Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Luna
Three days have passed since I found out Knight was my scent match.
The dinner with him and Prescott had gone well, and he’s not quite what I expected from an MC vice-president.
Actually, I’m not sure what I imagined bikers to be like, but none of them are what I expected.
Somehow, I let Prescott and Knight convince me to have dinner with all four men tonight. It had gone surprisingly well.
Knight and Prescott have hit it off—the two of them a little too similar for my liking.
Prescott likes to say he’s the sunshine to my rain clouds, and now it feels like Knight is trying to be the same. There’s only so much positivity I can put up with in one go.
It’s crazy to think I used to be like them.
No, I’m just another cynic.
But seriously, Knight is so fucking easy to like. He’s all charm and happiness—until he remembers that his sister is missing.
He admitted it feels like a part of him is missing, and that just about broke my heart.
Mack doesn’t talk much, but it makes his words have more impact when he does.
I can feel his eyes on me anytime we’re in the same vicinity. Not in a creepy way, but like he wants to make sure I’m okay or still there or something.
I like it more than I want to admit.
Ven is the hardest to pinpoint. He definitely broods, and he’s more impulsive than Knight and Mack combined. But he’s also easy to talk to.
I like all three of them, and I kind of hate it.
My phone dings, pulling me from my thoughts. I grab it from my purse, smiling when I see it’s Lark.
LARK
Check your email.
Johan was able to find some surveillance footage.
I don’t know how he managed it, and I’m not asking any questions.
I haven’t had time to look at it yet, but I sent it over anyway.
We’re still working on getting through his firewall.
LUNA
That must be driving you crazy.
LARK
You have no idea.
Whoever he hired, they’re good. I’ll give him that. Just not as good as me and Johan.
I’ll let you know as soon as we have something.
LUNA
Shouldn’t you be sleeping? It’s after midnight there.
LARK
Time is an illusion, a construct made out of human memory.
LUNA
Don’t throw quotes at me.
Especially when they don’t apply.
LARK
Sleep is for the weak.
Plus, I’m in bed. That’s why I haven’t watched the video yet.
LUNA
Good. Sleep well. Good night!
LARK
Night Luna.
Igrab my laptop and power it up, wondering not only how Johan got his hands on the video, but where it’s from.
If they haven’t managed to get into Fabian’s systems yet, it can’t be his security. How else would anyone have surveillance of the compound?
It doesn’t really make sense.
Clicking into my email, my eyebrows shoot up when I realize Lark had totally undersold this. I thought there would be one or two videos, but there’s so much more than that.
I pull up the first video, trying to figure out what I’m looking at.
I think it’s footage from a drone.
Who the hell would be flying drones over the compound that Johan could hack?
Oh, damn.
I wonder if my half-brother is under government surveillance. That Johan has an easier time hacking into a government system than into my brother’s is worrying.
There are hours of footage here. It’ll take forever to go through all of this—a task I am not looking forward to.
Since tomorrow is Saturday, I technically have the day off. But let’s be real, I usually work anyway.
I’m not exactly feeling tired right now, so I decide to start going through the videos.
It doesn’t look like much has changed about the compound since I ran. The house and other buildings all look the same.
There do seem to be more men spread out over the compound grounds. It’s hard to say just how many since I only see part of it at a time.
The first video doesn’t reveal much, but I end up hitting pause during the second one when I see my brothers.
They’ve grown up so much since I’ve been gone.
I mean, of course they have. Juan Carlos is twenty-nine, and Matías is thirty.
They were teenagers the last time I saw them.
Juan Carlos is an almost exact duplicate of Papa, with his pitch-black hair and wide shoulders. He looks so much like him it brings tears to my eyes.
I miss my parents so damn much.
Who am I kidding? I miss my brothers nearly as much—they’re just still alive.
Matías isn’t nearly as tall or built as JC, his frame is more on the slender side, but he’s almost the perfect combination of our parents.
Like me, his hair is the same mahogany our mama had.
The red-laced brown is one of my favorite features, and I love that I share it not just with my mama but with my brother.
I can’t see his eyes in the video, but I know he shares Papa’s gray eyes.
He’s softer where JC is all sharp lines like Papa.
I wonder what they’re like now.
Are they good men like Papa?
Or has Fabian poisoned them and turned them into monsters like him?
I really hope it’s the former. It would break my heart if they’ve become anything like Fabian.
I shake my head and resume the video.
It doesn’t do me any good to think about these things. Especially when I might never know the answers.
I’m the one who left my brothers behind. It’s my fault I don’t know them.
No, that’s not right.
It’s Fabian’s fault I don’t know them, but it was my choice to leave.
When Fabian appears on the video for the first time, I almost send my laptop flying into the wall. I knew I’d have to see his face again, but it just sends feral anger rushing through me.
I’ve never hated anyone in my life more than him—not even Gideon.
At least with Gideon, it wasn’t personal. Although I guess we made it personal in the end, didn’t we?
Watching video footage is monotonous and more than a little boring, but the next thing I know, it’s after one o’clock.
I stretch, deciding I should probably head for bed. It’s not like the footage won’t be here tomorrow.
And if I wait until tomorrow, I bet I can convince Prescott to comb through it with me.
I’m just about to close my laptop when something catches my eye.
I rewind the video, watching as the drone zooms in on someone who’s just stepped out of the house.
He’s pacing back and forth with his phone pressed to his ear.
I tilt my head to the side, trying to figure out why this caught my attention.
There’s something familiar about how the man carries himself—about his gait.
I’ve seen it before. I just can’t figure out where I know it from.
Until he turns to face the camera, and I drop the laptop.
It tumbles off the couch and hits the floor, while I blink rapidly.
The room spins around me as I fight a sudden bout of nausea.
I can’t seem to catch my breath as fire runs up and down my body.
I swallow around a suddenly dry mouth, trying to understand what I just saw.
There’s no way I saw what I think I just saw.
I don’t know how long I sit there, waiting for my mind and body to stop freaking out. Eventually, I reach down to grab the laptop, wincing when I see a crack on the screen.
I really hope I didn’t break the damn thing.
I press the spacebar to wake up the screen and gasp when I see the face staring back at me.
“Christian?” With a shaking hand, I reach out to the screen. I run my finger down the image, stroking his face.
There’s no mistaking it.
But how?
It doesn’t make sense.
I saw Fabian shoot him.
There was so much blood.
How could he have survived that?
My phone is in my hand and dialing a number I still haven’t forgotten, even after thirteen years.
I lift it to my ears, holding my breath as I listen to it ring.
“Hello?” The husky voice is sleep-laced, but I’d recognize it anywhere. “Who the fuck is this? Do you know what time it is?”
“Christian?” It’s practically a whisper. I’m surprised he even hears it.
“Yes. Who is this? What do you want?”
I lick my lips, my heart pounding so hard it feels like I can hear it. “It’s Mariana, Christian. It’s Mari.”
“I don’t know a fucking Mariana. You clearly have the wrong number, bitch. Thanks for waking me up. Maybe try calling at a normal fucking hour, yeah?”
Then the call disconnects, and all I can do is stare at my phone.
Christian is alive.
He doesn’t know who I am.
How is that possible?
The room grows dark and fuzzy around me, my breaths coming in pants.
What the hell is going on?
I gasp as a sob tears itself from my lips.
I don’t understand.
A keening cry fills the room as I gasp for breath, unable to suck enough air into my lungs while I cry.
What the hell did Fabian do?
My head spins, and I feel the darkness pressing in on me.
Rather than fight it, I welcome it with open arms.