Page 76 of My Ghost

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Matteo

Where are you, little ghost?I am moving hell and heaven, why can’t I find you?

Hours later, D, Luc and I are the only ones remaining in my office.I sent Dave and Allan home a while ago despite them wanting to stay to help.We lost trace of the SUV when it drove into a neighborhood with no security cameras in the area.There was nothing more they could do, and I wanted them gone if—when—I lost control and ripped the walls apart with my bare hands.

Now I am tearing through every shred of data, every possible lead like a madman.Not one of them gives me any clue.The car belongs to Rourke and is registered at his home address.Luc tore his place apart but they found nothing, the fucker is gone without a trace.His background check gave us no clue either, it is clean.Maybe too clean.

D is sitting on a couch outside my office, coordinating research teams.But until now, there has been no breakthrough.

We have nothing.

With every second, I feel my soul fracture into tiny fragments so sharp and destructive they shred my sanity to scraps.I am not sure what will remain when the last piece of myself is crushed to dust.But right now, I can’t afford to break.

Erin needs me.The thought loops in my head like a mantra, the only thing keeping my sanity tethered to my consciousness.

I let out a frustrated breath and rub my palms over my face.The sound of my beard bristles scraping against skin sounds too loud in the silent office.

When I look up, I try to regroup, to think about what I could have missed.

I frown when something catches my eye.There is a new folder on my home-screen.

Cat pics for grumpiness relief.

What the fuck?

It can only come from her.I click to open the folder, half-expecting to see cat pics.But instead, there is a single file named Grump.enc.I double-click and a password prompt pops up.I try her name, but nothing happens.I try mine, with the same result.I tryGhost, and this time, line after line of data spill on the screen, all of them about Manticore.Why did Erin put the folder on my desktop?I scan the data, hoping to find a clue.

A name catches my attention,Bastion.I look closer.She has saved a note about finding a trace of a message to someone calling themselves Geryon coming from here, from inside the Bastion.I freeze.

Geryon.

Someone here contacted Manticore.

Fuck.

Did she find a traitor and get caught because she came too close?

Chapter Forty-One

Erin

I blink awake, trying to remember why I feel so off-kilter.My cheek is pressed against a foul-smelling surface and my limbs are stiff from the cold.Rourke.I jerk upward.Next to me, Lydia is slowly waking.We talked until late in the night and fell asleep with our backs together to keep us warm.Hunger and thirst are gnawing at my insides, making my stomach churn.I get up and pad toward the sink.The tap squeaks when I twist it, but water is flowing out.At least we won’t die of thirst.I cup my hands and drink the water that looks and tastes like liquid rust.Then I look at the grime-stained glass window.The morning light is filtering through the glass, making the cracks glint like spiderwebs.

I turn to Lydia.She looks haggard, and my heart clenches to see her so broken.I have to find a way out of here.

But before I can think of anything, the latch squeaks and the door swings open, revealing Rourke holding a gun.My stomach flips and I freeze.

He turns the gun to me.“Out, now.”

I can’t move, terror has me rooted to the spot.

“I said out!Or I’ll shoot your new friend.”He directs the muzzle of the gun toward Lydia.

“Wait—I’ll go.”I take a step forward, then another.My blood is pounding in my ears and I think I may pass out.Once I am close enough, he grabs my arm and drags me out of the room, slamming and latching the door shut behind us.Then he presses the gun to my back and instructs me to walk down the dark hallway.By the time we arrive in what looks like a storage area, I am shaking so hard that I fear my legs will give out.Rourke directs me toward a corner of the big room where a desk and a few chairs are set up.He motions to a chair and I obediently sit down.Then he puts his gun in his belt holster and approaches to secure my wrists to the armrests with zip ties.I am trapped.But since he is tying me up, it means that he doesn’t want me dead.Right?For now.That stupidly gives me hope.

“So, Ms.Skye.Are you more inclined to talk now?”