Chapter 25
Engines cut through the silence outside. Multiple vehicles approaching fast. And no sirens. Not legit security, then. This was more like an army.
Cara's body flooded with adrenaline and training took over before she could stop the response. She assessed exits automatically, counted distinct engine sounds, calculated response time based on approach speed.
Doors slammed in rapid succession. Voices carried through the fog. Men. Several of them. Moving with purpose.
"We need to move right now." Gabe grabbed the burner phone and David's notes, stuffing them into his jacket pockets.
Flashlight beams swept across the windows. The side door they'd entered through was exposed now, with vehicles positioned between them and that exit route.
Gabe tapped her on the shoulder. "Loading dock. There's rear access through the bay doors. Go."
They ran through the darkness with footsteps that were too loud in the enclosed space.
Behind them, the door crashed open violently. Heavy boots hit concrete. Flashlights swept through the interior in systematic search patterns.
“Lock was jimmied. Check everything. Someone's been here."
Gabe urged her toward a shipping container.
They ducked behind it, pressing themselves against cold metal.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. She box breathed, trying to stay above the rising tide of adrenaline surging through her.
When cons went wrong, she needed every tiny trick in her arsenal to keep her head together.
As voices echoed through the huge space, they slipped between containers. Shadow to shadow. Her body knew how to do this, how to stay silent while moving fast, how to navigate hostile territory in darkness.
She vaulted a low barrier, landing softly on the balls of her feet with knees bent to absorb impact.
Behind them, flashlight beams swept closer. "Split up,” a deep voice ordered. “You two take the east side. We'll clear west to the loading dock."
Cara grabbed Gabe's arm and pulled him deeper into the maze of containers. They moved fast through narrow gaps between stacked crates. Metal scraped against her jacket. Her breath came controlled despite the sprint.
A flashlight beam swept past their position, missing them by inches.
"Over there! Movement!"
Footsteps pounded closer. Heavy boots on concrete. At least two men converging on their location.
Cara spotted a gap between containers barely wide enough to squeeze through. She pushed Gabe toward it and followed, turning sideways to fit through the eighteen-inch space. The metal pressed against her chest and back as she moved through.
They emerged on the far side just as flashlights illuminated where they'd been standing seconds before.
"Lost them. Check behind the containers."
Cara started to move but Gabe held up his hand, listening. She heard it, too. Two men to their left. One circling around from the right. Another pair somewhere near the main entrance cutting off that exit route.
Five hostiles. Multiple weapons likely. Bad odds for a confrontation.
They needed another way out.
"Loading dock," she whispered, pointing toward the rear of the building where Wade had indicated the bay doors in his sketch.
Behind them, flashlight beams swept in systematic search patterns. Coordinated. Not rent-a-cops, but actual security personnel who knew what they were doing.
She and Gabe reached a row of industrial shelving units stretching twenty feet high. “You good with this?” Gabe whispered.
“Watch me.” She leapt past the first couple rungs, scrambling upwards as quickly as possible.
The ladder shook beneath her as Gabe followed on her heels. They reached the top and moved along the narrow shelf, stepping carefully between boxes. Below them, flashlights passed underneath their position.
"Nothing in this section. Move to the next row."
Gabe pointed left, leading her across the top of three connected shelving units until they reached a catwalk, metal grating suspended fifteen feet above the warehouse floor.
She dropped onto it with barely a sound. Gabe landed heavier beside her, the metal rattling slightly. They froze.
"What was that?" Flashlights swept upward, moving ever closer.
“Run,” Gabe ordered.
They flew along the catwalk, footsteps echoing now. The metal walkway led directly toward the loading dock area and the bay doors beyond.
Shouts erupted below. Running footsteps converged on their position. "Up there."
The catwalk ended at a ladder bolted to the wall. Cara grabbed the rails and slid down, controlling her descent with her hands while her feet barely touched the rungs, a technique she'd learned in her previous life, running from angry marks and dangerous associates.
She hit the ground and stepped out of Gabe’s way. He came down faster than was probably safe, dropping the last six feet and landing hard.
The loading dock area opened before them. Three massive bay doors, all closed. A regular door marked "Emergency Exit" sat in the corner, red light glowing above it.
Cara ran for it and hit the crash bar at full speed.
