31

The calm I felt less than fifteen minutes ago has vanished. The tension has returned with a vengeance and my shoulders are grazing my earlobes. My brows are furrowed, practically knitting a fucking sweater with my eyebrow hairs. I can't, for the life of me, remain positive. How can I? The little girl being sold can't even look at the camera. Her fear is palpable, and I feel it in my fucking bones. She's probably wondering where her mommy is—alone, hungry, frightened.

My eyes sting and tears threaten to pool out. I bite the inside of my lip until I taste copper and I hear the tablet crinkle in my hands.

Jason's voice rings loudly in my ears. "Okay, Justice. Your third party will be on the line in five, four, three—"

"I can't do this… why is getting a file important anymore? Fuck Carlton. Fuck all of this! What's going to happen to this little girl?"

I don't know who I'm talking to. Dylan? Olivia? Jason? Piper, who I can hear breathing into my ear? But it's Dylan who approaches me in the empty corridor. He presses me against the wall and grabs my shoulders in his strong hands. His hold is secure but gentle, and it forces me to look up into his night-sky eyes.

He reaches up and unclasps the chain from my wrist and removes his collar. His hands are back on me and they hold me tight. "We're going to get the file because we need all the evidence we can get our hands on to make sure Carlton doesn't get away with this. It's happened before, too many times. If we don't do this, he'll be out in less than twenty-four hours. He's got the best fucking lawyers money can buy."

"But what about the little gir—"

"I will get her out. I swear to you, Niki. And any others they have."

Olivia comes into view then, and Dylan moves when she gently pushes her way in front of me. He stands next to me and pulls me into his chest. Olivia grabs both my hands and squeezes them, and I realize they're freezing. "Jasmin and I will locate their prisoners. We aren't sure if they're kept on the premises just yet. But the remote location and all the bells and whistles tell me they're here. You focus on the file."

"Olivia—"

"Jase, don't." Olivia's voice is clipped and stern. "You stay with Justice, and Sara will monitor our part."

Miles away, Jason punches something. We all hear it and Olivia's shoulders jerk painfully, but she straightens and takes three steps back, giving Jas the space to embrace me.

"Todo va a salir bien," she tells me in Spanish.

"Cómo puedes estar segura?"

Jas shakes her head. "I don't know. I'm not sure of anything, but… what I am certain of is that I can"t stand back and do nothing."

I nod in agreement, and we hug like when we were little girls. "Be safe," we say in unison and almost laugh. If the moment weren't filled with such dark tension, one of us would've called jinx and erupted in a mischievous giggle.

I think Jason is talking Olivia's ear off because she hugs herself and whispers hastily until I hear her demand he patch Sara through. Her hands drop to her side and she looks at Dylan and they nod at one another. "I'll see you on the other side, carnalito."

Dylan chuckles dryly at Olivia. "In one piece, Liv."

Jasmin leaves my arms and joins her, and they walk in the opposite direction. Olivia is already conversing with Sara, who is guiding them to a cellar hidden from current floor plans, but was in the original blueprints of The Mansion. I watch them turn the corner and lean against the wall.

Jason's anger reverberates through the earpiece, and I get the urge to pull it further away from me. His voice chills the air around me. "Your third party remains on the line."

For a second, I forgot she was there. "You heard all that?"

"It's fine. Even I question the sanity of this ridiculous mission. But your man is right: Carlton will get away without the file."

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. "It better be one helluva file."

"I promise you it is."

I twirl my mother's charms up and down the metal rope bracelet. "Did Jason share our location?"

"Yep. I even have a live feed of where you're currently standing. Your friends have very fancy equipment. You should utilize their help for your blog, kid."

Next to me, Dylan's brows shoot up in question. But I roll my eyes and scoff. "Right. Well, tell us where to go."

I wish I would've worn my sneakers. Fuck these heels.

"How much longer?" We've been dodging staff and ducking cameras for a good fifteen minutes, and we still need to get to another floor.

"There's a service elevator at the end of the hall."

Dylan and I jog down the long corridor and stop in front of the metal door. There's a keyhole and an electric keypad. Piper gives us the code and a loud ding echoes down the hall as the doors swoosh open. My stomach drops and presses against my lower organs, making me queasy. I reach out and squeeze Dylan's forearm, digging my nails into his flesh. Crescent moons appear below my fingertips and I rub against the dips before the doors open.

Dylan's arm shoots out in front of me like a fucking seatbelt and he exits first, slowly. He crouches and steps out, examining the area, and I follow closely behind.

It's a kitchen.

"It should be empty. I made sure to give you a five-minute window."

The small kitchen looks out of place. It's outdated, plain, and too neat. Quiet and alone, as if shunned by the rest of the house.

Piper's voice leads us past the kitchen and into a bedroom. It looks like a motel room. It's tidy, empty of personal artifacts. Generic and bland. It even smells of cleaning products and a faint scent of vanilla mixed with coffee beans. I don't know how, but immediately I know who this space belongs to.

