Chapter 30
Returning to his office, Dash walked among the clouds, but as soon as he re-entered his office, his feet landed on solid ground.
He sighed at the state they’d left it in.
While he’d tried to keep everything together, he’d failed.
How was he supposed to maintain order when all he’d thought about for months was fucking Emerson over his desk?
He’d had an order to his chaos, but after moving things and his mate sending a few askew, he’d lost his flow.
First things first, he needed to spread the sheets out again, in the right order, before reading the final pages and getting the hell out of there.
How he was going to do that when all he saw in his head was the smile on Emerson’s face after his admission, he wasn’t sure.
He set about putting it right, which took a little longer than he’d hoped. When he came to the last page in his hands, he reviewed it to determine its home.
And something clicked.
Dash was almost positive he’d seen that email address in the file Jackson had brought him. But this was a page from Randall’s file. After sorting through the Jackson pages for what felt like forever, he finally found the one he was looking for.
The addresses matched—and were written within days of one another.
The first had been sent to Randall’s captain.
Six-three. Lean with muscles. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Twenty-six.
There was nothing else but that, which seemed strange. No hello, no question or comment, and no sign off—just a bare bones description of someone. In Randall’s script near the bottom of the page, he’d written a question.
‘Is this person reporting a sighting of Gage Howard?’
Before looking over the second email, he checked his notes. Gage Howard had been twenty-six when he’d gone missing a week before that email had been sent. All the other stats lined up, too. Blue eyes, blond hair… all of it.
He slid the other email from Jackson’s research over. Dated two days after the first email, it was another odd, brief description—but with one additional line of text.
Short frame. Fresh body work. Yellow paint. Blue windows. Few miles.
Bidding begins soon.
Dash re-read them again.
Yellow paint… Blue windows…
Blond hair. Blue eyes
A shiver raced up Dash’s spine, cold tingles spreading over his arms and legs. Without more proof, he couldn’t be sure, but his gut told him that Gage Howard was the one being described in both of those emails. But for what purpose.
Bidding begins soon.
Were the alphas being abducted, trafficked, and sold? Had the emails been a sick, twisted promotion of the next on the auction block? The thought made Dash ill.
Whoever had sent those emails would have the answers he needed—if they weren’t the one running the whole illegal operation.
Dash opened his laptop. A rush of adrenaline kicked in as he took the tiny bit of data and did what he did best. After hacking a mail server based in Blacksburg, he was able to locate an IP address overseas.
Whoever it was—he was pinging IPs all over the globe, trying to hide himself. Eventually, he reached the final IP.
Right there, somewhere in Fort Seattle.
Dash wasn’t with the Guard anymore and couldn’t get a subpoena to get an actual location from the service provider. He might be able to get Jackson to sweet talk his bosses into getting one, but that would take days, if not weeks.
He had no idea what these men were being auctioned off for.
He had a guess, but who knew if he was right?
Jaye might not have weeks to wait for a subpoena and even if he did, why leave these men to suffer another minute?
Hesitant to hack the more secure Fort Seattle company he’d already been caught slipping into once, he sat back and considered his options.
Knowing he’d likely found enough to fully involve the Black Guard, he had to wait. He reached for his phone and sent a text to Jackson stating that he had something big. He also snuck in another text letting Emerson know he was still at work—for good reason.
After he put his phone down, he eyed his laptop.
Seconds ticked by. The need to know who the asshole was screamed within.
Dash’s fingers hovered over the keys, the desire to hack the near unhackable calling his name.
He’d got in once but left enough of a trail that he’d gotten into hot water.
To get out of it, he’d had to call in favors and only succeeded by promising never to do it again.
The company had likely patched the vulnerabilities he’d exploited the last time but perhaps created new ones in the process.
Wired, Dash growled, shoving his laptop away. As he tapped his fingertips on the desk, his mind spun. An idea formed within minutes. He slid his laptop back and took a deep dive into the dark web.
After hours of digging, he finally found a name. A familiar one.
With the sun rising and brightening his office, all of the pieces came together.
“I’ve got you now, you fucking asshole.”
Emerson heard the ping and reached for his phone. He’d catnapped all night, waiting to hear from Dash. Scrubbing his face with both hands, he sat up and reached for his phone. The screen lit up with the time—four a.m.
He’d better not just be going home.
Dash
Still at work. Found something! Will explain later.
