Chapter 18 Jasmine
JASMINE
As much as I appreciated the sisters and their attempts to make this feel normal, I needed quiet.
My brain felt like it had been shaken in a jar for the last twenty-four hours. Between the raid, the masked man, the revelation about cameras, and the possibility that I was some kind of corporate sacrificial lamb, I could’ve sat in a dark room staring at a wall and called it productive.
The jambalaya had been too good to ignore, though. With two sodas and a rapidly declining sense of self-control, I’d justified two full bowls.
I’d never had jambalaya before.
Apparently, trauma unlocked new cuisine.
“All right,” I muttered as I dragged a chair closer to the mounted screens, “let’s see how good these cameras actually are.”
If they could watch me, then I could watch back.
I sank into the chair and leaned back just enough to prop my feet on the cheap excuse for a desk. The desk looked like it had been assembled in under ten minutes with missing screws, but the monitors? Those were high-end. Crisp resolution. Zero lag.
It was obvious where the money went.
I wrapped my fingers around my iced Coke and took a slow sip while the feeds stabilized. The living room camera came into focus first.
And there it was.
My apartment.
Or what was left of it.
Cushions gutted. Drawers pulled out. Papers scattered across the floor like someone had shaken my entire life upside down and waited to see what fell out.
My throat tightened.
I let a couple tears fall because holding them back would’ve required energy I didn’t have, but I didn’t let myself spiral.
I never really had the luxury of spiraling.
I sat there for close to an hour, watching empty rooms and trying to memorize what was broken so I could fix it later.
Then shadows moved across the living room feed.
Two of them.
My heart kicked hard against my ribs as they stepped fully into frame.
Ghost was the first one I recognized, even without seeing his face. The way he moved was different from everyone else. Controlled. Efficient. Like he was used to operating in rooms that didn’t belong to him.
He looked directly up at the camera mounted in the corner of my living room.
I narrowed my eyes. “Little shit.”
He knew exactly where it was.
They moved through my apartment quickly, not tearing it apart like the other men had done, but working with purpose. Ghost stepped into my bedroom and disappeared from the hallway feed, and I felt my jaw tighten.
He’d said no bedroom cameras.
Which meant I couldn’t see what he was doing in there.
Part of me was relieved.
Part of me hated that I didn’t know.
A few seconds later he reappeared, carrying one of my suitcases. He dropped it near the couch and went back for another. The other guy—Ranger, I thought—was gathering what looked like important documents from the kitchen table and stacking them neatly instead of leaving them strewn everywhere.
They weren’t looting.
They were consolidating.
Protecting.
I didn’t know whether that made me angrier or calmer.
On one hand, the invasion of privacy was still very much a thing. Cameras in my apartment. Men going through my bedroom. My life on display.
On the other hand, if those cameras hadn’t been there…
Would we have even known my place was raided?
Would I have gone back alone?
That thought made my stomach twist.
“Oh fuck,” I whispered suddenly.
My laptop.
I never told them where I kept it.
And if they didn’t grab it—
Then someone else might have.
“Shit,” I hissed as I kicked my feet off the desk.
“Is everything all right?”
The voice behind me made me squeak as I whipped up and turned around. With all six televisions going behind me, I watched as a blond-haired, blue-eyed man appeared in the doorway of Ghost’s room.
He lifted his hand. “Wrecker.”
Ah, Amanda’s man. I swallowed and gave a little wave. “Hi.”
He motioned to the television screens behind me. “You okay? My girl wanted me to come check on you. Said you made a quick exit from the kitchen table.”
I just shrugged and turned back to the monitors. “Is there any way to get a message to them while they’re in there?”
“Why?” the man asked.
“I forgot to tell them where I usually keep my work laptop, if those men haven’t already taken it.”
I felt him walk up beside me and I flinched a bit.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
I shook my head softly. “Just a reflex.”
I felt him staring down at me, but I didn’t look back up at him, I continued to look at the screen.
“Where do you usually keep it?” he finally asked.
“Under the fridge,” I said.
I felt his confusion. “Under the fridge?”
I nodded. “Mhm.”
“Why?”
“It was something my boss told me to do when I was issued the laptop for work.”
There was a pause. “He told you to put it under your fridge?”
