Chapter 31
Liv
“Okay, okay, what am I missing?” I’m moving too fast; I know I am.
I’ve got drawers open with clothes half folded sticking out of them and half-stuffed into the gym bag I kept after deciding I was going to start going to the gym regularly two years ago but never followed through with.
My hands won’t stop shaking long enough to do anything properly, so I stop trying to do it properly. Just fast.
I can keep trying to shove away the thought that there’s people who’ve set their eyes on turning me into one of those trafficking victims, force-intubated while conscious, and being raped by some sick freak.
I just need to focus on clothes, just clothes.
Focus, make outfits. But, ugh! How many work clothes? What about pajamas?
Just stuff work clothes in the bag and wing it with everything else. Wait, that’s stupid. That’s a surefire way to run out of clean underwear in a day.
“Liv.” His voice cuts through the noise in my head. It’s low and deceptively steady. I’m sure of that because I saw the way his eyes were filled with fear when he stood at my door and told me we needed to escape.
I don’t turn. “I’ve got it,” I say quickly, grabbing a handful of uniforms and shoving them into the bag. “I just need… like… five minutes, I just-”
“You’re packing like you’re not coming back.”
The worry in his voice makes me pause. Just for a second, I look down at the bag, at the way I’ve filled it. Then I force my breath out and shake my head. “I don’t know what I need,” I admit. “I don’t know how long-”
“I’ve got you,” he says with certainty.
I nod once, the movement so small that I’m not sure he could even see it. “Right, okay.”
I move again, slower this time, and more deliberately. Clothes, toiletries, phone charger… my brain starts ticking through the basics like I’m prepping for a long shift instead of… whatever this is. Whatever this just became.
I hear him moving in the living room, not rushed or frantic like I’ve been. It’s so at odds with the way my pulse is racing that it almost makes me laugh.
“You’re weirdly chill about this,” I say, zipping the bag halfway before realizing I forgot socks and opening it again.
“I’m not chill,” he replies.
I glance through my bedroom door and into the living room. He’s crouched near the couch. And-
“Oh my god.”
He’s guiding Pip into his cat carrier, giving my little guy a scratch behind the ears like he’s done this a hundred times before.
“What are you doing?” I ask, blinking like that’ll make this all make more sense.
“Relocating a high-value asset,” he says evenly.
I stare at him. “Alex.”
He glances up at me, completely unfazed. “What?”
“That is not-” I start like I need to remind him that my cat isn’t a political delegator in a hostile, warn-torn country.
“He’s coming with us,” he cuts in.
Not like I was arguing that. I open my mouth just to close it again. Not the time.
“How’d you know where to find Pip’s carrier?”
“It wasn’t hard to figure out; you keep his things in the cat stairs by the window.”
Smart ass.
I shake my head, a breath escaping that sounds dangerously close to hysterical. “This is insane.”
“Yeah,” he agrees easily. No argument or sugarcoating, just the truth. Then he holds his hand open for Pip to see. A small pile of treats lays in the center of his palm. Cheater.
My cat immediately gives up any idea of an escape attempt, turning toward him with full interest.
“You’re bribing him,” I accuse.
“Strategic negotiation,” he corrects.
I huff a quiet laugh despite everything, despite the fear crawling under my skin, and despite the fact that less than an hour ago, I was in my living room thinking everything was fine.
Now I’m watching a special victims unit detective gently coax my cat into a carrier like this is just another Tuesday.
“He doesn’t like new places,” I say, softer now.
He glances at me again. “I’ll handle it.”
Something about the way he says it, not dismissively or arrogant, just steady, settles something deep within me.
He guides Pip into the carrier with careful hands, closing the door gently once he’s inside.
He protests for about half a second before finding more treats inside and settling, clearly deciding this is worth being confined.
“See?” Alex assures, standing back up.
I shake my head again, grabbing my bag and finally zipping it closed. “Show off.”
He picks up the carrier like it’s nothing then looks at me. “You ready?”
No, not even a little bit. But “yeah,” seems easier. Because standing here isn’t safer, not anymore.
The gates open before we even fully stop at them, like they were waiting for us. I didn’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that nor the curved driveway lined with trees that look like they’ve never known neglect and lead to a house that doesn’t even look real.
