“Oh, God,” Zira groans as the call ends. “How can you sit there and tell me this isn’t my fault? Something’s happened, I know it has, and if it’s because of me and that blasted car? Oh, God.” She rocks forward in her seat. “I’m sorry.”
“Zira, please, listen to me. I’m concerned, I won’t hide that. But this isn’t your fault. Look, we keep a lot of stuff away from the Empire State for security reasons. It hardly works as a secret headquarters if we take all our work there, but if Harris has aGPS embedded in that car, then it’s a safehouse he’ll head to. I wouldn’t give him the credit to be smart enough to do that, but if he was waiting for you to bring the diamonds to him and got impatient, then that’s where he’d go.”
“Your friends wouldn’t have found it?”
“My team are skilled. Raven is the best of the best, but she’s as good with a gun as I am with a laptop. If there were a GPS to find, I would bet that she found it, but I put so much pressure on her, on all of them, to catalogue the diamonds and get them back to the Irish. If she missed it and it was still active…” My knuckles fade to white against the steering wheel. “It’s my fault if anything has happened to them. And Harris?” Shaking my head, my teeth briefly sink into my cheek. “There’s no accounting for what a crazy man with nothing to lose will do to get what he wants.”
Zira nods along to everything I say but at a glance, she seems unconvinced. As much as I want to reassure her, I can’t. Not if something’s happened to Raven or Valentina. Part of me regrets leaving the city, but it’s the same part of me that can’t ever let go of things or take a day off. The good done through my trip with Zira is unimaginable, never mind the growing feelings for her that rest just behind my heart.
But if my choice puts my team in danger?
Zira’s not the only one who won’t be able to forgive herself.
We screech into the parking lot of the safehouse twenty minutes later. Cassian’s already there and melts out of the tree line, clasping an assault rifle as I slam on the brakes and bring the car to a stop. Snatching my phone, I leap from the car.
“Anything?”
“Did a perimeter sweep,” Cassian replies. “Nothing so far. I’ve got men stationed all around but we haven’t gone in yet. You armed?” His eyes dart down me, and I nod.
“Always.” Pulling my gun from my hip, I quickly check that it’s loaded just as Zira joins me. “Zira, stay in the car.”
“What? I want to come!”
“No.”
“You can’t just sideline me! If I had something to do with this, then I want to help. Please, Bradley. Let me help!”
“Zira.” Moving past Cassian, I cup the side of her face and meet her worried gaze. “I’m not sidelining you but you have no weapons training for what we’re about to do, okay? So I need you here and safe. I can’t go in there and focus while I’m worried about you out here, okay?”
Her lips part but her protest dies on her tongue as she listens to me and slowly, she nods. “Okay. Okay. Just…” Both her hands briefly touch my chest. “Be careful, okay?”
“Always.” Leaning forward, I kiss her forehead and then step away, but I keep one eye on her until she’s safely back in the car. Then Cassian and I lightly jog toward the garage.
“I’ve messaged one of my guys to collect her,” Cassian says. “She’ll be safe.”
“Thanks.”
“Good trip, though?” Despite the worry of the situation, when we reach the door leading into the reception area, Cassian flashes me a wink.
“I’ll tell you later.” Lowering my voice, I lift my gun to my chest and keep it close, then reach my other hand for the door. The handle gives way immediately, and the door very slowly swings open with a squeak of hinges that sends a jolt down my spine.
Cassian and I exchange a look, then I lean against the door and hold it open while Cassian sweeps inside. There’s a chance Harris is still here, which means we need to maintain the element of surprise. As I creep over peeling tiles and past walls filled with ancient garage services and adverts from decades ago, I pray I’m walking into Valentina asleep and Raven dancing in her headphones, completely blind to the situation we’ve found ourselves in.
My heart sinks further as we close in on the closed white door, keeping the reception separate from the rest of the garage. Cassian approaches it first, then tilts his head and angles his ear toward the door. Straining to listen, a faint rumble catches my attention.
A car engine?
No, it’s something else.
He grasps the knob and turns it slowly, leaning his shoulder on the door and easing it open with a soft grunt. The rumbling reveals itself to be the thrumming beat of music rising from somewhere deeper in the garage.
Shit.
It’s not loud enough to mask a phone call, that’s for sure.
Keeping low on our haunches, Cassian and I sweep into the garage with weapons raised and hearts hammering, ready to open fire or negotiate, depending on what we find inside.
The middle of the floor is taken up by the shell frame of a car with all of its pieces and components scattered around it in a spiral, like a blueprint come to life before my very eyes. A single bulb swings lazily back and forth from the ceiling, and one workbench is piled with empty food boxes from our home. Several bottles of soda line the back of the bench as we pass it.
