Laughing, I shake my head and take another sip of my wine. “The night that I went out with her was their first date—or kind of date anyway, because he had friends with him, but so did she.”

“What was your impression of him?”

“He was nice enough. He was a little much for my taste, but Carly didn’t seem to mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, he just seemed very familiar with her, even though they’d just —like placing her basically on his lap at the bar and calling her his when his friends showed up and he introduced us.”

“You didn’t like that?”

I know that question has nothing to do with Carly and Matthew. “It seemed strange with him. He just met her a few minutes before, and had only known her online earlier, so the claim seemed out of place.” I shrug. “But, again, Carly loved it, so I don’t know.”

“Did she have any other friends?”

“She mentioned her best friend from back home but no one else that I can think of.”

“What about her family?”

“Are you taking notes for you brothers?”

He steps into my space. “Tomorrow.” His voice is softer than it was, almost soothing. “When you go to the station to give your official report, you might not feel as comfortable or as relaxed as you do right now. Talking about things with me will help you prepare for what you’ll be asked.”

“Do your brothers and you talk about the cases they work often?” I ask because I know my dad never spoke or speaks about his work, at least not with my sisters or me, and I don’t believe he talks to my mom about them either.

“Can you handle a little honesty?”

When I nod, he places his beer on the counter then his hands wrap around my waist, and he lifts me off my feet. As soon as my ass hits the top of the island, he uses his hips to spread my legs apart.

When he’s got me completely caged in with his hands on my thighs his eyes lock on mine. “I told you that Miles, Tucker, and Dayton are my foster brothers.”

I nod.

“We also had a sister growing up. We were all close, then one day we found out that she was being adopted. When she left to live with her new family, she stayed in touch and would send us letters constantly, telling us about her new life.” His jaw clenches. “Then those letters dried up and we lost contact with her, and no matter how often, or who we asked, we couldn’t find out if she was okay.”

“Clay,” I whisper, reaching up to touch his jaw and he captures my hand then touches his lips to it before placing it on my thigh and covering my hand with his.

“When we all eventually aged out of the system, we went searching for her. That’s when we found out that, when she was fifteen, she started talking to someone online, and over the course of a few months, they convinced her to meet up. That was the last time she was seen until she was picked up by the police almost two years later alive but not well, she was hooked on drugs and being pimped by some low life drug dealer after being trafficked out of state by the person she’d been talking to online.”