We’d been here for the gala but that was a separate entrance leading to the ballroom, now we’re taking the main driveway to the main portion of the… mansion?!
I knew that Thornton Tech had plenty of money, but this place is way bigger than I expected.
Manor isn’t even the right word; it’s so much more than that.
I’d only ever heard of the home, situated on the edge of town, but I’d never seen any of it until the day of the gala.
I never had a reason to be in this area since I didn’t know anyone here, had no business here, and my station didn’t report to calls this far away.
Now I’m staring out the window at what I’m pretty sure is the biggest front door on the planet. It’d be a big door even if it wasn’t a double door. But this thing belongs in a medieval castle or something.
This part of the house has the same structure as the ballroom’s entrance, with stone pillars flanking the door and ivy crawling up them. More ivy trails up the walls of the home, tapering off near the massive windows on the second floor.
Warm light spills from inside like something out of movie. Despite its size and opulence, it looks homey. Welcoming.
I sit there for a second just staring as Alex parks in front of that giant front door.
Pip’s carrier sits on my lap in the front seat as he spins circles, ready to get out.
Alex rushed us into an unmarked squad car so fast that I barely got a look around the neighborhood, or more importantly, the multitude of emergency vehicles littering the block.
He and Mason had a quick, hushed conversation while I tossed my bag in the backseat that I’m sure was about me considering the way Mason was looking sideways at me.
As Alex climbed into the vehicle, I offered to help the EMTs, partially to get an idea of what had happened and partially to help my fellow paramedics. But Alex assured me they had it handled.
He wouldn’t tell me anymore about it the whole drive here and was probably thankful when I went dumbstruck quiet as we pulled onto the property.
But the quiet is about to end.
“MEROOOOOOOOW,” Pip hollers in his carrier. He’s so done with being in there.
“Alex,” I say slowly, patting the carrier on my lap as I stare up at the manor. “What the hell is this place?”
He parks, killing the engine, like this is normal. “It’s my dad’s place.”
I let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. Yeah, I gathered. “Your dad lives here?”
“Yeah.”
I shake my head, looking back at the house as he grabs my bag from the back seat. I climb out, slinging the carrier’s strap over my shoulder. “This isn’t a house,” I say. “This is, like, if a tech billionaire and a castle had a baby.”
That earns a faint huff of amusement from him. “Something like that.”
The door opens as we approach because of course it does.
I hesitate, because suddenly I feel every difference between us.
The clothes in my bag, the scuffs on my sneakers, and the fact that I still smell faintly like antiseptic even though I showered after I got home before Alex showed up suddenly and sent everything into a spiral.
But he sees it immediately, because he’s Alex. “Liv.”
I look at him.
“You’re okay,” he assures.
The reassurance almost works. But I force myself to fake it. I nod, “right.”
It’s quieter here than in the city, even in my haphazard neighborhood that seemed so quiet but now I realize it wasn’t actually, at least compared to this.
The heavy oak doors swing open, and the air changes instantly, becoming cool and still.
My breath catches in my throat. The floor looks like a single expanse of white marble so polished it mirrors the crystal chandelier hanging from a ceiling three stories above.
A grand staircase curves up into the shadows, its banister a gleaming, dark wood that looks like a waterfall against the stark white.
I don’t touch anything, I’m too afraid to.
“This way,” Alex says, taking Pip’s carrier from me before I can protest.
“I can carry him,” I say automatically, watching him carry my gym bag and the cat carrier now.
“I know.” But he doesn’t give it back.
I follow him up the stairs and down a hallway that’s bigger than my entire apartment.
“This is temporary,” he soothes. “You’ll have your own space. The security system covers the whole property. Between the cameras and the restricted access, no one’s getting in here without us knowing.”
His words aren’t as comforting as he thought they would be.
“Why me?” I ask quietly.
He stops in his tracks, his expression shifting. “What do you mean?”
“Why are they watching me?” I press. “Why am I suddenly… part of this?”
His jaw ticks. “They think you’ve seen something,” he repeats what he’d said in my apartment.
“I have seen something,” I reply. “That’s my job.”
“It’s more than that.”
I hold his gaze. “Then tell me.”
