24. Ava
24
Ava
" R eady to make the call?"
No.
"Are we sure? I mean, it's not too late to back out now?" I wrapped my arms around my twisting, knotted belly. "Oh, God. I think I'm going to be sick."
I stared at the Mayor's office door, my car's engine humming along as though ready to drive away from this ridiculous plan.
"We've fleshed this out for the last seventy-two hours. It's do or die now."
Do or die?
Why does it need to be so ominous?
"But then again, maybe if you are having doubts, we shouldn't do it."
I need to get into that safe.
The whole story relies on it.
Or does it?
Grimacing, I turned in my seat and faced him. "I'm ready, but dammit..." I drew in a shaking breath, my hands matching the staccato. "We need to do it today."
He placed his hand over mine, his warmth swimming down my veins. "Then make the call."
What if he changed the code?
Or moved things out already?
I grabbed my phone out of my lap and dialed, my frantic heart echoing in every nerve.
"Mayor Haynes' office, this is Margaret. How can I help you?"
Oh my God, this is happening.
"Hi," my voice cracked, and I tried again. "Hi, it's Ava Thatcher. I had a meeting with the Mayor a few days ago, and I was hoping I could ask him a follow-up question. Is he available today at twelve or one o'clock?"
"Mayor Haynes is attending a luncheon that's blocked out his schedule for most of today. He's booked for the next three weeks, but I can squeeze you in around the end of the month."
Perfect .
"Anytime is fine." I gave Nate a thumbs-up as his thumbs flew over the screen on his phone.
"How about two o'clock on the eleventh?"
"That'll work, thank you." I ended the call and turned to Nate, my smile broad with triumph, a small spark of adrenaline already flickering in my chest. “He’s at a luncheon today. That’s our window.”
Nate leaned against the car door, his leather jacket creaking softly as he pocketed his phone and crossed his arms. His eyes flicked to his watch, the sun catching the silver face, causing a reflection on the car's worn ceiling. “It’s already noon. Think he’s still hanging around?”
“Doubt it.” I scanned the building, my stomach tightening at the thought of being spotted. “But I’d rather give it a little longer before going in. If he catches me, it’ll be nothing but questions, and I’m not in the mood to come up with excuses.”
Nate rubbed his hands together with a slow smirk, his knuckles cracking. “You sure you’re not enjoying this?”
I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes as I tilted my head, though it did little to mask the way his words settled in my chest like a slow-burning ember. “I’m starting to think you like it a little too much.”
He leaned in, his gaze sharp, predatory, and impossibly soft all at once. “Relax, Thatcher. I’ve got you.”
A shiver rolled down my spine, unbidden and unwelcome.
The way he said it—low, deliberate, dripping with certainty—made something flicker inside me, something I wanted to ignore but couldn’t. It wasn’t just the words—it was the way he looked at me like I was something worth guarding, worth breaking rules for.
The air between us grew heavy, every unspoken promise coiling tighter.
Do I push him away?
It's too much.
Why is it so hot all of a sudden?
I rubbed my hands together, the sweat pooling in the creases. “You’ve got all the charm of a devil on my shoulder.” Pulling my gaze away from his intoxicating eyes, I studied the front of the building.
Nate’s brow arched. "I'm taking that as a compliment."
I snorted a laugh. "Take it how you will." Because the devil is charming, but in the end, he's still the king of lies.
Twenty minutes after noon flipped on the car's dash, Nate clapped his hands together. "Here we go."
The quiet hum of the city masked the restless buzz in my chest. Adrenaline thrummed beneath my skin, sharp and electric, as I touched his arm. “Remember, we can’t go in together. Cameras are everywhere. And if anyone checks the footage for whatever reason…” My grip tightened.
"We don't want to be linked together." He nodded. "I get it. Just like we planned." He tapped me on the thigh, sending zings of energy through me, then stepped out of the car. "Come three minutes behind me."
"Got it."
He leaned in, pecked me on the lips, and closed the door.
I watched him, his stride confident, his jacket catching the light. There was a natural ease in the way he moved, like he belonged. He didn’t even glance back.
Of course, he didn’t.
Nate didn’t doubt himself—not the way I did.
What is it about him that made trust feel both reckless and inevitable?
He walked through the office doors, and the time started, my eyes glued to the clock on the phone.
The seconds dragged like they were intentionally testing my patience, stretching three minutes into what felt like a lifetime.
