by E. L. Todd
“I thought I would grab something while I was out.” He took a seat and unwrapped his sandwich so he could eat it beside me.
I turned back to my computer like he wasn’t even there. My final conversation with Dax had been a few days ago, and none of my friends had asked me about it, as if they were giving me time to decompress without an interrogation.
He took a few bites and looked at my notes. “How are things with Simon Prescott?”
“I’m meeting a source tonight. I just need a couple more details confirmed, and then I’ll submit it to Vince.”
He kept eating, pulling the wrapper farther away to reveal more of the sandwich. “How are you?”
“Fine.”
“You sure?”
My fingers stopped on the keyboard, and I released a sigh. “Yes.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“Well, I am.”
Charlie stopped eating his sandwich and set it down. “You’re sadder now than you were before.”
“Well, breakups do that to you. The pain comes at different times.”
He moved his hand to my laptop and closed it. “Carson.”
“We’re really going to do this now? At work?” I turned to look at him.
“I’ve been waiting for you to do it on your own time, but it’s obvious that’s not going to happen.” He studied my face like he was trying to read my real feelings through my features rather than through the words I chose. “I’ve been thinking about what Dax said…and I think he’s right. I also think you think it too—and that’s why you’re so sad.”
I dropped my gaze because eye contact was too much. “I thought you didn’t like him after what he did.”
“Never said that. I don’t dislike him. I just…didn’t agree with how he handled the situation.”
“But nothing has changed.”
“Exactly,” he said. “You still love each other. And his solution is a great declaration. He’s putting everything on the table to prove to you that he’s not sleazy. When we talked, he told me he didn’t even want you to sign anything in the first place, as a gesture of his implicit trust. I know things turned shitty, but he is a good guy. I think it might be a mistake to walk away.”
“But what about my job?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what to say about that.”
“I already made the sacrifice once, then he bulldozed me.”
“I know.”
I turned back to him.
“If he just didn’t like your job, I would agree with him. But he is right…it’s really dangerous. And he even said he would put up with it until you have kids. His head is in the right place if that’s where he puts his foot down, over your kids. It shows he would be a good father. That’s what a parent does—protects their kids.”
“Yeah…”
Charlie turned silent and just stared at me.
But I didn’t say anything.
“I know he’s been a lot of work since you met, but I think he’s worth it, Carson. You’re so close to the finish line, you know?”
I ran my fingers through my hair and looked at the sandwich he’d brought for me. “I need to think about it.”
“Don’t take long. He seemed pretty angry the other night, and anger makes people do stupid things.” He grabbed his sandwich then left my cubicle.
At the end of the workday, I took a cab across town and stepped into a busy bar where I would meet my source, who had agreed to talk on condition of anonymity.
I was going to try to change his mind.
I found him sitting alone in the booth with a beer in front of him, glancing out the window over and over as if he were afraid he’d been followed.
I got my glass of wine from the bar then joined him.
He immediately stiffened when I sat down, letting out a deep breath like he’d been spooked by a ghost.
“We’re perfectly safe. Relax.”
He stared down at his hands, visibly distressed by this clandestine meeting. “Let’s just get this over with.”
I pulled out my recorder and set it on the table before I turned it on. I didn’t take notes because I actually wanted to listen. “Tell me what you know.”
He scanned the bar again to make sure no one was paying attention to us in the corner before he spoke. “I worked there for ten years. I was the chief lab scientist, and I was responsible for quality control and testing.”
“How much fentanyl was cut into the drugs?”
“Triple the amount. Far exceeding the FDA guidelines.”
“And there was no third-party scientist to verify your products for the FDA? They just take your word for it?”
“No, they do verify everything every quarter to make sure we’re compliant.”
I narrowed my eyes. “So, this goes up higher than just Kerosene?”
He nodded. “Why do you think I’m sweating like a pig right now?”
“Jesus… Can you give me names?”
“I can, but I shouldn’t. My identity will be obvious.”
I nodded. “But you do realize we can link Kerosene and the FDA in one of the biggest drug conspiracies in our nation’s history? Jim, this is a really big deal. The government will write you a check, and you and your family can disappear—”
“I can’t risk it. They’ll get to me first. This is all the information I’m willing to tell you. You’ll have to use this data and go digging yourself. That way, they know it wasn’t me.”
It was a lot to ask someone to risk their life, and judging from his disturbed countenance, I wouldn’t get more than this out of him. I just had to be grateful. “Keep talking. I’m listening.”
When I was finished with Jim, he left first.
I stayed to finish my glass of wine, to think about everything I’d learned about the biggest drug bust in history.
Now I understood why Simon Prescott had come on so strong.
I should be scared.
But all I could think about was Dax.
What was he doing at that moment? Was he home alone? Had he already moved on? If I came back to him, would he even want me?
