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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

FALIN

Two days. I’ve been staring at this screen for two freaking days—my eyes fuzzy, butt imprinted into my rickety chair. At this point, the data blurs together, one massive line of numbers and letters. It’s the photos that I’ve been avoiding. I can’t bear to look at their faces. Not until I have something useful to help save them.

Empty Red Bull cans and half-eaten chip bags litter my desk, and I don’t even care. Leon, who came to camp in here with me a few hours ago probably feels differently, considering the raised brow glances he keeps giving toward my trash. Neat freak.

If he cares so much, he can clean it up. We’re in crisis mode here. I’m so close to cracking this, I can feel it in my bones. Between the flash drive, Brennan’s files, and the info Leon’s been able to drum up, there’s so much to cross reference, but every day we’re closer and closer to finding a concrete location for those victims on the flash drive. If they’re still able to be found. I push that thought far out of my mind. There’s no room for negativity, not when my brain is already close to shorting out.

“Look at this,” I say, pointing to a list on my screen. “These victim numbers seem random, but there’s something weird about how they’re documented.”

Leon leans over, squinting at my screen. “I’ve seen inventory systems before. It seems pretty standard.”

I huff, frustrated that he can’t see what I do. “But when we line up these ID numbers with Brennan’s container manifests, there’s a pattern in how they move people through the ports.”

He takes a few minutes to digest my words, his eyes darting between both our screens. “The container numbers aren’t random. They’re a victim count in each shipment.”

“That’s what I think too.”

He clicks through a few screens, biting his lip ring. “They’re tracking them like fucking cattle.” He sounds as disgusted as I feel.

I point to my screen. “And look here. Fairfax didn’t give us much, but this…” I scan the rows of money transfers, hundreds of thousands of dollars. “The transfers line up with the shipment dates.”

“You’re right,” he says, sitting back in his chair. “And there.” He points to the coded word at the end of each row. Some kind of shorthand system they used. Most of them repeating.

“Wait,” I say, grabbing his hand. “There!”

One word stands out from the rest.

QNS4721ASTIND

“This entry’s different.” I highlight the text. “See how the other codes are all six characters? This one’s longer, and it only showed up in the most recent transfers.”

My hands shake as Leon moves his chair closer. “It could lead us to an address. Let me run it against a few of the property records I was able to find under Orlov’s shell companies.”

I crack open another can of Red Bull, ignoring my already racing pulse. Jasper comes to the door, poking his head in, but I don’t bother turning to look at him. I can’t lose this train of thought.

“You need anything?” he asks. I know he’s feeling antsy, which often leads him to trouble. I glance his way for a moment.

“We’d love a pizza,” I say. “Right, Lee?” Leon nods, face still glued to his screen.

“I can do that. Anything else?” The happiness in his voice at being given a task is endearing.

“I think the girls are low on food too,” I add. If I can get him out running a few errands, hopefully by the time he gets back, we’ll have good news.

His arms wrap around me from behind, and I melt against him. He brushes a quick kiss along my jawline, before reaching my lips. “I’ll be back in a few. Text me if you think of anything else.”

Before he leaves, I hold my arms out for another hug. “Grab my credit card from my wallet.” I can see him wanting to argue, so I narrow my eyes until he relents. Good boy.

Now that Jasper’s gone, I go back to the task at hand. With the amount of property records, it’s a shock we haven’t found any of them occupied. They’re all broken down homes, or warehouses, most scattered throughout the country.

My fingers stop mid-scroll. “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Leon asks.

“I found a possible match.” I pull up a map of the property. “It’s a warehouse in Queens, owned by one of their dummy corporations. QNS, must stand for Queens, the numbers are streets, and AST IND…” I zoom in on the photo. “Astoria Industrial.”

“Fucking hell,” Leon says, dragging a hand over his face.

“But look.” I scroll through the records. “This property doesn’t show up anywhere else in their system. Not on Brennan’s manifests, not on the inventory records. They’re keeping it separate from their usual operation for some reason.”

“Go back to the original inventory listing. Is there a name listed with that particular code?”

I jump pages, my mind scrambling to keep up. “Interesting. There’s a photo, but nothing else.”

“They’re definitely hiding something there.” He stands, pacing the length of my bed.

I open another window, finding Bailey’s photo in the database. #521. My heart clenches as I study her face. Somewhere in all this data is the key to finding her. We just have to keep digging.

“We should tell the others. Call Ray. I have a feeling this place is going to be it. Fuck, I want to hop on my bike and go there right now.”

“No,” I say. “We need to map this out.” I start backing up all my data to a secure drive, my mind swimming with different possibilities of what we’ll find there. “Why don’t I tell Blake and Damon, and you call Ray?”

“Yeah, okay.” He’s out the door before I look away from my screen.