God, what am I doing?
This is so stupid.
What if I get caught?
A sharp breath escaped my lips as the clock ticked past the final mark.
Time’s up.
I slipped out of the car, smoothing the non-existent wrinkles on my shirt as though that would calm the nerves simmering beneath my skin, and moved toward the Mayor's building.
Margaret’s high and breathless laughter broke through the muted hum of the office as I stepped inside. “Oh, stop it!”
“I’m serious. If I used GPS, I wouldn’t have any excuses to meet beautiful women.”
I slowed, biting the inside of my cheek to stifle a grin.
Wow, he's good—too good .
A delicate pink crept up to Margaret's temples with eyes that sparkled with a kind of unguarded delight, wide and bright, as though Nate’s words were the most fascinating thing she’d ever heard. She leaned ever so slightly toward him, one hand twisting a pen while the other rested against her collarbone.
I approached the desk with small, deliberate steps, arranging my face into an apologetic smile. “Excuse me,” I said, pitching my voice low enough to feign shyness.
Margaret turned to me, her glowing expression dimming the moment her eyes landed on mine. “Your meeting isn’t until the middle of the month."
“I know.” My fingers curled around the strap of my bag. “I think I left my notepad in the Mayor’s office last week. I searched high and low when I was writing my article this morning, but I couldn't find it. The last place I had it in hand was here. It’s got all my notes, and if I don't have it done today… Could I grab it real quick? I promise I’ll be fast.”
"You don't have to worry about her getting mad at you. She's hands-down the sweetest person I've ever met. Right, Margaret?" Nate gave her a charming grin.
Her gaze drifted down to her desk as a burning blush crawled up her throat. "Fine." She gestured down the hall. "But be quick."
“Thank you.” I darted past her, my steps light but deliberate, heart pounding as Nate’s low laughter followed me down the hall. It wrapped around me like a tether, grounding and unsettling all at once.
The stale, bitter air tasted of old coffee. It clung to the back of my throat as I moved toward the desk, every sound—my footsteps, the scrape of the chair legs—amplified in the stillness.
The portrait loomed above me, its gilded frame threatening to alarm the moment I touched it. Hunting dogs frozen mid- pounce, teeth bared, eyes wild. A scene meant to evoke pride, maybe, or nostalgia.
Why did I feel like prey under their painted gaze?
The heavy frame swung on well-oiled hinges, my breath hitched, my muscles locked in tight. Behind it, the safe gleamed like something alive and waiting.
My fingers hovered over the dial, slick with sweat, trembling.
Get it together, Ava.
Open the safe, look inside, and get out.
Three spins to the left. The numbers ticked past, each one a tiny hammer blow. Two to the right. The sound of my own breathing filled the room, fast and shallow, louder than it should’ve been. One more left.
Click .
My chest seized as I pulled the door open, slow and careful, my gaze trailing over my shoulder toward the door, then back to the manila folders inside stacked as ordinary as the morning mail.
I grabbed the first pile of loose papers and flipped it open, then grabbed my phone and snapped photos of each page, front and back. Paper rustled, sharp and brittle, like the sound of dry leaves underfoot.
One folder. Two. Three. I didn’t look too closely. I couldn’t. The air in the room thinned like the walls closed in.
Halfway through the stack, my phone buzzed in my hand. The vibration jolted me.
Unknown
The clock strikes one, the shadows grow,
Whispers in the alley, a chilling flow.
Footsteps echo, a warning shout,
"The Mayor is coming—get out, get out!"
Oh, shit.
The message blazed across my phone like a flare in the dark, igniting panic that surged hot and sharp through my veins. I snapped a picture of the last page and shoved the papers into a messy pile before cramming them back into the safe. The edges snagged each other, refusing to cooperate as if the documents themselves were screaming, You’re out of time.
My breath hitched as I twisted the dial—the faint tick of the tumblers amplifying in the choking silence. I forced out a rough, hollow cough as the lock clicked into place—too loud, too final . The sound echoed like a judge’s gavel slamming down.
Heavy footsteps drew closer, each one a hammer driving the nails into my coffin. I swung the portrait into place and dropped to the floor, my knees hitting the expensive flooring with a dull thud. Driving my hand into my bag, I pulled my notepad from my bag and placed it a few feet from my hands.
The doorknob turned.
A sharp intake of breath caught in my throat.
The door swung open.