Emerson grinned. While he wasn’t pleased Dash was still working that late, if he’d been in his mate’s shoes, he’d have stayed up all night, too, if he found a crucial, missing piece of an investigation. Hopefully that was it and Dash’s case might soon be over.
Emerson:
If the trail will still be there in the morning, go get some sleep!
He chuckled before laying down his cell and sliding back into bed.
It was cold and lonely there without Dash.
Drawing the pillow to his face, he inhaled Dash’s scent.
It had shifted somewhat during his heat, the sweeter aroma mixing with the spice.
It reminded him of Yulemas and the cinnamon buns his papa made every year for them to enjoy after opening presents.
This scent was his gift—or rather the man behind it.
After another couple of hours of catnapping, Emerson dragged himself out of bed, utterly exhausted.
Dash had to feel worse. He took a quick shower, dressed in his department uniform, and swung by a bakery, craving a cinnamon bun.
Ordering two, along with two coffees, in case Dash was still at the office when he stopped by.
When he arrived, it was a full house. Davis, Jackson, and even his little brother were there, all of them looking at pages Dash had spread out over the conference room table, his mouth flying at rapid speed. Emerson knocked on the glass door. Dash’s gaze flew to his, eyes sparkling with excitement.
Dash strode out of the conference room. He unlocked the door and grinned at Emerson.
“I got him.”
“You found Jaye?”
Dash’s smile faded. “Not exactly—but I know who’s behind the disappearances. My gut tells me Jaye’s among them. I’m trying to convince Jackson to call in the Black Guard.”
Emerson handed Dash the coffee and bag. “He doesn’t believe you?”
“They just got here a few minutes ago. I gave them my theory and they’re reviewing the evidence I found now. Hopefully they see what I see.”
“They will,” Emerson said, being the supportive mate while glaring at the back of Jackson’s head. “How much longer before you go home and crash?”
“Hopefully not much longer.”
“Good,” Emerson said. “Are you taking the rest of the day off?”
“I can’t,” Dash said, wide-eyed. “After a nap and a shower, I’ll be back here.”
Emerson growled. “Then I’m bringing you dinner after my shift.”
Dash’s lips quirked up. “You’d be a good boy scout.”
Emerson growled sexily, moving closer just as the elevator dinged. Eliott sashayed out. He froze, eyeing the pair of them at the door.
Dash cleared his throat and took a step back.
Emerson clenched his jaw. He hated that they had to hide how they felt for one another. “I’ll bring dinner. Any requests?”
He stepped back, opening the front door wide for Eliott. Emerson moved a bit to give the omega space, but Eliott remained near the elevator.
“You got it last night. I can order something for us this time,” Dash murmured lowly, the excited glow and energy absent from his face.
“No worries. I’ll get dinner,” Emerson said. “I’ll see you around the same time as last night. Text me if you crave something specific.”
Dash nodded. “Will do.”
Emerson didn’t want to walk away from Dash without a goodbye kiss. Hiding their affections for the next forty years was going to suck a lot more than he’d realized. He held Dash’s gaze as he stepped back and towards the elevator, spinning at the last second.
Eliott searched his face as he passed. Emerson steeled his features and hoped he didn’t look like an idiot in love. Fortunately, the next car arrived quickly. He slipped through the doors, offering Dash one last longing look.
It was then that he noticed he wasn’t alone in the elevator. He turned to the side and murmured, “Good morning” to the janitor he shared the ride with.
“Morning,” the older beta spat, wiping his sweaty brow with a handkerchief.
Emerson sighed inwardly, hoping the guy hadn’t seen anything he didn’t need to see. He’d really need to work on his poker face. If not, they were going to end up locked away.
There was no way anyone couldn’t see how much he loved his mate.
As soon as Emerson was gone, Dash’s gaze landed on Eliott.
Eliott searched his face, pausing right in front of him with a frown.
Neither spoke. Eliott shook his head and walked past, stopping at his desk to set his tote down.
Nervous bands of energy wrapped around him. It was clear. Eliott didn’t approve.
“Want some coffee, boss?”
Dash held Eliott’s gaze, his mind spinning. “I’d love one. Thanks.”
“You started early this morning,” Eliott said, his tone higher than normal. “I’ll go ask if they want any and then go start a pot.”
Dash watched as Eliott stuck his head into the conference room and then disappeared towards the back of the office.
He looked down at the coffee and bag in his hands, wondering why he told Eliott he’d love a coffee.
