CHAPTER EIGHT

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- NOW -

I’D NEVER BEEN to Kellan’s apartment before.

It was exactly like I’d imagined. Modern, functional, and minimalistic. There was an open floor plan across the apartment. A sleek kitchen area that looked barely used took up one side of the apartment and was divided from the living area by a kitchen island that had three stools in front of it. There was a massive flat screen on one wall, and a mini-bar against another.

As soon as I stepped inside the apartment, I smelled Kellan. His smell, his scent, was all over the place. But there were no pictures on the walls, nothing that really made the place feel homely. It was a bachelor pad through and through.

“What?” Kellan said from beside me. I turned towards him, surprised to find his eyes already trained on me.

He leaned against a wall, arms crossed casually over his chest. He’d shrugged out of his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, showing off the muscles on his forearms.

“Have you made any changes since you moved in?” I asked teasingly, as I moved further into the apartment. The place looked like a showroom apartment; stylish yet unused.

“Not really.” Kellan shrugged.

“Not really?”

“The flat-screen,” he clarified. Boys and their toys. I rolled my eyes. Seeing my face, he said, “I’m hardly here, ballerina. I come here to sleep, shower, and occasionally eat. That’s pretty much it.”

“That’s... sad,” I said truthfully.

“It’s more than I ever thought I’d have so don’t pity me, princess. With the way I was living my life in high school and after I turned eighteen... my life wasn’t headed towards a good place. It certainly wasn’t headed here. I’d probably still be on the streets or back to doing all sorts of illegal shit to get my hands on some cash,” Kellan said, taking my backpack from me. “You want something to drink?” he asked as though he hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary.

“Um... sure.” I cleared my throat, realizing that my mouth had been hanging open a little. Even though I’d already known most of what he’d said, I hadn’t heard it directly from him. He’d never been one to share. “I’ll have some coffee.”

“At this time?” He raised an eyebrow. It was almost one o’clock in the morning.

I shrugged, trailing after him into the kitchen. He flipped a light switch as he moved, more spotlights in the kitchen turning on. Thinking about what Kellan had said, I imagined it was a huge accomplishment for him to have this place.

Hell, it would be a mammoth achievement for anyone his age. Most twenty-three-year-olds were riddled with debt from college, or just starting out in life. Kellan had rented his old apartment, but he owned this one.

He’d dug himself out of the hole he’d been in, and he’d thrived. Kellan had started off living on the streets, and I could only imagine how desolate life must have been for him, how bleak his future must have looked, back then. It was remarkable how far he’d come. It was something to be proud of.

He moved around the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards as he looked for coffee.

“Don’t you know where things are in your own apartment?” I asked incredulously.

He glanced over his shoulder at me, and shrugged. “I don’t really have a place for anything. I just put things away in any cupboard that I can find space in. Haven’t been here for a while so I can’t remember where I last left things.” I shook my head in disbelief, and mentally planned to organize his cupboards for him first chance I got. “My laptop’s on the couch. You can boot it up while I make the coffee.”

I did just that, suddenly antsy to learn what was on the flash drive.

Kellan joined me moments later, passing me a steaming mug of coffee. I accepted it, stilling when I noticed Kellan’s eyes dip down to my bare legs. The jumper I still wore was long enough to cover my shorts, giving the impression that I wasn’t wearing anything on underneath, and had ridden up as I crossed my legs.

His doorbell rang then, making him jump.

He got up to answer the door, his face having blanked, and I gulped my coffee like it was a lifeline.

I put the mug down and shoved the flash drive into the USB port on the left side of the laptop, pausing when I heard a female voice at the door. Kellan’s body blocked my view of the visitor, but I could hear her loud and clear.

“–thought I heard you come in. I haven’t seen you much these past few weeks. Well, even less than usual,” she said, her laugh low and sultry.

I shifted awkwardly on the couch, an uncomfortable knot forming in the pit of my stomach. Who was she? I hadn’t ever known Kellan to have a serious girlfriend, just a fleet of random girls that I never saw him with more than once.

I watched Kellan shuffle his feet. “That’s very... nice of you, Melanie. But I’m really tired, and I was just headed to bed.”

Relief immediately filled me at his curt attitude. I didn’t know what Kellan would sound like with a girl that he was seriously interested in – and to be honest, I never really wanted to find out – but I imagined that he wouldn’t be half as brusque as he was being now. His attitude bordered on rude.

After a few more words, Kellan shut the door and slumped against it.

“Another Stacey? Can’t shake her off?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Stacey had been this girl he’d hooked up with shortly after he’d moved in with us. It had been what effectively killed off any last remnants of my crush on him. She hadn’t taken him seriously when he said he wasn’t interested in a girlfriend, and had turned up at the house every day for at least three weeks hoping for another shot at him.

He cleared his throat as he came back to the couch, and if I wasn’t mistaken there was a definite flush in his cheeks.

