not to jump up and attack him. The shrink was practically salivating over Victoria. No, over her pain. This freak likes it.
Victoria had paled and her gaze dropped to her lap. Keep pushing him, baby. Because if she believed this was their guy, their chance to act was right the hell then.
“I knew living with him wasn’t going to be an option,” she said quietly.
“No, it wouldn’t be. All that rage he must have felt toward you.” North licked his lips. “Did he threaten to kill you? Because I’m thinking he did. I bet that he said you’d pay for turning on him. After all, you belonged to him, and then you went against him. You would need to be punished and—”
His stare slid to Wade.
The shrink stopped talking. His body jerked back and he swallowed nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
Shit. He saw . . . Wade knew the guy had just realized how much he wanted to rip him apart. So much for keeping his control. Victoria had been the one to play things perfectly but . . . I can’t play when it comes to her. Not anymore. Not even close.
North gave another of his high-pitched nervous laughs. “How’d I do?” His smile was too big and fake. “Think I’d make it at LOST? Maybe I could work with Dr. Jacobs. I could profile the victims while she took care of the perpetrators.”
Victoria was still looking down at her hands. “I don’t think you’re right for LOST.”
North’s nervous gaze darted to Wade.
Wade gave a slow, negative shake of his head. “Hell, no.” Then he was the one to lean toward the guy. “And you got a few things wrong, just so you know.”
“Wr-Wrong?”
“Yeah, things aren’t always black and white. Right and wrong . . . they can shift. Especially when someone you love is put into the equation.” Wade rose to his feet. He moved to the desk and leaned forward, slapping his