Chapter 19 #2
Two floors below, I catch the movement of shadows between staircase flights, moving up toward my location. Not the chaotic hustle of building security responding to an alarm, but the synchronized, deliberate movement of trained operatives as they sweep upward.
“South stairwell compromised,” I whisper into my comm. “Moving to alternate exit.”
“Roger that,” Avery responds. “Be advised, we’re seeing multiple teams converging on all exits.”
I pull back from the stairwell, mind racing through building schematics. They’re moving in a Rockford formation, designed to herd a target toward a pre-positioned capture team.
Which means Aaiden sent them.
Anger burns through me. Had they somehow tracked my location during my brief call to my mom? The new phone I have is supposed to bounce them all over the world, but maybe I’d given myself away somehow.
“Jade, I’ve got visual on the teams outside,” Rico’s voice crackles through my earpiece. “These aren’t regular security. Military-grade gear, comm systems, coordinated movement patterns.”
“Rockford men,” I confirm, already moving back toward the service area. “They’re herding us. Stick to the original extraction route, all of you. I’ll draw them off.”
“That’s not the plan,” Avery cuts in.
“Plans change.” I search the maintenance corridor and spot an access panel for building systems. “They’re here for me, not you. Meet at the secondary location.”
I rip the panel free, revealing a narrow crawlspace between the walls. Pipes and electrical conduits crowd the space, leaving just enough room to squeeze through. The shaft rises up alongside the elevator banks, providing maintenance access to each floor.
“Jace, what’s the status on the fifteenth floor?” I grunt, pulling myself up using pipes and brackets.
“Clear for now. But they’re moving up fast.”
I climb three more floors before emerging into another service corridor. The window at the end glows with city light. My new exit point. The glass is reinforced, but the frame is older and weaker where it meets the wall.
Three solid kicks and the entire frame gives way, rain-soaked air rushing in. Outside, a fire escape clings to the building’s face, slick with rain and rusted from years of neglect. I step out onto the metal platform, wincing as it groans under my weight.
Maybe I should cut back on those second helpings of Jace’s cooking.
At fifteen floors up, the wind whips my hair, while the city sprawls below in a grid of light and shadow. Three blocks north, I spot the distinctive black SUVs of Rockford Security positioned at street intersections. They’re not even trying to be subtle.
The fire escape shudders with each step as I descend, the metal slippery beneath my boots. Eight floors down, the ancient bolts securing the structure to the building wall give an ominous creak.
My heart lurches as I check the distance to the group. Still too far to jump without risk.
My comm crackles with static. “They’re jamming communications—”
Fucking perfect.
Four more floors down, I spot movement on the street below as tactical teams spread out, covering all possible landing zones from the fire escape. I change direction, swinging from the outer railing to an adjacent window ledge, fingers gripping wet stone as I edge toward the neighboring building.
The distance between structures is wider than I’d like, maybe six feet of open air with a three-story drop below. Not high enough to kill me, probably, but high enough to do serious damage. I take three deep breaths, muscles coiling, and launch myself across the void.
For one suspended moment, there’s nothing but rain and air and the distant sound of traffic. Then my hands catch the opposite ledge, the impact jarring through my shoulders. My boots scramble for purchase on smooth brick before finding a narrow outcropping.
I pull myself up and onto the neighboring building’s roof, rolling to my feet as a spotlight sweeps the area I just left.
Staying in a crouch, I sprint across the rooftop toward the opposite side of the building.
Below, more black-clad figures emerge from vehicles, their movement patterns unmistakable.
Caleb’s team on the east side. Damien’s men on the west. The pincer strategy had been ingrained into my memory at the very start of my training.
The irony isn’t lost on me as I drop down onto another fire escape, this one leading to an alley. Three more buildings, cutting through service corridors and employee-only areas, and I burst through the back door of a pulsing nightclub.
Bass throbs through my bones as I push through the crowd, keeping my head down, letting the crush of bodies hide me from view. Strobing lights and artificial fog provide perfect cover as I beeline toward the front entrance as another sweaty patron heads out for air.
The bouncer steps to the side as I slip past him onto a crowded street. I blend with a passing group of partygoers, allowing their drunken laughter to carry me half a block before breaking away down another alley.
Rain plasters my hair to my forehead when I finally stop and lean back against the cold brick, listening for pursuit. Nothing but distant traffic and the thump of bass from the club.
For now, I’ve lost them.
My chest heaves with exertion, muscles burning from the climb and jump. Water drips from my chin onto my tactical vest as I pull out my phone, not the burner Avery gave me, but a secondary one I’d stashed earlier this week as insurance for this precise scenario.