I was used to independence and having full control over my life. And once I tried to share it with another person, I lost that control…and it terrified me. But that was how it had to be—no other way around it. Maybe I had to accept the chaos, the amount of work this relationship would take—because it was worth it.
I finished my wine before I left the bar and walked onto the sidewalk. There were a few people on the sidewalk but very limited cabs. But one drove by, and I waved it down.
Ever since my last encounter with Simon Prescott, I always made sure he wasn’t lurking in the other seat before I got inside, so I bent down to check.
His shadowed outline was there.
I immediately turned away from the cab so I could sprint back into the bar.
Two guys came out of nowhere, one hand cupped over my mouth while the other got the door open. I was overpowered immediately, shoved into the car despite how hard I fought back. Then a fist flew at my face so hard that I saw stars.
My wrists and ankles were bound, and I was too dizzy to fight.
The door slammed shut, and the cab took off.
I turned to look at Simon, trying to fight the zip tie around my wrist. His face came in and out of focus.
He stared at me, shaking his head slightly. “What a shame…absolute shame.” He grabbed my purse and found my phone. Then he slammed it down onto the center console, making the screen shatter. “Hope it was worth it, Carson.”
27
Dax
I went back to my lonely existence.
It’d been a week, and she hadn’t contacted me.
Her ring was still in my kitchen drawer, and now I knew she’d never come back to retrieve it.
My last attempt to get her back was cathartic, because I loved her deeply but had to speak my mind, that I wasn’t the easiest person to deal with—but neither was she. I had my baggage, b
ut I had a lot of qualities that would make me the perfect man to love her.
Letting me go was a mistake.
A big fucking mistake.
Letting her go was a mistake too, but I didn’t let it happen. I fought until there was no other option.
I did the best I could.
I could continue to tell myself that until it didn’t hurt anymore.
My phone rang, and Charlie’s name appeared on the screen.
It was almost ten o’clock at night, so it was odd to hear from him. My heart started to race, wondering what he had to tell me. I took the call. “What’s up?”
He spat out the words quickly. “Is Carson with you?”
“No… Why?”
“Oh shit.”
The panic set in. “Why? Charlie, what’s wrong?”
“She was supposed to talk to a source after work, but that was hours ago. She’s not taking my texts or calls, and she always does. The girls tried to get a hold of her too, but nothing. When I call, it goes straight to voice mail, so I think her phone is off…or broken.”
I was on my feet instantly, even though I had nowhere to go. “Did you call the police?”
“They won’t file a missing person’s report until she’s been gone for twenty-four hours.”
“Even though she’s a reporter?” I asked incredulously.
“Yeah. I talked to the chief of police and everything. I know all the guys down there, but they still wouldn’t do it.”
Jesus, I was going to have a heart attack.
“I gotta go. I’ve got to make some calls—”
“What was her last location?”
“East of Eden in Brooklyn,” Charlie said. “What are you going to do?”
“Find her.”
“You’re gonna go down there and ask questions? They’re closed—”
“I’m going to hack in to her phone and pull up a location.”
“You can do that?”
“You bet your fucking ass, I can.” I hung up.
I met my software guys at the office, called them in after hours and told them it was an emergency. They worked at their computers as they broke through the firewall of the operating system and actually got into the location services of her phone.
Charlie and Matt sat with the girls, helpless to do anything.
My lead engineer turned to me. “Sir, you know this is illegal—”
“I don’t give a damn,” I snapped. “They can lock me up afterward.”
“Fair enough.” He turned back in his chair and kept working.
“Any updates?” I asked, towering over them from behind.
“We’re working as fast as we can,” Tom said. “Just give some time.”
I walked back to Carson’s friends.
Charlie looked sick to his stomach. Denise cried on and off. Kat seemed like she was in shock. Matt was in a daze, like he had no idea what to do except stare at the wall.
I stood near them, my heart still racing like it was before.
“What do we do when we get her location?” Charlie asked.
“Call the cops and tell them there’s a homicide in progress,” I answered. “I just hope we get there in time.” I continued to watch my guys work on their computers, breaking the privacy laws of this country and pulling a location from the software we created for the phones. In the past, the government had asked us to pull information from criminal’s phones that could put them in jail for the rest of their lives, but we refused to cooperate because that violated our own code of ethics.
I didn’t give a damn about ethics right now.
All I cared about was the woman I loved.
28
Carson
When I opened my eyes, I was in a warehouse.
The windows were frosted from grime, not the cold. Big chains hung from the ceiling, like this place used to be a slaughterhouse. Everything was either metal or concrete. I couldn’t recall how I got here, how I ended up in this chair, my legs and arms bound with duct tape.
They must have drugged me.
Once I was of sound mind, I started to twist to rip the tape.
No use.