“She’s married,” Kellan said flatly.

“What?” I was appalled.

“I’ve never been there, princess, nor will I ever. I guess you could say that I’m... possessive when it comes to my relationships,” Kellan said, his grey eyes turning stormy. They looked primal. Seductive. I glanced away.

“What do you think is on here?” I asked, looking down at the laptop.

Being here with Kellan… it made earlier on tonight feel so far away. But I couldn’t go back there with Kellan, back to that place where my feelings had overwhelmed me. I’d been a little kid last time with a one-sided crush, but I’d still been left burned. I imagine I’d be left shattered now.

There was a moment of silence. “I haven’t got a clue,” he finally said. “Here.”

He pressed a button, and the contents of the flash drive appeared on the screen. There were files after files. Folder after folder.

This was going to take a while.

All the files and folders were named with an assortment of random five digit numbers and letters that made absolutely no sense to me. I decided that starting at the beginning was a safe bet, and clicked on the first document.

It was a list.

There must have been dozens, if not hundreds, of names recorded. Next to the names, there were columns that registered the occupations, home addresses, and photographs of the people listed. Curiously, I scrolled down the page.

Police officer. Lorry driver. Bounty hunter. Student... The list was endless, and there seemed to be no pattern at all that I could find that linked these men together. They all looked like ordinary people with ordinary jobs. Beside me, Kellan leaned closer and frowned at the screen.

“Try another document,” he said.

I closed the file, wondering if we’d made a big deal about the flash drive for no reason. So far, there didn’t seem to be anything of interest on it.

I opened up another document, and my stomach dropped when I realized what I was seeing. There were so many tables and information that looked like gibberish that it took me a moment to process what I was looking at. But when I did, I felt my stomach drop.

There were lists of products. Drugs and guns and stolen cars amongst others. Amounts of each shipment were listed, as well as times and places they needed to be dropped off or collected. There were addresses for warehouses, abandoned buildings, and deserted streets.

We’d stumbled upon an organized crime ring that was selling on the black market. I was sure of it.

I exchanged a wide-eyed stare with Kellan. “Am I really seeing what I think I’m seeing?”

“You sure are, princess.” He swallowed. “Fucking–”

“–hell,” I finished. “Did you know about this?”

“No. Fuck, no.” Kellan shook his head, his jaw working. “What the hell was Mario doing with this?”

“Good question,” I said, confusion settling in. Dad was fantastic at his job. He had a reputation for being a great bounty hunter and catching fugitives. But he wasn’t a detective, or a police officer. Unless this had to do with one of the guys he was tracking, it wouldn’t have been of much use to Dad. “Maybe it has to do with one of Dad’s cases?” I said uncertainly.

“That doesn’t explain why it was hidden at the bottom of his filing cabinet, or how those guys that broke in tonight knew your dad had it.”

“Do you think the police know? Maybe Dad got this information from Uncle Luke or another of his cop friends,” I suggested. We’d planned on handing the flash drive to the police after seeing what was on it, but perhaps they already had the information and that was how Dad had acquired it.

“I don’t know. Maybe,” Kellan acknowledged. “But where would the police get this information? They’d get it from the people behind this crime ring. If the guys that broke in tonight were involved with the crime ring, wouldn’t they already have this information? Maybe this is the only copy, and your dad managed to get a hold of it. Or maybe they found out he had this information and they didn’t want it getting out so they tried to get it back, which suggests that they had reason to believe that the cops didn’t have it. And that begs a whole other set of questions.”

“Do you think this had anything to do with Dad’s disappearance?” I asked, frowning at the screen.

“I think that’s a definite possibility, but I don’t see how just yet. Keep searching, ballerina. We might find something. We need to make a copy, too, and hand the flash drive in to the cops in the morning. If they already have the information, then there’s no harm done, but if they don’t–“

“–they must have it,” I interjected. “Even if Dad didn’t get this from the police, he would have handed it in to them as soon as he found it.”

“Then why would those men go to such great lengths to get it back? Something tells me that they wouldn’t break into a house to retrieve a flash drive if the police already had a copy of it.” Kellan shook his head. “Let’s just see what else is on the flash drive.”

“Fine.” I opened up another file, and Kellan and I both leaned forward as it loaded onto the screen.

It was a list – similar to the one I’d first viewed that had people’s names and information on it – but next to the occupational column, there was an additional one that listed what each person would be able to acquire, how much of it, and when it needed to be collected or delivered.

I looked back at the occupational column, seeing people such as teachers, shopkeepers, even cops, and lawyers listed. Looking at the products column, I could see that they were acquiring or distributing drugs and weapons, or engaged in money laundering.

These were real people out there. People who I’d maybe passed on the street. Cops.

I felt a flash of fear. Cops were supposed to be the good guys. The people we trusted. And some of them were in this... this crime ring.