“No, he told me to find a place where I could lock it down, so that if my place was ever robbed, no one would find it.”
“So, you put it under the fridge.”
I shrugged as I looked up at him. “Who looks under the fridge when robbing someone, you know?”
Those icy blue eyes of his studied my face. “Yeah.”
I furrowed my brow. “What?”
He drew in a short breath and looked back at the screens. “Nothing, just thinking.”
“About?”
“Why your boss would be so concerned about keeping your laptop from being stolen. Most work laptops can be accessed and wiped remotely.”
I furrowed my brow as I turned my attention back to the screens as well. “Oh.”
Just as the two of us fell silent, I watched the slender man in the kitchen dip down. I paused. I waited. Holy fuck, was he actually going to check?
“Please, come on, please still be there,” I whispered.
And when the man jumped up from the floor, I found him holding the black laptop in his hand.
“Yes!” I exclaimed as I pumped my fist in the air. “It’s still there.”
Wrecker chuckled, but didn’t say anything else as he exited the room that we were in.
I didn’t care. They found my laptop, which meant we were in business.
I turned my back to the screens and finished my food, sipping on my Coke as I made my way back out to the kitchen.
Of the men I passed by, some of them nodded their heads. A few gave me a soft wave.
I didn’t see the girls, though.
But then again, I didn’t see their men, either.
That made me grin as I placed my glass into the sink.
I made my way back into Ghost’s room and I perched back at the desk. I didn’t know what else to do to pass the time, so I watched them. I couldn’t help but smile as I saw how Ghost place my things in suitcase, grabbing everything that wasn’t destroyed.
But eventually they left, and that started the countdown for when they got back. It was just a little under an hour before I heard heavy footfalls tearing through the clubhouse.
I stood and turned to face the door just as Ghost burst through it with two of my suitcases and a carry-on in tow.
And when his eyes met mine, I thumbed over my shoulder at the screens. “You always watch people’s living rooms for fun, or am I just special?”
Even I saw the way he grinned beneath that mask as it reached his eyes. They crinkled for a moment before he abandoned my suitcases on top of the bed. But then he reached into one of the outer compartments of my suitcase and slid out my laptop before tossing it onto the bed.
“I’m so glad you found it,” I said as I made my way toward it, “I asked Wrecker earlier if there was a way to get you guys a message. I completely forgot—”
The instant I tried reaching for it, he smacked his hand down on top of it.
“Ghost?” I asked with a furrowed brow. “Everything okay?”
He tilted his head. “Why do you keep your laptop under the fridge?”
I blinked. “Becaaaause, my boss told me to find an obscure place to put it when I wasn’t using it, should I ever get robbed.”
His eyes surveyed my face for a while. “So you chose underneath the fridge?”
I shrugged. “Do robbers ever check under the fridge for things?”
“We did.”
“Are you robbers?”
He blinked. “Why didn’t you tell us about your hiding place for your laptop before we left?”
I didn’t like the third degree. It felt… like I was being interrogated. “I just didn’t think about it.”
“When we talked about going and getting your laptop?”
I scoffed as I took a step back. “Okay, over the last few days, I’ve been stalked, I’ve had cameras put up in my apartment, I’ve been kidnapped, rescued, dragged here, interrogated while crying, told I have to stay here for my own fucking good, and now you’re…
what? Pissed off that you don’t have every ounce of information about my life that you need?
Did you even stop to think for one second that I might be too overwhelmed with my life right now? ”
“Jasmine, I—”
“And another thing,” I said as I held my finger up, not allowing him a moment’s respite, “who the fuck are you to come in here and give me the third fucking degree like I’m some guilty party in all of this when I’ve fully dedicated myself to cooperating with you guys. Where do you get off—”
“Jaz.”
“What!?”
He held his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m sorry.”
My eyebrows were high on my forehead, and I regarded him with squinted eyes. “What?”
He lowered his hands. “I said I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s been a whirlwind for you these last few hours.”
“Hours?”
He nodded. “Hours. It’s only been hours since you’ve been at the clubhouse, not days.”
Hours, not days.
Fucking hell, it felt like days.
I went to apologize, like I always did when I wanted tension to go away. But he beat me to the punch.
“I have no doubt in my mind that this is what those men were looking for,” Ghost said as he picked up my laptop in his large hand. “But I also have no doubt in my mind that the instant you log in, they’re going to trace your location and come after you.”