He placed the breakfast Emerson had brought him on the desk beside him and found himself trailing his assistant instead of returning to Jackson, Mason, and Randall.
Eliott stood in the break room, pouring grinds into a paper filter. He looked smaller than normal, his shoulders slumped. He noticed Dash enter and quickly looked away.
“What’s wrong?” Dash asked quietly.
“Nothing,” Eliott said, voice strained.
Dash winced. No jabs? No smart mouth? He didn’t want to lose Eliott, but if the man didn’t approve of who he loved, there was no way they could move forward.
“After our discussion yesterday, I guess I didn’t expect your disgust.”
Eliott whipped to face him. “Disgust?”
“You clearly don’t approve.”
Eliott drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I knew you were different. I’m not shocked by your choice in men. He’s hot as fuck, so I get it.” He paused a few seconds, tears glistening in his eyes. “I hadn’t considered that whatever made you different might land you in prison.”
Dash sighed with a bit of relief. “Mason and I have discussed plans to protect the business in the case of that happening. You don’t have to worry about losing your job.”
“Dash—I’m not worried about my fucking job right now. Prison, babe. For life.” Eliott shook his head. “That’s some heavy shit. I don’t want that for you.”
Dash closed his eyes, fatigue hitting him hard. He didn’t want to think about losing everything—not when it finally felt like he had it all.
“I know I talk shit,” Eliott said. “But I love it here… because of you. You don’t treat me like an idiot or like I’m less than anyone else.
You keep me on my toes, handing me things other bosses would say were too much for an omega to handle.
You’ve never doubted me, even when maybe you should’ve at times. ”
“But you’ve always risen to the occasion,” Dash replied.
“Damned right I did,” Eliott said, a smile coming to his lips. His face twisted, though, looking near tears seconds later. “And you need to stick around and keep challenging me.”
“I don’t plan on going anywhere—if I can help it.”
Eliott walked closer and straightened Dash’s rumpled shirt. “Did you sleep here last night?”
“Who’s slept?” Dash whispered.
Eliott continued using his palms to smooth Dash’s shirt. “You’d best work hard to ensure you’re still here when I meet my super-hot, ultra-rich alpha and put in my two-week’s notice.”
Dash chuckled.
Eliott joined him with a snicker of his own, but his lower lip soon quivered with sadness. “As if anyone could afford me and my shopping addiction. You’re likely stuck with me forever, you know?”
“If I’m lucky,” Dash murmured.
Eliott grinned and cocked his head to the side. “Well, I’ll be, Dashiell Keller. That just might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
Eliott gave him the finger before taking a deep breath. “Whatever I need to do to help with this plan you and Mason have, you just say the word. It’ll be done. And if there’s anything I can do to protect you, just say the word for that, too.”
“You’ll do anything for that raise, won’t you?”
Eliott playfully smacked his chest. “Yes. Yes, I will.” He hedged for a second. “Well, almost anything. Sexual favors are off the table.”
“Not a problem. I prefer hot alphas, remember?”
“Me, too.” Eliott grinned, lifting a brow. “Hot alphas who bring you dinner.” Eliott gasped. “Was he here all night with you?”
“No. He left after dinner.”
“Oh, that’s a lie,” Eliott said.
Dash fought a smile. “He left not long after dinner.”
Eliott nodded. “Better.” He stepped back from Dash. “I’ll bring your disgusting black coffee in a few minutes.”
“You don’t need to. My alpha brought me coffee and something to eat.”
“I’m going to have to step up my game so Mr. Firefighter doesn’t make me look bad.”
“Mr. Arson Investigator—remember?”
“Right,” Eliott said with a roll of his eye. “Before you go, who’s the hot guy with Jackson and Mason in the conference room?”
“Randall Walker. Emerson’s younger brother.”
“Am I supposed to know who Emerson is?”
Dash backed out of the break room. “Mr. Arson Investigator.”
“Ahh,” Eliott said. “I thought he looked familiar. I guess it was more that he looked familial.”
Dash snagged his coffee and bag before returning to the conference room.
“I’ve put in a call,” Jackson said without preamble. “There’s a team on the way. They’ll meet us all here tomorrow around ten.”
Dash sighed with relief. “Perfect. I guess that means I can finally go catch some shut-eye.”
“Need me to drive you home?” Jackson asked, cocking a brow.
That was the last thing Dash heard before the explosion.