Chapter 7 | "You founded this club, darling?"

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"That's where it gets complicated", the organizer for this meeting says, and I look at him, fumbling. There was more to the story that I didn't know. "The girls in the story were raped, yes, but there is something in the story that makes it much more complicated as it happened."

"What?", I ask on the edge of my seat, wanting to know. I feel a leg in between mine, and before I know it, the leg moves the bottom half of my body back, which prompts me to lean back in my chair. I look down to find the converse-clad shoe in between my feet, and I look up to find that it belongs to Jameson. I continue to look at him, but he doesn't look as me as he says, "The person who was raping the girls was one who was being told to do so."

My heart stops at the words.

Lift her skirt up. Is she looking at you? Make sure she is looking at you.

No, no, no, no, no

Not now. Now that I just had a nice day, No fucking way. I couldn't do this. This case was very similar to and very near my heart. No.

"That leads us to believe there is a man responsible for the rapes, one who, at the end of the day, wasn't even touching the girl but was the one in control", the guy beside me continues, his hand resting casually on the back of my chair. I was glued to my spot, my back hitting his arm slightly. I couldn't move; I couldn't breathe. "Ivory", I hear a whisper, and the clouded thought goes away. I shake my head.

I'm better now; I am no longer there. I am no longer in a space where I couldn't get out. I was safe here. I look around and meet a pair of brown eyes. "Oh, that's crazy", I whisper because I thought that would be the correct answer. Jameson nods and says, "Very fucking messed up."

Agent Hopper looks at Jameson pointedly for the profanity but doesn't comment on it. He clasps his hands together and places them on the table in front of him. Leaning forward, he says, "We are dealing with a serial rapist who, at the end of the day, is the one in control."

"The earliest case was only a year ago", Jameson continues, and then looks down at the watch on his wrist-one that looks expensive yet worn out. "One year ago, just this weekend."

Want to go out on a camping trip this weekend, Ivy?

"How do we know that they are all connected?", I ask, looking through the papers now, ignoring my racing heart.

"Like I said, the descriptions, the way the girls were raped, they all make sense", Jameson says, and I keep my eyes on the paper, not bothering to look at him. I skim through the pages, but as I am about to flip the page, a large hand is placed on top of the paper.

"As the captain of this club", Jameson starts, his hand the one that was on my paper, but is interrupted by one of the guys beside me. The one that first talked to me today once I came here

"As the founder of the club", the guy says, and I remember that he told me his name is Jacob. I asked him if I could call him Jake, and he said over his dead body, so guess who is stuck with being called Ob? I wasn't exactly sure how to pronounce it; I may just call him corn-on-the-cob. If I were him, I would prefer it instead of the Ob option. The sentence he said literally registers in my head, and I turn around in my seat, my body fully positioned in front of Jameson's.

My knee hits his thigh, but I don't care about that. "You founded this club, darling?" The guy in front of me itches his jaw at the nickname. I didn't mean to say it; it just slipped out. Jameson just seemed like the type of guy who needed these nicknames. He clears his throat and says, "Yeah, beginning of last year."

"I want to know more about that", I tell him, as if we were going to talk more about it later. I wanted to, but I knew he didn't want to. I respected that, but Jameson was just an amazing guy. From what I learned from the stalking I did, He nods at me, and the way he makes eye contact with me makes it seem as though we will talk about it later. I cross my legs in hopes that it will be true. There had to be a story about how a club like this was formed.

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