Blood smears the screen as I punch in the number.
The phone connects after one ring, as if he’s been waiting by it.
Maybe he has.
I hold it to my ear, water streaming down my face, rage building with each breath. “Call off your dogs. Now.”
“Jade.” My name slides through the phone like warm honey, as if we’re discussing dinner plans instead of a tactical pursuit through downtown. “Are you hurt?”
“If I were, it would have been your fault.” I keep an eye on the mouth of the alley for signs of his men. “Call them off before someone gets killed.”
“They have orders not to harm you.” His calmness only fuels my anger.
“Yeah? So what’s with the team carrying tactical rifles, herding me across rooftops?”
“Non-lethal weapons.” A pause, then softer, “I would never risk your safety.”
My bark of laughter echoes off the wet brick around me. “Says the man who sent a small army after me.”
“You’ve left me little choice. I did warn you that once I started, I wouldn’t stop. You are my Omega, Jade.”
My pulse leaps at the reminder as heat sizzles through my blood, and this time, it has nothing to do with anger.
“Last night, I reached for you in my sleep, but you weren’t there,” he purrs into the phone, and a shiver goes through me. “Your scent has almost vanished from the sheets.”
Heat gathers in my hips despite the cold rain soaking through my clothes. “Don’t do this.”
“Do what?” His voice strokes me from head to toe. “Tell you how I wake up hard and aching, remembering the warmth of your body on top of me? The sounds you made when I was deep inside you?”
My free hand finds the rough brick behind me, needing something solid to ground me as my body responds to his words. “Stop it.”
“I can still taste you on my tongue.” He continues as if I hadn’t spoken. “Still feel how tight you were around my fingers, around my cock.”
“Aaiden.” His name cracks on its way past my lips, caught between warning and plea.
“Do you touch yourself at night, Jade?” The question slides between my ribs like a knife. “Do you wrap your hand around your dick and pretend it’s mine?”
My dick tests the confines of my tactical pants, hardening despite the adrenaline crash, despite the blood still tacky on my hands.
I fight the images his words conjure. “Shut up.”
“I do,” he admits, dropping into a growl. “Every night. I lie in our bed and stroke myself while remembering how perfect you felt. How your back arched when I hit your sweet spot, and you’d cry out.”
The memory flashes, vivid and electric. Aaiden above me, green eyes locked on mine as he worked his cock into me, stretching me open. The fullness. The burning pleasure. The feeling of finally, finally having what I’d wanted for so many years.
My breathing quickens, my body responding even though he’s not even with me. “This isn’t fair.”
“Nothing about this situation is fair.” The rustle that comes through the phone suggests he’s shifting position. “You ran before we could talk. Before I could explain.”
“You should have explained years ago.” I push off from the wall. “And you definitely should have explained before you spent my Heat with me.”
“Yes.” The simple admission surprises me. “That was my mistake. One of many. I wanted to let you finish your revenge before claiming you.”
Rain continues to fall, soaking through my clothes, but the cold doesn’t register anymore. My body burns from the inside out, memory and desire warring with pride and hurt.
“Come back to me, Jade.” The request wraps around me like an embrace. “Let me make this right.”
“I have work to finish.” The excuse sounds hollow to my own ears.
“The revenge you’re chasing won’t heal you.” The gentleness in his voice tears at my resolve. “I’ve watched you cross names off your list for months. Has it brought you peace? Has it filled the emptiness?”
My throat tightens, the question hitting too close to home. “I’ll come back when I’m ready. Not because you want me to.”
Tension hums through the silence that follows. I can almost see him sitting in his office, phone pressed to his ear, jaw tight with the effort of not issuing commands.
“Come home,” he says at last. “Please.”
I end the call before I give in to the pull of his whispered words and the promises they hold. My hand trembles as I lower the phone, staring at the blood-smeared screen until rain washes it clean.
My anger hasn’t dissipated, but now it’s tangled with the knowledge Raphael shared, and with the heat still pooling in my hips from Aaiden’s words.
Being Aaiden Rockford’s mate means stepping into a spotlight I’ve always avoided. It means trading shadows for boardrooms, anonymity for public scrutiny.
But it also means never sleeping alone again. Never doubting where I stand. Never wondering if I’m wanted.
I force the tension from my shoulders, my jaw, my hands.
I’m not yet ready to decide. There’s still work to do, names on my list to be crossed off.
The broken pieces of me still believe finishing it might fill the emptiness that each kill leaves behind, but the screaming demand for blood has lost its urgency.
I push away from the wall and start walking with purpose, even as my destination slips further out of reach.
The real question isn’t whether I’ll return to him.
It’s what version of myself I’ll be when I do.