Chapter 15 Ghost
GHOST
I watched Ranger pluck the laptop off her lap. She stared at the wall, and I saw so many emotions flitting behind her eyes.
“You are not a bad person,” I said.
Her tear-filled gaze whipped to mine. “I-I-I—I’ve been in all those midnight meetings, Ghost. I—I do the minutes for them. That’s—that’s all. There’s—I hear what they talk about. It’s just… financial client stuff. Sometimes they want to drop someone. End a contract early. They make me—”
Watching her process was both heart-wrenching and weirdly amazing.
She was so much stronger than she gave herself credit for. I didn’t know much about her, but I already knew that much to be true.
She was so scared that she hurt people.
Bad people didn’t think that way.
I took her hands and cupped them in my palms. She shivered, and I didn’t like that. “Do you have any way to get your hands on those minutes? Because if they’re talking in code, we’ve got a guy, Scout, who can figure it out at the drop of a hat.”
Her lower lip quivered. “But they don’t talk about—”
“I know,” I said, and even I heard how soft my voice was. “Stay with me for a second, Jaz. I promise, we’re almost to the part where you can fall apart. Do you have a way to get your hands on those minutes for us?”
“Ghost,” Ranger muttered, “maybe she should rest.”
We had to keep going, though.
I had to keep her talking before her emotions locked her up for good. “Jasmine.”
She shook her head softly. “Huh?”
“Please.”
The air ejected itself from the room. I wasn’t sure I’d ever said that fucking word in my life. But at that moment, I didn’t care about my dignity, or my image, or how long my brothers would tease me over it once Ranger started running his fucking mouth.
I needed this woman to talk to us.
She cleared her throat. “Um… I mean, they’re on my work laptop. Why?”
I peeked over at Ranger, who still stood on the other side of the bed, before I dragged my stare back to Jasmine. She looked so damn petrified and guilty that it made me want to raze that entire firm to the ground just for making a sweet little thing like her complicit in all this.
Jesus fuck, for all we knew, she was who they meant to pin this all on if it went south.
It wouldn’t be the first time an innocent little bystander in a company took the fall for some shit like this.
“If they’re letting you take minutes of the meeting, then the meetings are very much in code. Do you video or voice record the meetings as well?” I asked.
She swallowed hard and nodded. “Both. It’s required by the firm. But I don’t have access to those without going to my desk. The minutes are on my laptop, but the audio and visual recordings are housed on a—”
When she paused, her eyes grew glassy.
“Oh fuck,” she whispered softly.
“What?” I asked, squeezing her hand softly to remind her that I was there. “What is it, Jasmine?”
Her lower lip quivered, and it broke something inside of me as her watery gaze returned. “They’re housed on a server that’s kept on the top floor where I work.”
That would make sense as to why the security presence there responded so fucking quickly to the cameras going down on the top floor.
“My work laptop is still at my apartment,” Jasmine whispered.
I nodded. “I know, we’ll make sure you get it. Ranger?”
“Yeah?”
“Go do your thing. I need to speak with Jasmine alone.”
“On it,” he said.
I didn’t speak again until I heard the door closed. “And get away from my fucking door!”
I heard Ranger tick his tongue. “Man. No fun.”
When I heard him moving back down the hallway, I glanced over my shoulder at the mounted screens along the wall and felt something heavy settle in my gut.
“Remember how I told you those weren’t televisions?” I asked carefully.
Jasmine followed my gaze, her brow furrowing as she looked at the dark screens. “Yeah…?”
I exhaled slowly.
“They’re monitoring screens,” I said. “They’re tied to security cameras.”
She went still. Completely still.
“In the building?” she asked.
“No,” I answered, and I didn’t soften it because there wasn’t a soft way to say it. “In your apartment.”
Her hands slipped out of mine like I’d burned her.
“They’re in my what?” she demanded, her voice sharp and thin all at once.
I stood immediately and held my hands out, palms open. “Listen to me. You’re hurt. You need to stay—”
“Cameras? In my apartment?” she snapped. “What the hell are you talking about? What kind of place is this? Are you out of your damn mind?”
Her breathing started to hitch, and I hated that I’d done that to her. Hated that this was the way she found out.