I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes. Of fucking course they would. “So what do you suggest?”
“I’d like to give this to Range so that he can put protective parameters around things before we log you in. He’ll be able to buy us some time before things get hairy that way.”
I sighed as I ran my hands down my face. “The guy with the long hair and the dog as a constant shadow?”
“That’s him.”
I waved my hand dismissively in the air, turning back to the TV screens. “Fine, whatever.”
I was so very tired of all this.
“How the fuck did you get into my place to put up the cameras?” I asked with my back to him.
I felt him pause. “I puttied your keys.”
I whipped around and found him passing off my laptop to Ranger. “You what!?”
He turned back to me and stepped inside just enough to close the door behind himself. But he didn’t advance on me. He was an entire bedroom away, and that was how I fucking wanted it.
He leaned against the closed door, folding his arms over his chest. “When I first met you in your law firm, and you had to go into that meeting, I used an app Ranger designed and killed the cameras long enough to putty your keys. Then it was just a matter of having them all made.”
I shook my head softly. “But my address—”
“Is on your license.”
I felt so weak, I had to reach back to steady myself against the desk. “What the fuck.”
He took a step toward me. “Jaz, I know how this seems. But given everything that’s happened, do you understand why I did it?”
turned my back to him and braced my hands against the edge of the dresser, bending forward because my lungs felt too small for my body.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
I heard him move fast behind me.
“Jaz,” he said, voice lower now, controlled. “We’re not doing this for kicks.”
I let out a shaky laugh. “That’s comforting.”
“We reached out,” he continued. “Through old unit contacts. Someone federal is listening now.”
I closed my eyes.
“Listening,” I repeated.
“Yes.”
I straightened slowly and turned to face him. “Listening how?”
“We pass what we find,” he said. “They decide if it’s enough to open something formal. Right now, it’s not.”
“Who is ‘they’?”
He hesitated just long enough for me to notice.
“Justice,” he said finally. “Department of Justice. But this isn’t some task force situation. It’s early. They don’t even have eyes on Redd Valley yet.”
I swallowed hard.
“So let me get this straight,” I said, forcing myself to breathe evenly. “You’re actually a veteran.”
“Yes.”
“And you and your biker club are funneling information up the chain about a sex trafficking ring.”
“We’re gathering intel,” he corrected calmly. “They build cases. We don’t.”
“And you think my firm is tied to it.”
“Knows about it at the very least,” he said. “More likely involved.”
My stomach flipped.
“But you don’t know how.”
“Not yet.”
“And until you figure that out,” I continued, heat creeping back into my voice, “you put cameras in my apartment and drag me into the middle of it?”
His jaw tightened.
“Until we figure it out,” he said evenly, “we make sure you don’t end up being the one they hang it on.”
That hit harder than I expected.
“They’re positioning you,” he continued. “Low enough to blame. High enough to know things. That’s not accidental.”
The room felt smaller.
“You’re saying they’d make me the fall girl.”
“I’m saying if this blows and there’s no paper trail leading up the ladder, you’re the easiest sacrifice.”
Silence stretched between us.
“And Justice doesn’t know that yet,” I said quietly.
“No,” he replied. “Not yet.”
I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. “Is that why you wear the mask? Because you’re a veteran and don’t want your face to be seen throughout all of this? Or did you get injured?”
When he didn’t automatically respond, I dropped my hands and looked up at him.
Only to find that green-eyed intensity bearing down onto me.
“Well?” I asked as I flopped my hands out to the sides. “You put a fucking cameras in my apartment. You owe me answers.”
His eye twitched at that. “Yes.”
I tilted my head. “Yes, what?”
“I wear the mask because I was injured.”
It was my turn to pause. “What happened?”
He took a step toward me. “Jaz, I swear to you, you’re safe here. The cameras? They were just part of my role in all of this. I knew that you were the one we needed. The one we all needed to help us shed light on the inside of that place.”
“What happened to your face, Ghost?”
He shook his head and backtracked. “I should go see if Ranger’s done.”
“You passed off my laptop minutes ago. I’m sure he’s not—”
“I’ll go check anyway,” he said flatly.
I watched him storm out of his bedroom.
Like I was the one that had fucked up.