When Shane came out of the next memory his fingernails were digging into his palms, aching.
Someone with drugs.
Boyd had mentioned him when she laid out her sexual history, and this had to be the man. Total disregard for her feelings. One more person rejecting her, after getting her high and having sex with her. And he didn't even care what he'd done. It didn't even phase him.
Shane paced around his apartment. If he had any indication, any at all, he would be going to find the person whose memory he'd just seen. As such they were very, very lucky they were no one he knew. If the shape of the apartment and the chandelier were any indication, however, it was likely a penthouse, the ceiling too high for it to be one of the regular apartments.
He would wait. He would wait, and figure out who that had been, and show them what happened when you treated women--treated Boyd--like trash.