Voices sounded from behind me. “Boss, she’s awake.”
Simon Prescott’s voice came a moment later. “Oh good. Let’s get this show on the road.”
I tried to fight again and again, but all I did was rock my chair until it tipped over, and I landed hard against the concrete.
“Careful.” Simon Prescott grabbed my chair and tipped it back until I was upright once more. Then he moved in front of me, wearing his tailored suit. His hands slid into his pockets as he looked at me, a slight smile on his lips.
It was my time.
My nine lives had run out.
No amount of back talk would get me out of this one.
My body would be dumped into the bay, or I’d be stuffed in an oil drum. No one would find my body.
Dax would never know what happened to me.
The thought of him hurt the most.
One of Simon’s cronies brought him a chair and set it down in front of me.
Simon took a seat without even glancing at it. He leaned back, put his hands together in his lap, and crossed his legs. “I warned you.”
“Let me go, and I’ll drop it.” It was a demeaning thing to say because I would die for my career, but I thought about Dax and how heartbroken he would be that his worst nightmare had come true.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“No. I mean, really, you’re going to say that now?” He raised his hands and gestured to the warehouse where we sat, where the outside world was silenced. “Honey, there’s no going back now. We both know that. But I can give you something else. Give me your sources, and I’ll make it quick. A bullet to the back of the head. You won’t even know when it’s coming.”
I heard one of his men step up behind me, like he had the gun pointed at the back of my head that very moment.
The panic dissipated when I knew there was no way out. I knew the risks when I took this job, made jokes about it like it wasn’t a big deal. I had to accept my fate, and I had to do it with some dignity. That was how I wanted to spend my last few minutes on this earth. “You know I can’t do that.”
He pointed above him. “You see those chains?”
I didn’t look.
“I’ll hang you up by the ankle, and one of my boys will torture you until you spit everything out. We’ve done it many times, and trust me, that’s not how you want to go…with your fingernails ripped out, your eyelids carved off your face, until you’re so disfigured that you don’t even look like you anymore.” His fingers interlocked on his lap as he stared at me, cocking his head slightly. “Tell me every source and every witness you’ve gathered. I’m going to figure it out anyway, it’ll just take me longer.”
“Liar.” I was the key to the information. I left all my paperwork at the office so no one could break in to my apartment and steal it. If I kept the names a secret, they would live…and I was going to die anyway. “My fate is the same, regardless how it’s delivered. So do what you have to do. Maybe others have talked, but I promise you, I won’t. I never give up my sources. Not now. Not ever. And not for you.”
Simon stared at me for a few seconds before he released a gentle breath. “What a shame. Such a pretty face.” He lifted his gaze behind me and gave a slight nod to one of his men.
Here it comes.
Then sirens sounded in the distance.
Simon didn’t react, assuming it was a police car zooming by to a crime scene. We were in a bad part of town where crime was rampant. But the sirens came closer and closer, until the red and blue lights lit up the window.
And there were at least a dozen cars—right outside the building.
It was the first time Simon Prescott didn’t look like the cool and calculated suit that he was. He quickly turned to his men and nodded.
I knew he’d given the order to kill
me.
I threw my body hard, so my chair toppled over.
The guy missed his shot and hit Simon Prescott in the leg.
He immediately collapsed, dirt covering his suit, blood dripping to his shoes. “What the fuck are you doing?”
It was pandemonium. Glass broke as the windows were shattered by bullets, and Simon continued to scream at his incompetent men. One of them ran to his side to lift him up from the floor and get him out of there, but then he was shot and collapsed to the floor.
I was on my side and strapped to the chair, seeing Simon grab his ankle then look at his palm, studying the blood smeared across his skin.
The police burst through the door, their guns aimed, covered in bulletproof vests.
Simon looked at me, furious.
I smiled.
The police swarmed into the warehouse and secured the perimeter. Some chased the cronies who had made it to the other side of the warehouse on foot. Others secured Simon Prescott in handcuffs instantly. And another came to me, lifting me from the chair and cutting the tape.
I guess I had more lives than I thought.
I didn’t have a scratch on me other than my bruised eye, so I didn’t have to be sent to the hospital. I was escorted out of the warehouse and to the sidewalk so I could be taken to the police station to give my statement.
A blanket was draped over my shoulders, and the officer escorted me to the car.
“Carson!” Charlie’s loud voice came from behind me.
I quickly turned around and slammed the door shut so I could get to him.
He sprinted to me then gripped me tightly, squeezing me hard as he breathed in a rush. “Fuck, are you okay?” He pulled away and pulled off my blanket so he could look at me. His hands touched me everywhere, checking for bullet wounds, even though I was fine.
“Charlie, I’m okay.” I placed my hands on his chest. “It was Simon Prescott. But I don’t think we need to worry about him anymore.”
“Jesus…”