“I put them in common areas only,” I said quickly. “Entryway. Living room. Kitchen. Hallway. No bedroom. No bathroom. I needed to know if anyone was following you. If anyone was getting inside.”
Her eyes flashed. “You had no right.”
“You’re right,” I said. “But you were already in danger.”
That shut her up for half a second, not because she agreed, but because she didn’t know how to argue around it.
“I was going to tell you,” I continued. “I just needed—”
“To spy on me first?” she shot back.
I didn’t answer that.
Instead, I turned toward the screens.
“You deserve to see.”
One by one, I powered the monitors on and brought up the feeds. My desktop flickered to life, the cameras connecting automatically.
I braced myself for her to start screaming at me again.
For her to lose it over the invasion.
For her to call me every name in the book.
But when the first feed came into focus, she made a sound that didn’t belong to anger.
“Oh my God…”
It wasn’t rage.
It was horror.
I followed her gaze.
And my stomach dropped.
Her apartment wasn’t empty.
Two men were inside.
Drawers yanked open. Cushions ripped apart. One of them flipped her kitchen chair over like he was searching for something taped underneath it.
“Jesus Christ,” I breathed.
“CAAAAAP!” I bellowed.
He was already moving before I finished shouting, barreling into the room as Jasmine shoved the blankets off herself.
“Hey—!” I grabbed for her as she tried to stand on feet that weren’t ready to hold her weight.
She elbowed me hard enough to make me grunt, desperation fueling strength she didn’t actually have.
“That’s my apartment!” she cried. “That’s my home!”
“I know,” I said, catching her before she pitched forward. “I know.”
Cap swore behind me as we all stared at the screens.
They weren’t searching casually.
They were tearing it apart.
Systematically.
Looking for something specific.
And if they were that confident breaking in while she was gone—
Then they weren’t worried about her coming back.
Which meant they knew exactly where she was supposed to be tonight.
And that realization hit harder than anything else.
“No! My Playstation!” she exclaimed.
I watched as the men smashed it just because they could.
“Not my clothes. Anything but—please! Stop it! Do these have microphones!?” she asked as she whipped her tear-stained face up to me. “Please tell me we can talk to them and tell them to stop!”
I just looked over at my shoulder at Cap. At the way his jaw worked while we watched the crew in all black tear this woman’s home apart.
She collapsed into a fit of tears and I caught her before drawing her close.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered as I stroked my hand mindlessly through her hair.
We watched helplessly as they destroyed her mattress, pulling out the fucking stuffing. They smashed her television. Crashed her windows. Pulled out dishes and slammed them onto the ground. They weren’t just looking for something, they were sending a message.
Jasmine’s sobs soaked my shirt, and an anger unlike anything I’d ever experienced bled through my veins.
Well, I experienced it one other time.
But I didn’t want to think about that.
“No-o-o-o-oooo,” she sobbed out as her legs finally collapsed from beneath her altogether.
It didn’t matter, though.
I just held her to me and pressed my lips to the shell of her ear. “Things can be replaced. The point is, you’re safe here. No one is getting to you here, not on my watch.”
“My ho-o-o-ooome,” she sobbed out as she turned into me.
I wrapped my arms around her while her fists clenched down against my shirt.
I settled my chin on top of her head and watched every single movement those assholes made in her place.
They didn’t have a fucking clue the cameras were there.
I knew that because they hadn’t gone for them yet. And when I was good, I was good.
They’d never find those cameras.
“Tell me you’re recording this,” Cap said.
“Every second,” I muttered.
I slid my hand up and down Jasmine’s back while threading my other hand through her hair.
Somehow I got us sat down and I pulled her into my lap while we continued to watch.
We watched them take food out and smash it onto the ground.
We watched as they tipped her couch up, ripping into the cushions and digging out the stuffing.
But eventually, the men started getting angry before they all looked at one another and took off running.
Fucking hell, I was springing for the goddamn microphones next time.
“Wh-wh-wh—what is h-h-h-h—appen—ing?” Jasmine choked out.
“I don’t know,” I muttered as Cap turned around and stormed out of my room. “But I swear to you with everything that I am, I’ll figure it out. And I’ll make sure your stuff is replaced.”