He hesitates, which tells me everything. The hallway feels smaller suddenly, ridiculous actually.
“You went inside,” I say. Not a question.
His expression confirms it anyway.
“And now they’re looking for who did it,” I continue.
“Yeah.”
“And that leads to me.”
His silence is answer enough. I exhale slowly, processing it. “This isn’t random.”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
But he pauses longer this time. When he finally speaks, it sounds like he’s trying to comfort me. “Liv-”
“Don’t,” I chime. “Don’t soften it. Don’t you dare. I need to know what I’m standing in.”
His gaze refines slightly. “They’re organized,” he points out. “And careful. They don’t make moves unless they have a reason.”
“And I’m the reason.”
“No,” he says immediately. But there’s something in it, something not fully convincing.
I cross my arms, suddenly cold in a place that shouldn’t feel cold. “Then what?” I press.
He steps closer, not enough to crowd me but enough to ground me. “They’re reacting. To something they think is a threat.”
“And that threat is connected to me.”
“Yes.”
I nod once. “Okay.” Not okay but understood. At least he told me.
“Does it have something to do with the situation outside my apartment?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you let me help EMS? What if they needed another set of hands? Was it an officer?”
“You couldn’t have helped, Liv,” his voice goes low, too low.
“I could have been an extra set of hands readying for transport-”
“They were already dead, Liv.”
I go still, so still that my joints ache.
“Two officers killed while the traffickers were scouting your neighborhood looking for you.”
My pulse is thundering in my ears. He takes the opportunity while I’m too stunned to react to lead me further down the hallway and into a bedroom that is definitely as big as my whole apartment.
I glance around the room, at the king-sized bed, the large windows showing the lights of the city out in the distance, and to what looks like an en suite bathroom. Well, that I can get behind.
Then my eyes go back to him, something they seem to be doing a lot tonight. He’s rigid, more than normal, as he sets the bag and carrier on the bed.
“You’re tense,” I notice.
His brow furrows slightly. “I’m always tense.”
“No,” I reply. “This is different. You’re watching everything, even here.”
He doesn’t deny it because he is. Since we’ve walked in this room, he’s glanced at every doorway, window, and every possible way that something could go wrong. He said this place is safe but he’s still worried. I guess with cop-killer, demented sex traffickers targeting me, he should be.
“You think they’ll come here,” I say.
“No,” he replies too quickly.
I tilt my head slightly. “You don’t believe that.”
He exhales slowly. “They’d be stupid to try.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
We go silent because we both know it. Nothing about this situation is predictable anymore.
I shift my weight, suddenly very aware of everything that I don’t understand and everything I’ve just been dropped into.
“The closet should be empty, go ahead and unpack. I’ve gotta get the car back to the precinct.
I’ll be back in a little bit on my bike.
” He leans down beside the bed, looking through the mesh of Pip’s carrier.
A little pale, orange paw bats at him. “Let Pip out in here but don’t let him out into the rest of the house until we get it safe for him. ”
“What about your dad?”
“He heads to bed early. We’ll meet up with him at breakfast. And we’ll get your work schedule planned out with Manny.”
“Who’s Manny?”
“The driver,” he answers casually.
“D-driver?”
A smirk spreads across his face, kicking my heart into overdrive for a better reason this time. “Well, you can’t walk to work while you’re staying here, and the last time you were on my bike, I thought you were going to have a heart attack. A driver would be easier for you to handle.”
Right, easier.
He turns to leave but I stop him with one more question. “Wait, if your dad has already gone to bed then who opened the gate to let us in?”
“Oh, that was Wilfred.”
“Wilfred?”
He stops in the doorway. “Yeah, the butler,” he says nonchalantly over his shoulder before closing the door and leaving me in here.
His footsteps echo down the hallway until they fade and everything goes quiet.
An hour ago, I was relaxing on the couch with Pip, trying to figure out what to watch until heading to bed.
I was planning what I was going to spend tomorrow doing.
A day off work usually means laundry, cleaning, and not meal prepping even though I’d spent the last few days planning on doing it finally.
I was going to make mac and cheese, plan to save half for a second meal, but end up eating too much right away and feeling bad about it. I was going to-
“MEROOOOOW.”
-let Pip out of his carrier right away.