Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
Everyone’s already seated at the big table when I walk in. No one’s speaking, and all eyes turn to look at me. With ease, I stroll toward the head of the table. In a way, it’s rather nostalgic. It’s Dad’s seat, and without him, it feels empty.
I shove the feelings aside, sprawling my legs under the table, looking at each and every person sitting there.
On the left are Cove, Lucas, Niko, Raven.
On the right are Aria, Freya, and two of the men Aria seems to trust a lot these days — Brian and Keith.
Apparently, they do the job just right and don’t ask too many questions.
I’m not sure if it warrants the seat at the table, but for now, I let it go. There are empty seats for Dad, Mom, Blair, and X. X is… well, X. God knows where that man is, if and when he’ll be seen again. As for Blair, she should be joining us shortly.
Freya looks better. Just as grumpy, just as stoic, but with a little less weight. She’d lost a bit due to all the trauma she endured, and her eye is bandaged up. No one dares to ask her anything about it, because having her snap at us is the last thing anyone needs right now.
Jewel, on the other hand, is feeling shy. She’s a short woman with long, blonde hair and a certain look of innocence in her eyes. She’s one of the newer people, and Freya brought her in personally, which is all I need to trust her.
“Aria did a phenomenal job of leading everything while I was gone.” I clasp my hands in front of me on the table. “But it’s time for her to rest a little.”
“I don’t need rest,” Aria huffs, crossing her arms. It’s endearing, the way she looks like a petulant child.
“I wasn’t asking. You will rest.”
She rolls her eyes, sighs, but drops the subject. She knows the importance of what I’ll speak about, and she won’t interrupt or take attention away from what needs to be done.
“Let’s start with Amy Marshall.”
Everyone straightens up in their seats, and Lucas pulls out a laptop from his bag. It takes him a while to turn the device on and find what he’s looking for, but once he’s done, he turns the screen so everyone can see.
“This is what we have recorded on the night Amy Marshall escaped.”
He presses the play button, and the video starts.
The timestamp in the corner says 23:14, which aligns with the time people noticed her missing. A man approaches the door of the room she was being kept in, in the basement of the old base.
My brows narrow.
I can tell it’s a man, but who? Not a fucking clue.
He’s tall, just like ninety percent of men that had access to the base.
He’s wearing all black, a pair of sweats and a hoodie that conveniently covers his face.
He’s definitely someone within the business, because he’s avoiding cameras like the plague. He knows where they are.
My jaw clenches when he pulls out the master key, and with ease, he unlocks the door, which sets Amy free. She looks at him, a bewildered look on her face, but no words are exchanged.
With that, he grabs her wrist and starts pulling her out of the basement.
Lucas shuts the laptop, then leans back in the chair.
“The rest is more or less the same,” he says. “He takes her out, and since he’s one of our own, he knows where all of the security is. They took the back door.”
“Alright. Who’s been trying to find her?”
“That would be me,” one of the newer ones lifts his hand, Keith. “I’m very good at pursuit. That was what I did for a living before joining.”
I nod. “Anything?”
“She hasn’t gone to any of the previous locations that are connected to Amy Marshall or the alias she uses. She’s lying low, but she will have to appear sooner or later. I’m keeping an eye out.”
“Good. If anything pops up, tell Aria, or find me.”
The man nods, and I turn my attention to Niko.
He looks like shit, which isn’t surprising.
He’s listening but isn’t hearing a damned thing we’re talking about.
For a moment, I debate whether or not to let him be, knowing just how much he’s grieving.
He feels like he failed all of them — Mom, Aunt Jane, and Luna.
But time is of essence, and I can’t let him get swallowed by the abyss that grief can be.
“Niko,” I call out, though not as roughly. “You visited Dad. How’s Simmons doing in prison?”
“He says you should stop being a pussy and visit him yourself.” Niko snorts, and for a brief moment, I see a flicker of the old Niko. It’s gone before I can feel any way about it.
I chuckle, shaking my head.
I’ve been postponing paying Dad a visit for many reasons, one of them being that I’d inevitably come face-to-face with Paul Simmons as well, and I don’t think I’d be able to keep my anger at bay.
In fact, I’d likely slaughter him like the pig that he is, then regret it because it should be Blair to do it.
“But, as far as Simmons is concerned,” Niko continues, my eyes fully on him.
“The media pressure is insane. His team is trying to get him transferred to a more secure prison, but since no harm has come his way yet, they have no leg to stand on. Hudson spread the word around that his daughter-in-law is one of Paul’s victims and that she’ll be the one to kill him.
Evidently, Hudson’s word in prison is the law, because no one’s touched Simmons directly.
They slapped him around a bit, but just to scare him off. ”
“That’s good.” Aria breathes out. “It’ll keep him busy until his time comes. What about the other two?”
“A little birdie notified the media about their involvement with Paul’s human trafficking organization and all of the crimes they’ve committed. They’ve gone off-grid.”
“That won’t do anymore,” I interrupt, and Lucas clamps his mouth shut. “Find both of them.”
“Do we capture them?” Cove asks.
“No. I won’t risk it. Just find them, and we’ll go to them. While you’re at it, find me the location of all the jury members and the judge that worked Blair’s case and sent her to prison.”
“You’re going to kill them, too.”
The words come out of Cove’s mouth as a statement. He knows me well enough to understand I’d never leave those motherfuckers alive, and if I’m going to take everyone down, I’ll do it at the same time.
“Obviously.”
“What are you going to do about Arnault, though?”
Worry seeps into Aria’s voice as she looks at me. With a sigh, I lean back in the chair, folding my arms in front of my chest and one ankle over the other under the table. The thoughts of that man keep appearing, and I don’t like it.
“He’s still surveilling the house.” I look up at the ceiling, brows narrowed. “He’s trying to find anything after his search of the house failed. I’d rather not have to kill an agent, but if I have to, I will.”
“It’s not like you’ll go to prison for it.”
“No, but I’d rather not get cops on my back. Unfortunately, they’re hard as fuck to shake off.”
“That’s true,’’ Niko chimes in. “What if we throw him the bone in the wrong direction?”
I lean over the table. “Go on.”
“We have lists upon lists of… rivals, shall we say? Just send him the tip.”
“That’s even worse,” I roll my eyes. “Do you have the mental capacity to go through another war? Because I sure as hell don’t.”
“I’ll do it.”
I lift a brow. “Alright. Go on, then. Be my guest, just don’t come asking for help if somehow your diner burns down.”
“It won’t.”
“Let’s go back to the mole, guys,” Aria claps her hands. “It’s one of the most important things to do right now, because if we don’t deal with it soon, it’ll be a bigger issue down the line.”
The tone of the room shifts. Everyone’s more on edge and paying close attention. Even Freya, who up until a minute ago seemed rather uninterested in the developments, is now listening closely.
Aria opens her mouth and continues talking.
However, I can’t seem to focus. Something feels fucking off, and I hate that I can’t put my finger on it.
The air around us is thicker, the tension higher than ever, and even the way everyone’s talking, moving, and breathing is different.
I’m not entirely sure it’s in a good way, though.
The small hair on my neck stands up, and the thought hits me. It’s different than anything that I’ve felt before. It’s eerie, and the paranoia slowly spreads its poison to my brain, to the point of me being unable to shake it off.
Because my gut feeling has never been wrong. And right now, it’s telling me that the mole is sitting at this very table.