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But this isn’t the end.
Rauel’s face flashes in my mind, a reminder of the countless lives ruined by the Black Market Railroad. They took him, just like they took Allison. And if Ramirez wants to side with them, that makes him fair game, too.
I clench my fists, the sting of my nails digging into my palms, grounding me.
They’ll pay for what they’ve done. Every last one of them.
The shrill ringof my cell phone jolts me out of the dark spiral of my memories, dragging me back to the present. I blink, realizing I’m still seated at my kitchen table, the cold mug of coffee cradled in my hands. Through the blinds, the first rays of the morning sun stream into the room, painting bright streaks across the walls.
Without glancing at the caller ID, I press the phone to my ear. “Yeah,” I answer, my voice hoarse and tired. Sleep had eluded me again last night, but that’s nothing new. I don’t even remember the last time it bothered me.
“Aerianna,” my handler’s clipped tone greets me, devoid of preamble, “I need you at Jameson Street and West. We found a body.”
My stomach tightens, the exhaustion evaporating in an instant. “I’ll be there,” I reply, already rising from my chair.
The coffee remains untouched on the table, a bitter reminder of the sleepless night I’ve left behind. Grabbing my jacket, I head for the door, steeling myself for whatever waits at the scene.
Chapter 9
AERIANNA
We found a body.
My handler's words play on repeat in my head as I throw on a fresh set of clothes and race out to my pickup. The urgency of his tone still echoes a low hum of unease under my skin.
We found a body.
I press the gas hard, speeding through the city and ignoring the angry blare of horns as I run red lights. The streets blur past until I reach the intersection of Jameson Street and West.
The sun is already up, casting the City of Angels in a golden glow. Its light bounces off the glass and concrete as if mocking the darkness of what I’m about to face. The police cruisers come into view first, their lights painting the pavement in an ominous red-and-blue glow. I slam on my brakes, the tires screeching as I pull to a stop just before the barricades.
When I took this undercover job, I told my handler everything—about my search for Allison, about Detroit, and about the personal stake I have in this case. He trusted me because I told him the truth. Now, he stands by the yellow tape, hands on his hips, the weight of his job etched into every line on his face.
Zach is a man who commands attention. In his early fifties, he could have any woman in his orbit with salt-and-pepper hair, a perpetual California tan, and a body kept in shape by early-morning runs. His black t-shirt stretches over his toned muscles, and the backward baseball cap gives him a casual air that shouldn’t work but does.
But not for me.
While half the women at the station openly drool over him, I never have. Zach isn’t a man I lust after; he’s the one person I trust. A father figure in a world where trust is rare, and I’ll cling to that bond before I let myself see him in any other way.
“Aerianna,” he calls out as I approach. His voice is steady and calm, but there’s an edge of concern.
“Sheriff,” I reply, giving him a curt nod.
“How’re you holding up?”
“I’m fine.” It’s automatic, the answer expected of me, though the truth is less certain.
Zach studies me for a moment, his eyes narrowing just slightly. “If this gets to be too much, say the word, and I’ll pull the plug. Your mental health matters, Aeri. I mean it.”
“I know, but until I take these assholes down, I’m not stopping.” He doesn’t know the full extent of my plans. To him, this mission is about dismantling the Black Market Railroad, the network responsible for my missing best friend. But I’ve learned enough to know it doesn’t stop there.
The Royal Bastards are involved, I know they are. The signs are all there, the connections buried in files and whispers, leading me straight to their doorstep. I just don’t know how deep it goes or why.
“Just do me a favor and be careful,” Zach says, his voice dropping a notch. “Sometimes, the people you think are bad aren’t.”
I stiffen, his words hitting closer to home than he realizes. “I’ll be careful,” I say, my voice steady even as my mind churns. But the truth is, I can’t promise him that. Not when the lines between good and bad are already blurring, and I’m not sure which side I’ll be on when it’s all over. “Show me the body,” I say, steering the conversation back on track. The last thing I want or need is for Zach to start convincing me to back out now.
“Right this way.” Zach lifts the yellow tape, holding it just high enough for me to duck under.