A white desk with a lamp and simple office supplies sits directly in front of the bed. Piper directs me to it, and I flip the switch on the lamp to illuminate the space.

"The stapler."

What?Dylan and I share a look. He lifts up the metal, heavy duty stapler and turns it in his hands before opening it.

He removes the staples and shrugs. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it's a regular stapler. Piper chimes in and responds to my unspoken questions.

"Carefully pop off the top."

Dylan does what she says, and I lean forward to peek inside. Nestled against the cool metal, a tiny USB sits secured by a strip of transparent tape.

"Once you take out the USB, replace the top, and try to put it back exactly as it was. Leave everything the way it was."

I turn off the desk lamp and scan the room once more. I'd bet my right hand and left eyeball that this space belongs to Charles. Dylan hands me the USB and puts the stapler back in its place. The tiny cuboid feels heavy in my palm, and I tuck it into the sticky adhesive supporting my large breasts. Dylan licks his lips and stalks toward me, but I lift up a finger and shake it slowly.

He's crazy if he thinks this is an ideal spot to get lucky. As much as I love losing myself in his arms and expert touch, I've never wanted to get the hell out of place more than I do this instant.

"Guide us out, P."

In the same moment Piper begins to give us directions toward a different exit, Jason's manic voice fills our ears.

"Olivia and Jasmin were ambushed, D. Four men got to them as they entered the level Sara believes the prisoners are being held in. They tried to sweet talk their way out of it, saying they were lost, but the guys didn't buy it."

Dylan swears under his breath and shoves me toward the elevator entrance we just came through. Piper's voice doesn't return. Jason probably cut her call, finding her guidance meaningless now that my best friend and his girlfriend have been apprehended.

"I can't just sit here, Dylan. I'm headed your way."

"No!" Dylan barks. "We got what we came for. Send Mike my approval to enter the premises. Give them the coordinates of the victims" location."

I can practically feel Jason bristle with anger. "What about Olivia?"

We're in the elevator and time slows. It cannot be moving any fucking slower. Dylan sighs heavily and holds me close. "Jason, I won't leave without her. You have my word."

The doors slide open and we step out and rush down the hall.

"Mike and the team are approaching on foot. They have the premises surrounded. The chopper should be there in three minutes. When the lights go out, that's the signal that our team is in."

Jason's robotic tone clouds my vision, and I twirl around and smack into Dylan. "Team?"

"I have orders to shut this place down, little fox. That's what I do."

I take a step back. This was nothing but a job to him, and he used me to get in. "You lied to me!"

Dylan reaches for my arm quicker than I can register his movements and pulls me to continue down the hall. "I never lied to you. I understood the danger. Did you expect to waltz in and out of here without any issues?"

I can't answer his ridiculous question. He's being an asshole. Of course I didn't, but I would appreciate him being entirely open about what he plans to do. He completely took over and drew advantage from the situation. He used my ticket, involved his whole fucking team, and in two minutes, the entire place will be surrounded by fucking cops.

He didn't trust me enough to clue me in. As if I'm some idiot incapable of understanding and agreeing to a decision based on better judgment and the best route when going undercover. I pull my arm from his grip and lean my hand against the wall to slip my heels off.

Dylan moves to grab me, and I lift up my shoe. "Touch me and I'll fucking stab you with this heel."

Dylan suffocates me with his looming presence, and in less than one second, he presses his entire frame against me. "I don't give a fuck if you bury both your heels in me. I won't risk your safety. Pull away again and I'll throw you over my shoulder."

I glare at him. "You wouldn't dare."

My arm is encased in his iron grip. "Don't tempt me, little fox."

I shake my head and let him pull me away. His strides are long and hurried, and I struggle to keep up. I'm practically jogging. One of his steps is five of mine. If Jasmin wasn't possibly in trouble, I'd throw my shoe at his head. I knew I couldn't fully trust a fucking cop.

"Forty-five seconds." Jason's voice is all business.

I suck in a breath. I can't believe this fucking mess.

"Niki, listen to me. We leave the way we came–together. I don't care if you're angry at me, but now isn't the time to misjudge the situation. I would never let anything happen to y—"

"Watch out!" My warning comes two seconds too late.

Dylan's body crashes to the ground in a deafening thud and it takes my soul with him. I'm screaming, but I can't hear a sound. A man built like a fucking mountain kicks Dylan in the stomach and I lunge forward, but strong arms hold me in place. I throw my shoes at Dylan's attacker, and he turns.

"Get this crazy bitch out of here," he yells.

I flail like a fish out of water, and I claw at the arms pulling me backwards. I yell Dylan's name. Not for him to rescue me, but because I need to see him move, I need confirmation that he's still conscious. His shoulders elevate slightly, and I smile just in time to see his sharp cheekbones lift up. His coal eyes meet mine when a sharp stab collides with the back of my head, and then everything goes black.

I wish it were because I was swallowed by the twin black holes that I'm sure live behind Dylan's eyes, but I'm afraid it's something closer to death than the life he offers.