Chapter 42 #2
My heart stills, and my eyes widen. Jack turns to me slowly, the doors audibly unlocking, groaning as they slide apart.
“Mum came here every spring. She tried to tell you, G.”
Poppy grumbles, “Way to make her feel guilty, dick.”
He raises a brow, amused. Then his eyes drop to her wedding ring, and he looks like he might say something. Jack clears his throat before turning back round.
“How’s Andy?” he asks. “I miss that son of a bitch.”
“Alive,” Harry clips.
“Barely,” Poppy counters. “Richard damaged the fuck out of that man. Though you wouldn’t care about that, would you?”
Jack whips his head towards her as we follow him down a long staircase, a flicker of something unspoken behind his eyes before he turns back ahead.
The underground air is cooler, and I can feel it sinking into my bones as we descend.
Harry walks silently at my side, close enough that our arms graze every so often.
The stairs open onto a vast open space that stretches far. Bright white light spills from the ceilings, highlighting the fact we didn’t just walk into a basement. This place is a fucking fortress.
There are rows and rows of workstations, each one manned. Maps pinned with red lines and blinking dots cover an entire wall, while a whole workforce of armed people move through the space with quiet urgency. Monitors flicker with code, satellite imagery, and encrypted message threads.
“Not quite as charming as Notre Dame, but much harder to be tracked in,” Jack says without turning round.
“What is this place?” Poppy asks.
“A former wine storage facility,” he replies. “Now it stores the biggest international manhunt in Europe, and occasionally decent espresso.”
Jack leads us past a long, glass-enclosed room, where two women are arguing over a decrypted blueprint. One of them looks up and nods at Jack. He nods back then glances to us.
“They’ve been tracking Richard’s movements. We’ve had eyes from overseas, with a group extracting women when they can. We’re yet to find where they’re being held hostage, but we’re getting close.”
Harry scoffs as if he knows the feeling.
I glance at Jack then. Did he know our dad once tried to sell me to the highest bidder? If he does, he says nothing, continuing ahead.
We turn a corner, entering a narrow corridor. Jack presses his palm to a scanner. A door hisses, opening to reveal a private chamber. Part office, part fucking war room. There’s a sleek black table in the centre, digital interface embedded in its surface. Maps flicker to life as we step inside.
The door seals behind us with an airless click.
Jack throws himself into one of the leather chairs as if he owns the place. Because, apparently, he does.
“This is what I’ve been building since I disappeared,” he says, stretching his legs out. He taps the glowing map on the table. A red dot pulses just outside of London, and I recognise it as the Circle headquarters. Another pops up at Pixies. I force myself to blink again, because … what the fuck?
“I know this is a lot,” he says quieter now. “But the next few weeks are going to shape everything. I didn’t just lead you guys out here to play catch-up.”
I stand by the monitor table, Poppy at my left, watching the red pins blink tauntingly. Jack’s face is lit by the screen, stripped of jokes. Harry stands to the side, arms folded, eyes flickering to the map.
Jack sighs. “We need someone inside.”
I glance at him, already bracing.
“I need someone who can get close to Richard and hear the plans. I don’t mean bugged phones and satellite feeds – I mean inside. A pair of eyes right next to him.”
He doesn’t look at Harry. Doesn’t look at Poppy. Doesn’t look towards the hall at the surveillance crew.
He looks at me.
“You’re the only one who makes sense,” he says. “It has to be you.”
I stare at him, waiting to feel something like fear or rage or purpose, but all I feel is the same numbness I’ve felt since I slipped the ring onto my finger.
“We saw the engagement in the papers last week. One of our analysts flagged it,” Jack continues, oblivious. “You’re engaged to Jamie. That grants you access no one else has. He trusts you.”
The words don’t exactly shock me, but hearing them out loud, spoken so simply, like it’s just a fact of nature, makes my stomach twist. I see Poppy flinch barely. She knows what returning to Jamie’s arms means, and she doesn’t say a word, because I made her swear she never would.
“You want me to go back,” I say.
“We’ve heard talks of something happening at Pixies. We suspect potential buyers are flying in. If I can gather more information, we could put a stop to all this. Imagine the lives we’d save.” His gaze is strong, unrelenting. “Just give me a few months – weeks, even – of tracking Richard up close.”
I swallow, my throat burning. Harry shifts beside me, arms flexing where they’re braced against the table.
The room feels like it’s holding its breath.
Jack watches me, and there’s something different in his eyes. “I need you to say it, G,” he says gently. “Are you all right with this?”
The question hangs in the air between us. I inhale through my nose. I’ve practiced this breath. I’ve learned to make “I’m fine” sound like gospel. This is about the safety of women.
“I’ll do it,” I say. “Whatever you need, I’ll make it work.”
Jack searches my face as if he almost knows. But then the moment passes, and he nods once. “Good,” he says. “You’ll report directly to me. No one else.”
“That’s a hell of a risk,” Harry says.
I finally look at him. He’s staring at Jack, his jaw tight, eyes dark with something other than suspicion.
“She’ll be fine,” Jack says.
Harry’s eyes flick to me just for a second. “Will she?”
“Yes.”
“I can handle it,” I say.
Harry’s voice is low. “You shouldn’t have to.”
“It’s her fiancé,” Poppy says blatantly.
“Well-the-fuck-aware.”
She feeds into the lie. “She’ll be okay.”
I nod even if I don’t fully believe it myself. “What if Jamie finds out?” My voice breaks a little on his name, and I cover it with a cough.
Poppy folds her arms like she’s bracing.
“He won’t,” Jack says smoothly. “Because we’ll train you properly.”
I turn towards him.
“You’re not going without defence,” he says, his voice calm but sharp. “You’ll train. Combat. Tactical. We’ll start right now and figure out a plan for when you’re home.”
I’m half-tempted to say I can handle myself to avoid suspicion, but if I’m to return into Jamie and Richard’s clutches, I’ll need all the training I can get.
I nod. Then I glance at Harry, whose eyes are narrowed. He doesn’t know what Jamie’s done, but he knows there’s something I’m not telling him. The thought terrifies me.
Jack goes on. “We have a team specifically dedicated to building women’s strength—”
Harry cuts in firmly. “I’ll do it.”
Jack looks between us, amused. “Well, I was going to suggest Nathan. He’s excellent with hand-to-hand—”
“I said I’ll do it.” Harry’s voice drops into something possessive and final.
Jack hasn’t stopped smiling since he butted in.
Pulling himself together, he says, “I’ll walk you through communication set-up later.
In the meantime …” He tosses me a key card from across the room.
“We have a secure penthouse downtown. Our guys are moving your stuff in as we speak. There’s a spare room for each of you.
No cameras inside, just perimeter tracking.
Don’t touch anything encrypted, don’t answer the landline, and don’t snoop in the drawer by the bed. ”
“What drawer?” Poppy asks.
Jack winks. “Exactly.”
She rolls her eyes, but there’s a ghost of a smile on her lips.
She’s not the same round him. Their history walks between them. I don’t know what happened, but I know it left a mark. I know Poppy still looks at him like she wants to throw him off a cliff and kiss him in the same breath.