An alarm shrieked through the warehouse, piercing and impossibly loud.
They burst outside into the fog.
"They went through the emergency exit! Get them!"
Cara sprinted across the loading dock's concrete pad toward the perimeter fence twenty yards away. Gabe matched her pace, both of them running flat out.
They reached the fence and Cara assessed it quickly. Eight feet of chain link topped with nothing. No barbed wire. No razor wire.
Easy.
"Can you climb it?" Gabe asked.
She was already moving before he finished the question. Her hands found purchase on the metal links. She flew upwards, years of close escapes exactly like this fueling her muscle memory.
She dropped on the other side with a controlled fall, tucking and rolling to absorb the impact before coming up ready to run.
Gabe followed with less grace, his landing harder and less controlled.
Behind them, shouts erupted as flashlights found the fence. “Northeast corner. Go!”
Gabe grabbed her arm and pulled her into the concealing fog.
They sprinted through the warehouse district with visibility reduced to maybe ten feet. The fog was perfect cover if you knew how to use it properly.
Gabe led her through storage yards and cut between buildings. Her lungs burned and her legs screamed protest, but she didn't allow herself to slow down.
Finally Tom’s truck appeared through the mist exactly where they'd left it.
They dove inside and Gabe started the engine, pulling out fast but controlled. He kept the headlights off until they were two blocks away.
They drove in heavy silence broken only by engine noise and the rhythmic sweep of windshield wipers clearing condensation. When she realized their pursuers hadn’t given chase, she whispered a silent prayer of thanks.
Now that the adrenaline was fading, her hands shook. She pressed them flat against her thighs and tried to steady her breathing back to something that looked normal.
Gabe's knuckles were white on the steering wheel and his jaw worked like he was grinding teeth to powder. “No pursuit,” he mused. “I wonder why not?”
“They know who we are,” she answered immediately. Of course, they did. Which meant….
Gabe’s eyes widened. “Call Tom,” he ordered.
She had to hit the call button twice to make it happen. “We had visitors, but they’re not giving chase,” she said the minute Tom picked up. “Are Wade and Reagan––“
“All good.” He cut her off. “They’ll be back a few minutes after you.”
Gabe pounded a palm on the steering wheel. “Thank you, Lord.”
Cara told Tom they were about twenty minutes out and hung up.
While Gabe navigated the treacherous coastal highway, Cara replayed every moment of their break in in her head with sick certainty. Every skill she'd let show. She could feel him processing the evidence, building a case, assembling even more proof that Cara Sweet was not who she claimed to be.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and painful and inevitable.
She knew the conversation was coming. Her chest tightened with fear that had nothing to do with physical danger. Outside, the fog blurred the trees into ghosts.
Lord, I've shown him too much. He knows I'm lying now. He won't let this go because that's not who he is. Help me figure out what to say, what to do, how to protect everyone I care about. Including him. Especially him.
The burner phone sat in the cup holder between them like physical evidence of everything at stake. David's unsent message. Proof he'd been alive three weeks ago. Proof he'd been planning to meet someone who might know where he was now.
They had evidence and leads and a trail to follow forward.
But the cost to her was rising with every mile they drove.
The weight of exposure settled over her shoulders like a familiar coat. The certainty that tomorrow, maybe even tonight, Gabe would demand answers she couldn't give without destroying everything.
Haven Cove appeared through the fog with lights warm against the darkness. The rental cabin sat on the bluff overlooking the ocean, dark and isolated.
The place they'd been sharing since the bakery break-in, since Gabe had insisted she wasn't safe alone, since she'd agreed because arguing would have raised more questions than it answered.
Gabe pulled into the gravel driveway and cut the engine.
Silence crashed over them with crushing weight.
Cara reached for the door handle, needing to escape to the spare bedroom before he asked the question. Before she had to choose between more lies and the truth that would destroy everything she'd built.
"Cara."
His voice stopped her with her hand frozen on the handle and her heart hammering against her ribs.
She waited, unable to move forward or back.
"I know I've asked you before." His voice was quiet and steady and absolutely certain. "This time, I want a real answer."
She forced herself to look at him and found his eyes already on her face. Reading. Analyzing. Seeing far too much.
He held her gaze, hiding his own thoughts. "Who are you, really?"