The Intern Serials: Complete Box Set by Brooke Cumberland, Sommer Stein, Rogena Mitchell-Jones

Drive by shooter. No helpful witnesses. Found six bullets.
    I try to think of how many times my dad was shot and how many shots I remember hearing. He was hit twice, which means four were missed—one grazed my shoulder, but I was nowhere near my father, which means the shooter barely slowed down as he drove past our house and shot out his window. He didn’t slow down as I originally thought—he could’ve cared less that there were three kids outside and in the way of his target.
    It makes sense as to why my sister only partially saw the license plate and how the neighbors hadn’t seen anything. Drive by. No stopping to make sure they even hit their target.
    I exit out and click on the witnesses’ folder. I know they spoke to my mother a few days after I was home from the hospital. She was a sobbing mess, but tried to keep it together for our sake.
    A friend of my mom was over when the detective came over to ask her questions. She took us out of the room, so I didn’t hear anything my mother told me, but this report outlined the conversation.
    She confessed that my dad was in debt to another man, but she claimed not to know who. My father had gotten into some financial issues and was working on re-paying him. She said it was months ago, and the report said police weren’t sure if they were linked or not to the shooting.
    Another part of the report said the bullets were analyzed by technicians and were being put through the database for any matches to another crime. I know from my previous research that this was to cross-analyze to other shootings, but the results weren’t posted in the report.
    I click out of the folder to search through the evidence folder when I hear footsteps in the hallway. I quickly click out of everything and hold in my breath, but my heart speeds up as I start plotting my way out of this.
    Without making the chair squeak, I quietly push backward and dip down underneath the desk. I squeeze under the desk and pull the chair in as much as possible. He can’t know I’m in here.
     
    *   *   *
     
     
     
    Bentley
     
    I wake up with the taste of her still in my mouth. The way her body tastes drives me insane. Everything about her makes me want more. The firmness of her breasts, the taste of her arousal on my lips, the way her body tightens around me has me desperately craving more of her.
    I’m thirsty as hell and decide I need to get up and grab something to drink. I roll over to kiss Ceci, but feel the cold bed under my hand instead. Her side is empty, and I start panicking that she’s left.
    My memory starts flashing back to the night’s events. My heart beats faster as I think about Ceci and her body pressed up against mine—her stunning face, mouth, and legs. She’s fucking gorgeous.
    The way she gave in to me, screamed for me, and released with me starts getting my cock hard again. If this is what being with Ceci is going to be like, I’m going to have a permanent boner.
    I find my briefs on the floor and put them on before going out the door. I stumble to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water. I chug the entire thing before throwing it out and start walking back down the hallway. I expect to see the bathroom light on, but it isn’t. I drove her here so she couldn’t have possibly left.
    Unless she snuck out purposely.
    The thought makes my blood boil. Leaving me like a one-night stand when I have clearly made her mine... My hands turn to fists as I walk down the hall to look for her.
    I open the bathroom door, but it’s empty.
    “Ceci?” I call. No response.
    I continue walking down to my office. The door is closed, but I step in anyway.
    The room is still and silent as I expect it to be, but I call for her again anyway. “Ceci, you here?”
    Nothing.
    Fucking A.
    Rage builds inside me as I imagine the worst. She fucking bailed.
    I start storming out of my office when something on the floor catches my eye.
    Part of my white sheet.
    It’s peeking underneath my desk. I look