Chapter 49

49

Jason pulled up to imposing entry of Alex’s mansion, taken aback, again, by the magnificent home. Palm trees swayed lazily in the warm breeze, perfectly-cut lawns, a green that practically glowed, stretched out in front of every home on the street. The air itself felt different here—heavy with the scent of jasmine and car exhaust rather than pine and safe and snow-tinged mountain air.

Their worlds were so different. No way he’d ever feel at home in this concrete canyon. What if Alex, with her sleek, high-tech life, never wanted to leave?

Was he an idiot for even trying to kindle something with her?

He almost drove away, but her security cameras swiveled toward him. He’d come too far to let his faith wane now. Before he could talk himself out of it, he sprinted for the door and tapped the doorbell.

He drummed his fingers on his thighs, scanning the perimeter. Nothing but stunning grounds and high-priced vehicles rolling down the street. Just like the high-priced sportscar in her driveway. So she was home.

“Come on, Alex. I know you see me.”

Silence greeted him, broken only by the soft coo of doves. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention.

Something was off.

Alex’s security was tighter than Fort Knox on lockdown. Even if she wasn’t home, her security system would be pinging her phone.

Maybe she just didn’t want to see him.

His heart gave a painful twist before logic kicked in. No, that wasn’t her style. If she wanted him gone, she’d tell him straight, with a sharp quip and a door slam, not a cold shoulder.

He pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over Paige’s number. He could ask her to dig up contact info for Mac or Liv or Gabriel. But even as he made the call, a nagging voice in his head screamed that time was of the essence.

“Paige, I need you to—” he started, then cut himself off. “Actually, scratch that. I’ll check in later.”

He ended the call, ignoring Paige’s squawk of protest. His instincts were rarely wrong, and right now, they were blaring like a five-alarm fire. Whatever was happening inside, he needed to be there.

Yesterday.

He circled the front of the property, his eyes scanning for any potential entry points. He tested every ground-level window, hoping for a stroke of luck.

No dice.

“Alright, Plan B it is,” he muttered, eyeing the side fence that blocked entry to the back of the home. Eight feet high and thick, plaster-covered concrete. Easily doable.

He backed away, taking a running leap. His fingers clamped down on the top, making it easy for him to hoist himself up and over. That ought to set off every one of her security alarms. Good. If Alex was around, this would definitely get her attention.

Landing with a soft thud on more manicured grass, he checked the backyard. No sign of Alex—or anyone else—lounging by the crystal-blue pool.

Alarms blared from speakers mounted in the eaves. He raced to the French doors.

Still, no signs of anyone. Something was very wrong.

He snagged a patio chair on his way past, intent on smashing his way inside. But just as he was about to slam it into the glass, the alarms ceased. A soft click echoed in the silence. The doors swung open.

Somehow, that didn’t ease his mind.

He drew his handgun, the cool metal a comforting weight in his hand. He stepped inside, every sense on high alert. The house was quiet. Too quiet.

The hidden door built into the wall that concealed a staircase leading down to RAVEN’s HQ stood ajar. Alex prided herself on attention to detail. And security. No way she would have left it ajar.

Heart pounding, he flew down the stairs. The sight that greeted him knocked the breath from his lungs. Alex lay sprawled on the floor, her hand resting on the security console.

“Alex!” He knelt beside her, checking for a pulse. A strong, steady rhythm beat beneath his fingertips.

He closed his eyes for an instant. Thank you, Lord .

Alex’s eyelids fluttered open, her dark eyes unfocused and cloudy. “Jason? How ... you’re here?”

“I’m here. What happened?” He helped her sit up, supporting her weight.

Her words came out slurred, fragmented. “Gabriel ... betrayed ... knocked me out ...”

“Your cousin?” Jason frowned, pieces of the puzzle not quite fitting.

Alex’s next words sent a chill down his spine. “Wants me … dead. Bombs … Run. Just … run.”

His eyes darted around the room, landing on unfamiliar wires snaking near the computer stations.

“Explosives. This place is rigged to blow.”