15. Roman #2
Felix turns abruptly and heads back upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.
The sudden burst of movement sends a jolt through the room and I follow without thinking, my boots hitting the stone behind him as we climb back toward the house above.
I can hear the others moving with us, the thud of footsteps close behind as we surge out of the stairwell and back into the hallway.
Felix doesn’t slow down. He cuts straight across the house, moving with a kind of desperate focus, like he’s chasing a thought that’s only just begun to form. By the time we reach the landing, he’s already halfway down the corridor, heading directly for the master bedroom.
The door is open.
He stops just inside it.
Something in the way his shoulders stiffen makes my stomach sink before I even step into the room. When I do, I see the wardrobe doors standing wide open. Clothes are scattered across the floor like someone emptied the rails in a hurry. The safe behind the wardrobe panel hangs open.
Felix stares at it.
“He ran,” Felix exhales the words under his breath as he steps further into the room.
I shake my head immediately.
“No,” I say at the exact same time someone behind me mutters a quiet curse.
“No!” I snap, turning toward Felix. “How could he have known?”
Felix lets out a humourless scoff and gestures toward the far wall. I follow the motion and that’s when I see the safe is empty. A cold ripple runs straight down my spine.
“He knew,” Felix says quietly. “That safe was full of cash and his passport.” His gaze flicks back toward me. “It’s all gone.”
“No,” I say softer this time.
I spin around as fear starts to creep in, crawling its way into the back of my mind before I can stop it.
It feels too familiar. Too close to the same sick realisation we had with Fisher when every lead started collapsing in on itself.
Felix storms past me and into the walk-in wardrobe, throwing the doors wide as he scans the shelves and rails.
“There’s not even any suitcases left in here,” he snaps. “Damn it, Roman. Wake up.” He turns back toward me with frustration burning in his expression. “He knew.”
“Someone warned him,” Victor mutters from behind me.
I take in a deep breath because they’re right. Ackworth didn’t leave by accident. He left because he knew we were coming. I lift my gaze from the open safe to the men standing in the room with me.
Atlas. Riggs. Victor. Felix.
A very small number of people knew about tonight. I stare at the men who have been with me every step of the way through this process.
“Don’t you dare fucking look at us like that,” Riggs snaps and his voice cracks through the room like a whip.
“Do you fucking blame me?” I fire back. “Why is it every single time we get a lead it falls on its arse?”
“Roman…” Felix says sharply, with a clear warning in his voice.
“Fuck that!” Riggs explodes. He takes a step forward towards me as anger burns across his face. “If you think for one fucking second that I don’t want to find Fae and Robyn, then you’re fucked in the head.”
He taps his temple aggressively as he speaks and his chest rises and falls hard before he shakes his head.
“They are like sisters to me, goddamn it. And if you’ve somehow forgotten, my last sister got fucking murdered by these monsters!”
The words land like a punch straight to the gut. He’s right. I know he’s right. Riggs would never betray us. Fuck, none of them would. And if they did, they couldn’t hide it from me.
“Fuck,” I mutter, dragging a hand hard across my face.
This doesn’t make sense.
“Who knew?” Felix demands.
“Everyone in this room,” I respond.
“And your dad,” Riggs spits.
“And that makes about as much sense as what I just accused you of,” I snap back.
“Why?” Riggs shoots back immediately. “Makes a hell of a lot more sense to me.”
I shake my head as frustration grinds through my chest. “Why would he give someone to us who pushed us in the direction of Ackworth and then warn him we were coming?”
Riggs goes quiet as the logic settles in. The room falls into an uneasy silence. Atlas pulls out his phone. The quiet tap of his fingers against the screen becomes the only sound in the room.
“Phones,” he says, as he moves to sit on the bed.
One by one, we pull our mobiles out and hand them over.
I don’t need to ask what he’s doing. Atlas has been paranoid about digital surveillance since the first week we moved in together.
He moves through them methodically, checking something on each device before setting it aside.
Every time he finishes one, his face tightens slightly and his shoulders rise a fraction like he’s bracing for something.
“Well?” Victor finally asks, and Atlas looks up.
“Nothing,” he mutters, and his expression turns faintly apologetic as his eyes flick toward me.
“Where were you when I called?” I turn back to Felix.
“I was driving to Fae’s,” he says, cracking his neck.
“And you?”
“All three of us were in the underground,” Riggs answers.