7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Ghost

S takeouts used to be effortless. Observing people as they go through their day was as simple as breathing. If I were to guess, it was easy because I didn't care. It wasn't my job to care. My job was to learn their behavior, mold myself to integrate seamlessly into that environment, and execute the contract, whatever that meant.

Following Brielle to Boston Digital didn't feel anything like those contracts, and it is impossible not to care what happens to her. She is my shot at changing the future.

My only shot.

I had the vision again last night. I arrive at an apartment I've never been to and find the person I'm looking for missing. Instinctively, I know it's my Mate, though I don't know how I know this or whether we've Mated. I just know she's supposed to be there, but she isn't.

Flashes transport me to another scene where I'm walking into a trap. I get no context; I simply know that I've accepted that I will be captured or killed. Brielle's face flashes into my mind, and she speaks so clearly that it's as if she is in front of me.

"This is your chance, Casper. The keycard is attached to his belt loop and secured in his front pocket. We're running out of time."

She disappears, and I find myself alone in an interrogation cell, silver cuffs at my wrists and a solid silver chain connecting me to the wall. Someone enters, and I spot the lanyard immediately. The man doesn't speak, and I don't get to see his face before it flashes again, and I'm running out of a building, blood covering my hands, which clutch the keycard.

Dante drives up, and I pass the card to Cain in the passenger seat before pivoting to jump in the back of a second black SUV. Immediately, relief fills me, and I know he will get her out. As we speed off to the rendezvous point, I wipe the blood onto my black fatigues. Brielle will use her access to release my Mate, and Cain will get them both out. The plan is working. As the thought enters my mind, headlights illuminate the windshield, the tires screech, and the wheel turns too late, causing us to slam into the oncoming vehicle, and I fly head-first, right through the glass.

The doors to Boston Digital open, Brielle walks out with three coworkers, and I shake myself back into the present.

She was supposed to stay in the damn building.

How can I protect her if she can't follow basic fucking instructions?

Her eyes scan the street. Whether she's looking for threats or me, I don't know, but at least she's trying to be aware. She won't spot me, even knowing I'm here, which means she wouldn't spot anyone else either, but she gets a gold star for trying.

My attention shifts to the few people out in this weather. No one appears to be paying them any attention, but I wait until they are several blocks ahead before I move to follow. Giving them space will allow me to see who may be after her, and the tracking device I attached to her boot this morning prevents me from losing her if they make a turn I don't anticipate.

Movement across the street pulls my attention, and I slow, looking into a shop window as if deciding if I'm planning to stop in. Making a fake call, I bring my phone to my ear, click a few pictures, and allow whoever it is a chance to think they are the only ones following her.

Once their movement is out of sight, I look at the photos. Two men leave a coffee shop across from her building. I recognize one of them immediately as the man from the flight, and I make an actual phone call this time. It rings as I follow their path, relaxing some as I wait for an answer.

Come on, Dante. Pick up.

When he doesn't, I dial his office number and insert my earpiece, allowing me to use my phone to follow the tracker.

"VP Securities, this is Evelyn. How may I direct your call?" a courteous voice answers.

"Mr. Stone, please," I respond, trying to keep my voice low.

"Of course, Sir, just one moment."

Light hold music comes on a moment before the call is connected.

"Mr. Stone's office, this is Quinn speaking," a woman says. "How can I…"

"I need to speak with Dante," I state, not allowing her to continue. If there's one thing I hate, it's inefficiency.

Why do I have to go through two people to get to him?

"I understand that. Unfortunately, he's in a meeting currently. May I ask who's calling?" her voice keeps its polite tone as she dismisses me.

"This is more important than whatever he has going on," I say, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.

"Mr. Stone handles many high-profile clients, so I understand your problem may be more urgent to you. I'd be happy to take a message and have him return your call just as soon as he has an opening in his schedule. Or I can send you to one of the other department leads. Can you tell me the nature of the issue so I can find the right person to help you?" her voice doesn't waver, and I clench my jaw as I turn the corner, bringing the two men back into my line of sight. They lean casually outside an office building across the street from the restaurant Brielle just entered.

"Look, I don't care if he's in that room with the president. I need you to get up, walk in there, and get him on the phone."

"Who is this?" she asks, irritation slipping in.

"Quinn, was it? This is a matter of life or death, so if you could do your job and get your boss on the line," I growl, no longer keeping my voice calm.

"That's what we do here. Everything is life or death. My job is to prioritize each emergency that comes in. Unless you can give me your name and the reason for your call, there's nothing I can do for you."

"Then you can let your boss know that whoever he has following the asset in Boston is about to die." I hang up the phone, frustration boiling out of me at the woman's inability to follow basic instructions.

I bet she and City get along swell.

Exhaling, I attempt to calm myself down from the interaction as I walk past the restaurant. I can't see Bri, or her associates from the front windows, so I turn down the alley, stopping by the back door to the building.

At least she's not a sitting duck.

Though most of the people after her wouldn't make a scene in such a public place. They would attempt to get her alone, especially since she's worth nothing if she dies.

The vibration in my hand shows me that Dante has responded to my missed call with a text message.

Everything ok? I'm in an LLC meeting about Brielle. I can't talk.

Your guy back in communication?

Yes. Carter was delayed at airport security. He should be following her now.

Who's with him?

Nyxon Montgomery. He's assisting until my team lands in an hour. We had FCC issues getting out last night and couldn't clear until this morning.

Got it. I'll pull back and let them do their job. Speaking of, you need to fire your secretary. She nearly got them both killed.

Quinn?

She's incompetent. Wouldn't even put my call through.

That's on me. I told her this meeting was the top priority. I'm trying to stall the Reno investigation. They want Brielle at headquarters.

She'd be safer there.

That may be true, but I promised her time to figure out where she wanted to be. She only gets this trip.

Does she know?

Cain's on his way.

Not sure he's the best messenger, considering.

His Mate. His choice.

Copy. When she leaves tonight, let your guys know they're off duty. She's staying with me. I'll have her back at 8 a.m. tomorrow.

Cain will want to know where she is.

Then he should have told her the truth two months ago, and his Mate bond would have been in place, and none of us would be here.

You aren't wrong. Glad to have you back working with us.

I'm not back.

You sure have a funny way of showing it.

I bite my cheek at his message.

I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be getting involved. But ever since I saw Brielle's future, everything changed. The visions changed. Fate changed.

If there's one thing I know about The Fates, second chances don't come around often.

She doesn't know it yet, but Brielle is the only one who can reset the balance.

Walking back to the main street, I step out of the shadows and pull back my hood, allowing Carter and Nyxon to see me. Their eyes snap to mine, and I see their expressions change from feigned disinterest to alert to gawking in a matter of moments.

Typically, I wouldn't have revealed myself before leaving, but they need to know the importance of this mission.

After I allow them the time to process who I am, I raise an eyebrow at Carter and point at the restaurant. He nods, understanding my silent question.

You got her?

I return the gesture and pull my hood back on before disappearing into the alley. I have four hours until I need to be back at Boston Digital to pick her up.

Four hours to find Saint's stronghold in Boston.

It's time to put my focus back on the Fallon Project.