LUKE

I shake my head in disbelief again. Did that really just happen? I mean, of course I know it did. I was standing right there. It’s like a switch was flipped in her head and she decided there was no other option other than for me to leave.

I’m confused. I’m angry. I’m terrified she’s going to end up dead and I’m going to live with the regret that there was more I could do to save her, if only she’d let me. My phone vibrates in my pocket and it’s the last damn thing I need right now.

I reach down to retrieve my phone and there’s a text message:

 

213-555-7373: So close, yet so far, though you were warned about trying to be the white knight. Pack up your armor and go home before you end up caught up in a perilous game.

 

I squeeze the phone so hard in my hand that I fear I’m going to crush it. Whoever is fucking with me is going to pay when I find out who it is, but the fact that they can rhyme is cute, I guess. The pieces of evidence are piling up that Ella’s stalker—or whatever the case may be—has something to do with the messages I’m receiving, but as far as I can tell, we have nothing that connects us together.

Still standing outside Ella’s door, I briefly consider knocking to get her attention once more, but there’s already too much on my plate. She’s basically done me a favor because now I can focus my attention where it belongs, on figuring out who my secret admirer is. She obviously has issues, but if she’s not going to let me help, then there’s nothing more I can do right now. I can’t force my way into her life or through her front door, not without picking up some charges of my own.

I pack up my pride and make a quick exit off her porch and out of her neighborhood.

 

# # #

 

I forced myself to be content with leaving Ella behind, but on the long car ride back over to the hideout, overthinking got the best of me. I tried to decipher what’s going on from every angle, but as a man on the outside of whatever it is that she’s going through, nothing seemed to make sense.

She has to know more than she’s letting on, I mean, that much is obvious. You don’t go from willingly hiring a security expert to firing them just as quickly. There’s more to the story, and even though it’s technically none of my business anymore, I’m determined to get to the bottom of it, if only because I’d never be able to live with the regret if something should happen to her.

I pull into the gravel lot and park beside Marcus’s car. As soon as I kill the engine, my feet hit the gravel and I slam the door shut behind me. I make quick work getting inside the building, going into the office on the right and then heading into the secret elevator situated at the back of the room.

The retina scanner scans my eyes, and then the gears begin turning as I’m lowered down into the secret hideout of the basement. When the elevator doors sling open, the first thing I see are the twins sparring with each other on the training mats. It’s been a good two months since I’ve seen either of them and I’m curious as to where they’ve been.

They’re both shirtless and sweaty, too preoccupied with throwing punches at each other to notice that I’m approaching. I drop down onto my ass and cross my legs waiting for them to notice me with a sly grin on my face. When they do finally notice me, both in unison, they turn to me with the same shit-eating grin.

“Nice to see you boys are back,” I say. “Now, care to tell me where the hell you’ve been?”

“It’s actually top secret,” Zane says, as he begins to approach, his brother Zach staying put in the back. They both are equally tan with the same emerald eyes and buzzed-cut hair. The only way I’m able to tell them apart is by the tone of their voices and the fact that Zane has a scar from a knife wound just beneath his left breast. “But let’s just say that we’ve been soaking up sun in the Caribbean.”

“Yeah,” I cock my head. “That doesn’t sound like work.”

“You’re right, Luke,” Zach says, joining his brother at his side. “But let’s keep that on the downlow because Dom thinks we’ve been gathering intel, when in fact we just needed a break after the Seth Grimm disaster.”

“I thought that was taken care of.” I lift myself to my feet, using my hands as leverage against the hard floor. “I thought that after you two basically blew up that building downtown that things were over…you know, since Seth Grimm is dead.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Zane says.

“The problem being that Seth Grimm is dead,” Zach adds.

“And his people aren’t too pleased,” Zane says.

“In fact, they’re kind of pissed,” Zach says.

“And they’re out for blood,” Zane says.

“Out for our blood, so we needed to escape the heat,” Zach says.

“So, we escaped to the Caribbean for some relaxation,” Zane says.

“For some booze, weed, and chicks,” Zach says.

“I’m going to need both of you stop it right now,” I say, staring them both down one at a time.

“Stop what?” they both question in unison with the exact same pitch and exact same tone, perfectly demonstrating what I just told them to stop doing.

“That finishing each other’s sentence thing is cute in high school, but your grown-ass adults.” I clear my throat and cross my arms over each other. “Now tell me more about these Caribbean girls.”

Zane models his left hand by holding it up and waving it in my face. “Well, neither of us got married…so there’s that.”

“Right, because you’re both such eligible bachelors,” I scoff jokingly. “It’s good to see you guys back in the game.”

“Same, bro.” Zach offers me a fist bump, and then his brother does the same. “But just so we’re clear, the official story as far as Dom is concerned is that we were doing intel.”

“Right,” I chuckle and roll my eyes. “I’m sure he’s going to believe that.”

“Uh, guys,” Marcus yells from behind me, stealing my attention as I twist around to face him. When I first walked in, I hadn’t even seen him there at the monitors. “We have a problem.”

“What?” I race towards the monitors, the two brothers following closely behind me. The three of us circle the desk and take a look at the camera footage on the computer screens. I’m half expecting for this to have something to do with Dom again, but my gut feeling is that it’s something far worse.

I lean over Marcus’s shoulder, squinting to get a better view at a small box in the bottom half of the screen until he zooms in on the black and white footage. It’s a man on a motorbike with a black helmet. That’s suspicious enough as it is because nobody comes out to this abandoned factory unless they’re here for us or with us.

I point my finger against the screen, hovering just around the motorbike’s license plate. “Zoom in.”

“Why?” Marcus questions, all the while not hesitating to do as told.