"Ava?" His peppery voice drove a spear through my chest. "What are you doing here?"
" Ah-ha ." I reached for the notepad, and I sat up on my knees, gripping it like it was a golden ticket, the back of my head slamming into the bottom of the chair. "I found it." I forced a sheepish smile, masking the fear snaking up my spine as my hand covered the back of my aching head. “Oh hey, Mayor Haynes."
Goddammit, that hurt.
"Again, what are you doing in my office?" Mayor Haynes’s face darkened, the lines around his mouth deepening as he studied me with the precision of a predator scenting something off.
I rubbed the back of my head and stood. "Oh, um , Margaret said I could come find my notepad I'd left behind. Didn't she tell you?"
“No, she did not." He arched his brow. "I don’t remember you leaving your notepad here.”
"Well, if you would've known it was here, then it wouldn't have been lost." My chest clamping down in panic. “Thank God your cleaner doesn’t vacuum under the chairs very well, or this little guy would’ve been a goner.” I waved the notepad in the air, forcing a laugh that didn’t quite reach my eyes.
Mayor Haynes's gaze suffocated me, his glare pinning me in place, causing my heart to pound harder against my ribs. “I’ll walk you out.”
"No need. I don't want to incon—"
"I insist." He reached his hand out and ushered me out of his office, my stomach flipping with nausea—each step beside him was like walking on a razor’s edge.
I clutched the notepad, the corners biting into my palm.
The front desk came into view, and Margaret sat behind it, fiddling with paperwork on the surface.
Where's Nate?
Did he leave me?
Why the hell didn't he tell me the Mayor was coming?
"Margaret, I found Ms. Thatcher in my office... alone. Haven't I explicitly mentioned in the past that no one is allowed to enter without my permission?"
"I'm so sorry." Her gaze darted to mine, my shoulders falling in. "She wasn't in there but for a minute."
"No one..."
I slipped away from his light but controlling hold. "I'm sorry to cause any trouble. I really do need to get my story written."
Speed walking, I hit the office doors.
"We'll discuss this another time, Ms. Thatcher."
The Mayor's booming voice followed me out the door, my heart trying to escape through my throat.
Oh my God.
I did it.
The cool air outside hit my face like a sobering, sharp slap. My pulse pounded in my ears as I hurried to the car, the weight of what I’d done pressing against my chest like a boulder.
I'm going to prison.
Or worse... Hell.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, I exhaled a held breath and placed my phone in the console next to Nate, his posture tense. "Oh good, he didn't catch you."
"No thanks to you."
"Sorry, by the time I saw him, it was too late to send a text. I didn't want your phone to ding in his office and draw attention."
I glared and tossed my bag into the back seat, my pounding heart choking out my lungs.
“Did he see you near the safe?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I was under the chair when he came in.”
Nate’s eyes locked onto mine, dark and searching. “Under the chair? Why?”
My eye twitched in time with my bobbing knee, my hand rubbing the residual ache. "I dropped my notebook."
Nate snagged my phone and flipped through the photos. "This doesn't look like much."
"Most of it was routine financial documentation—ledgers, transaction logs, and receipts. At least, that was what I thought at first glance." I pointed to a photo as he scrolled, then took the phone from his hand. "I'm going to be going over this information for weeks. Look at this. Senator Blackwell, Mayor Fitz in Tampa, Keith Brent... Hey..." I glared as he pulled the phone away, his eyes widening. "You okay?"
He nodded, the look vanishing without a trace. "Yeah, surprised is all. This is a lot of known people." He handed me back the phone. "But these could be for anything."
"I know. I need to go through it."
"Ava, you really need to be careful with this information. These people are powerful and rich, and those two things can get you almost anything you want. Including a journalist wiped off the map." Nate gave me a firm look.
History had a way of proving his statement true.
There had been a multitude of journalists 'wiped off the map' for simply inquiring and asking the wrong questions.
If history dictated my fate, and this was as serious as it must be, all bets were off on who I could trust.
Of course, he was right, but I was already aware of that. I was the one who made my job a dangerous one, but I wasn't scared enough to stop. If all of these powerful people did something wrong, the public deserved to know. We elected these people. We supported them, but we could also tear them down if driven enough.
These documents could be that spark of motivation. They could be the key to unraveling this whole weird conspiracy and whatever else was tangled up with NeuraZene. I was deeper in this than ever before, and I would take the plunge whether Nate was along for the ride or not.