Kellan looked completely floored beside me. “I need a drink,” he muttered. Getting up, he went to the mini-bar near the flat-screen and came back with a bottle of scotch.

“Well, at least that answers one question,” I said shakily. “The cops can’t know about this. There would have been an uproar if it was discovered that some of them were involved in organized crime. It would have been all over the media.”

Kellan nodded grimly.

Thinking of cops made me think of Uncle Luke. Was he on here somewhere? I almost didn’t want to carry on looking.

I didn’t understand any of this. Why hadn’t Dad handed the flash drive in to the police? Had he been too afraid? Surely, he could have found someone he trusted on the force, someone he knew wasn’t on the flash drive or a part of this crime ring.

Did this group have something to do with Dad’s disappearance? Did they take him to silence him?

Grief made it difficult to breathe. Fear made it hard to swallow. I wished I’d never opened this can of worm, wished I could still trust the people who were supposed to protect us all.

I reluctantly opened up another file, not sure if I wanted to see any more. I found copies of checks and amounts of cash that had exchanged hands. There was an inordinate amount of money being paid to people on the lists.

I couldn’t believe Dad had just been sitting on this information. It was huge. It was massive.

“Look at the name of the person who’s paying them.” I pointed at the screen. “Tony. Those men tonight mentioned him. I got the impression that they worked for him.”

Kellan looked contemplative. “It looks like he might just be the mastermind behind this operation.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe Mario didn’t say anything to me. Not a fucking word.”

“What… what do we do now? What do we do with this?” I gestured at the laptop.

“Let me think.” Kellan leaned forward so that his head was in his hands. I couldn’t see his face, but could practically hear the wheels in his mind turning.

“Maybe we could go to a cop that’s not mentioned on the list?” I asked. Just thinking about all the crooked cops out there terrified me.

“What if this flash drive isn’t up to date? What if more cops have been recruited? What if we end up approaching someone who’s involved?” he said, sounding pensive. His arms fell away, but he continued to frown thoughtfully at the floor.

I sighed. Going back to the laptop, I scrolled further down the list.

John Cavanaugh. Cop. Trace Melbourne. Student. Gabe Peters. Magistrate... The list went on and on.

I couldn’t believe these people. To do all this just for money? It was disgusting, especially since some of these people were supposed to be enforcing the law. I scrolled further down the list.

Mario Mansten. Bounty hunter.

No.

No. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. A choked sob escaped my lips as I stared at his name on the screen. On the file that listed criminals.

“Kellan,” I said, my voice hoarse. He glanced up and followed my eyes to the laptop.

I blinked hard at the screen, hoping his name wouldn’t still be there when I opened my eyes. Dad was... he was a bounty hunter. He was a good guy. He caught bad guys and put them behind bars. He couldn’t be a part of this.

But his name was still there. Clear as day. In black and white. And it explained why he hadn’t given the flash drive to the police.

A tear trailed down my cheek. Kellan was completely still next to me, not even blinking. I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t. I wished desperately that I’d run straight out of the house earlier on, instead of pausing to grab the flash drive. I longed to go back and erase it all so that I’d never have found out about what it contained.

I put the laptop down on the coffee table and stood up. I didn’t want to see anymore. I didn’t want to know anymore.

I realized I was breathing heavily, rethinking everything that I thought I knew about Dad. Rethinking the type of man he was.

The silence in the apartment was deafening.

Kellan looked at me, his face looking stunned and betrayed. He caught my gaze and his eyes shifted, his face clearing of emotion. I hated him for that – for hiding what he was feeling. I hated him for being able to do it so easily when the tears had yet to dry on my face.

He stood up too. “We don’t know for sure what this means–“

“I think it’s pretty fucking clear, don’t you?” I said bitterly, more tears flowing down my face. God, I hoped that there was another meaning. Another explanation. I hoped with everything in me.

I thought of Dad; the man who used to tuck me into bed every night before I went to sleep, the same man who couldn’t cook to save his lift but had spent hours in the kitchen trying to make me chicken soup when I’d gotten sick. My memories of Dad didn’t align with what that document claimed. Dad wasn’t a criminal. I couldn’t see him involved in any sort of organized crime. That wasn’t him.

It had to be a mistake. There had to be more to it.

“Maybe he was working undercover, or he could have...” Kellan struggled to come up with an answer and stared at me like he was trying to find the right words. He took in the tears on my face, and softly, almost hesitantly, his hand came up to my face, wiping my tears dry with his thumb. Stepping back, he dropped his hand. “It’s been a long night. You should get some sleep,” he said gruffly. “The guest bedroom is through there.”

He pointed at a door at the end of a short hallway. I gave him a wan smile, and picked up my backpack.

Suddenly wanting desperately to be alone and to think, I disappeared into the guestroom, well aware that I wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink tonight.