Grim Reaper
Jade
We crossed the line.
Alex and I crossedallthe lines. But the thing was…we did it together. More than that—he offered his hand, waiting for me. Assuring me. Giving me the chance, the choice, the space, the whole damn fucking world.
He didn’t push. He didn’t coerce. He didn’t control. He didn’tmanipulate.
He was just there for me. With me.
There wasn't any trickery, there weren't any games, no hidden stones either.
Our make-out session on the beach was the most passionate and needy thing that had ever happened to me. He pulled me into his world, and I followed eagerly, still oblivious, still carefree.
But then the puzzle took shape in my mind and,of course! Of courseit was them. I should have figured it out earlier.
We have this expression in Russian,Alex said,but I bypassed that little detail, too immersed in everything that was happening between us.
I sat across the dinner table from Alex and Andrei and admired their dedication. Throughout our entire investigation, we had no idea who was in charge. We’d learned so much, we had informants, we were close to catching them, but thethemwas still the missing puzzle piece.
We just knew it was a few Russian men—we suspected it was two, but we didn’t know for sure.
Their crew, everyone who we’d arrested, all our informants—no onewas giving up their names. The answers were always vague and convoluted.
No comment.
I don’t know who’s at the top.
I’ve never seen them.
It’s two men, I think, but they’re not here.
It’s deeper than them; no one knows who they are.
Were the repeat answers we kept hearing.
The detectives couldn’t catch the—potentially—two men in the act, couldn’t find their real names or their real addresses, but they did give them a nickname—The Nightcrawlers.And it stuck.
But one of the informants let a name slip one time—Dre. He was questioned incessantly about it, but denied ever saying a name, insisting the investigators misheard him.
Our office was focused on bringing down this car theft syndicate, but we were all working in a loop. We knew a lot, but not enough to arrest them. We had informants, but they were useless. We’d been working on it for years but had no idea who the Russian men were.
But now we were close.My fatherwas close.
"Have you been working on…us?" Alex posed a question after I turned the dinner party into a nightmare.
“Yes,” I answered quickly, my mind on fire. “I'm deeply involved. And I don't think you two realize...the number of problems you have.”
My chest shook as I tried to gather my thoughts. Alex was one of The Nightcrawlers. Holy fuck! There was no doubt in my mind about what I wanted to do—everything I knew, all the information that had been shared with me, I’d put it all toward helping them. Together, we could turn it all around and give my dad the finger.
God, I had fucking psychological problems. He wasmy father. Did I hate him? The prospect of hurting him made me shake with anticipation and excitement.
“This—you…it’s like a personal vendetta for him.” I tried to explain. “He feels very strongly about this. As if your case would forever solidify his contribution to America’s justice system.”
I’d thought about all the early mornings and late nights my dad had been putting in during his career, always working overtime, holding his team to the highest standards. His work was monumental to him, and he viewed this case as some kind of pinnacle of the law. He wanted to conquer this. Conquerthem.
“Fuck,”Andrei breathed out, his evening going off the rails at full speed. First, he caught Alex and I kissing, and now he was listening to me explain how many problems he had in his business.