A second later and the video zooms in once more so that I’m able to read the license plate that reads simply: CAT.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath before I’m racing off to the elevator, leaving the three men behind. Zane races towards me, but the elevator closes before he can reach me.

I’m impatient, as the elevator rises through the shaft. I need to get my hands on that man because it’s too much of a coincidence that the same bike that was at Ella’s is now outside my place of work. He must have somehow dipped behind me and followed me here. Now, I’m thinking that the man wasn’t there for Ella, but instead he was there for me. His license plate might read CAT, and in the grand scheme of things, something tells me that this man thinks he’s the cat. Well, he’s about to be the damn mouse.

As soon as the elevator lands at ground floor, I tear out of the shaft and race out of the office and out of the factory. Just as I do so, the motorbike spins out against the gravel, sending shards of rocks into the air.

I make the split-second decision to jump into my car and give chase. By the time the door is closed, I’m already peeling out backward and then throwing the car into gear. I don’t even care that gravel is being thrown all over the back of my new car.

He’s got a good head start, but I’m not about to let him get away. He’s been harassing me for the better part of two months now, and I’m going to figure out why, even if it means totaling my car in the process.

The gravel parking lot gives way to paved roads as I careen around a sharp corner. The man ahead weaves in and out of traffic, something I’m unable to do. I slam on my horn to warn the civilians to get out of my way, but they don’t abide. So, I wait for my opening and take it, crossing over into opposing traffic so I can pass an elderly couple in a minivan.

The motorbike takes a sharp right at the red light ahead, almost being taken out by a black SUV in the process. All the while, I’m stuck behind a line of three cars and there’s too much traffic in the other lane to pass. I look for an escape route and the only available option is a narrow alley to my right, formed between two, tall, brick buildings.

I whip the steering wheel to the right and jump up onto the sidewalk first and then race down the alley. The right-side mirror scrapes against the brick exterior and sparks before being ripped off by the friction against the rough surface. Just up ahead, I see the bike racing down the street at the opposite end of the alley.

My foot pushes the pedal to the metal and I pray silently under my breath that there’s no traffic at the end of this alley. Once I reach the end of the slim alley, I ramp off the curb and almost lose control as I fight with the wheel to make a hard, right turn to give the biker chase.

He cocks his head over his shoulder as I give chase and then pushes the limits of his engine even further. He races forward, weaving around a school bus. That’s when I hear the distinctive howling of a train in the near distance. My eyes search the road ahead and see a train about to steamroll through an intersection.

And the man on the bike? He’s got nerves of steel or a death wish. I guess we’ll see which one it is. He races even faster, trying to outrun the train across the tracks, but he’s never going to make it.

Just as the bike hops the tracks, the train blasts its horn. There’s about to be an explosion, but there’s nothing. Just the train blasting through the intersection. I come to a stop just in front of the train and try to get a peek through the space between cargo cars.

That’s when I see the man on his feet with his bike perched at his feet. He must have crashed when landing, but he’s standing tall, so that means the son-of-a-bitch is still alive. It’s like he’s taunting me from the other side, knowing I can’t get to him.

My eyes shift to the back of the train, but there’s no end in sight. I guess that’s one of the downsides to working in the industrial part of town. He got away this time, but next time he won’t be so lucky.

I watch him as he picks his bike up off the asphalt and hops back on.

 

# # #

 

I’m stewing with rage as I exit the elevator back into the hideout. The twins and both Marcus are standing there to greet me, wanting to know what happened and why I raced away as fast as I could.

“What was that about?” Zane questions, arms crossed over each other. “You darted out of here like a bat out of hell?”

I force a smile and pretend as if it’s nothing. The only person I’ve confided in when it comes to the texts I’ve been receiving is Chase, and I don’t want to drag the rest of the boys down with my own personal bullshit. “I thought it was something and it turned out to be nothing.”

“Are you sure?” Zach cocks a curious brow. “Because that didn’t look like nothing.”

“Yeah, I had a nice talk with the guy.” I lay a palm on his shoulder. “I actually scared the hell out of him.”

“Yeah.” Zach rolls his eyes. “Because you’re so scary.”

Marcus clears his throat from beside me. “Luke, do you mind if I talk to you for a second?”

“Yeah,” I turn to him. “What’s up?”

He scratches at his nose and pushes his glasses upwards. “Alone.”

I nod and follow him back to the monitors. He drops down into his chair and then spins to face me. “Remember how you told me to look up this woman, Ella Gold last night after you received a phone call from her?”

“It was just last night, so yeah, I have a recollection.”

“Right.” He swallows nervously. “Well, you asked me to find everything I could find about her, and I found something.”

Consider me intrigued. Hope it’s something good and more importantly, something useful. “Yeah, what?”

“She doesn’t exist.”

There’s a bout of silence as I try to process what exactly he’s trying to say. I push my tongue against my cheek, contemplating. Trying to make sense of things I can’t make sense of.

“What do you mean she doesn’t exist?”

“She exists in the flesh.” He brushes one hand through his hair and then folds his hands together nervously. “And she exists in the present, but there’s no record of her dating back before she was twenty-one.”

“Then who is she?”

“I don’t know.” He glances upwards at me. “The question is, do you really want to find out?”

Do I want to find out? At the moment, I’m not entirely sure. But you can bet your ass I’m going to find out because she’s already dragged me into her mess. And whatever the consequences of that, that’s on her. Not me.

I dig Ella’s letters out from my back pocket and hand them to him.

“What’s this?” he questions, looking up to me. “Love letters?”

I smack him against the back of the head. “These are the letters she’s been receiving.”

“What do you want me to do with them?”

“I know the answer most likely, but I want to see if you can get any fingerprints off them.”

“Yeah…” He mutters and pushes them to the side of his desk. “I can look into it for you.”

I drop a palm on his shoulder and offer him a playful squeeze. “Good.”