I pull up the street views and schematics of the warehouse, and try to piece together the best approach. Something about the location makes me pause. It almost seems too convenient. All the puzzle pieces connect, but still, my gut tells me there’s something we’re missing.

I only hope I can figure it out soon.

“Don’t worry Bailey, we’ll find you.”

* * *

There was no stopping the guys last night from doing a quick drive-by in Damon’s car. They promised they wouldn’t try anything, and surprisingly they kept their word. The place was exactly how it looked from the images I pulled up online. Quiet. Vacant. After watching for an hour or so and seeing no one coming in or out, they called it a night.

This morning though, they’re like wound up spinning tops ready to be set free. Ray and his crew are meeting us at the address at eight, and we’ll find out for sure what the hell is going on in that warehouse.

With the energy in the apartment feeling suffocating, and my head fuzzy from looking at screens for days, I figured a nice walk and some caffeine would do me some good.

I grab my jacket from where it’s slung behind a chair, feeling Jasper’s eyes on me from across the room. He’s messing around with his guitar, shirtless on the couch. It’s hard enough to leave with him looking so damn good, but he’s gotta give me the eyes too. “I’m just going to grab some coffee. Don’t give me that look.”

“What look?” he asks, giving me his golden retriever eyes. I sigh, unable to hide my smile.

“Want anything?” He raises his brows and I know exactly what he’s about to say. “Not sexual,” I tease.

“Let me grab a shirt. I’ll come with you.” He meets me by the door, kissing me like he can’t go another second without it.

I’m still getting used to all this open affection between us. Not that I’ve been cold before, but this is different. The constant checking in, the touching, the kissing. I like it more than I want to admit.

We walk hand in hand to the coffee shop a block away. It’s relatively quiet this early in the day. Somehow, even after the plans we have tonight, this small moment feels normal.

“You look all deep in thought. Let me guess, you’re thinking about me naked?” Jasper asks, slinging his arm around my shoulder and pulling me tight against his body.

“How’d you know?” I say, my voice oozing sarcasm. “I can’t go five seconds without picturing your bubble butt.”

He glances over his head. “I do have a nice ass, don’t I? I’d picture my ass too.”

“Oh my God, I can’t with you.” I laugh and give his ass a light smack. “If you must know, I’m thinking how weird it is to do something so… ordinary. Getting coffee with my boyfriend while we plan to raid a warehouse full of traffickers later tonight.”

He chuckles. “Boyfriend, huh?”

“Oh, shut up.” I glare up at him. “What would you prefer? Plaything? Fuck buddy?”

He lets out a low rumble that brings heat to my cheeks. “I can work with those.” His thumb traces circles on my upper arm. “But I gotta say, being your boyfriend has some pretty awesome perks.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for starters—” He’s cut off by the sound of screeching tires. We both tense, hands instinctively moving toward our weapons, but it’s just some asshole running a red light.

“Fuck. We’re on edge, aren’t we?” I try to sound like I’m joking, even though my heart’s still racing.

“Can’t help it.” He scans the street as we walk. “Keep thinking about tonight. About Bailey.”

I squeeze his hand. “We’re going to find her.”

“I know.” He brings our joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “Because I’ve got you.”

The coffee shop is just ahead, promising caffeine and a few more minutes of pretending we’re a normal couple on a normal morning. But we both know better. After tonight, nothing will be the same. I can feel it in my bones.

While Jasper finds us a table, I order our usuals. Latte for me, and caramel frappe with extra whipped cream for him. My boyfriend has the taste of a teenager, but somehow it makes me like him more.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, tapping the screen. It’s another DNA match notification. Since helping to find Bailey, I’ve joined two new sites. The results rarely pan out, but I can’t help checking anyway.

The barista calls our order and I step over to the counter, but my eyes are glued to my screen. Twenty-five percent match. My hands shake as I put my phone away to grab the coffees.

What does this mean? Did I actually find someone?

“You okay?” Jasper asks as I set the coffees on the table.

“Yeah, just need to use the bathroom real quick.” I force a smile, needing a moment alone to process this. If I say something to Jasper before I’ve even had the chance to look at it, he’ll be so happy for me, jumping up and wrapping me in his arms. I couldn’t bear that if it turns out to be a hoax somehow.

The hallway to the bathroom is narrow and dimly lit. I grab my phone again, swiping open the app. A woman, an aunt, maybe? I round the corner, clicking on her photo to open up her profile, but stop short as I almost collide with a man stepping out of the shadows. “Oh, shit. Sorry,” I mumble, pushing past him.

“No harm done.” The man’s voice is smooth, but something about it gives me the creeps. I glance up to find his dark eyes studying me intensely. “I’ve been waiting for you, Falin.”

I reach for my waistband, where I always keep my switchblade, especially lately, but his hand shoots out, wrapping around my wrist and squeezing. “What the fuck?” I seethe. “Let go!” I turn to call for Jasper, but his other hand covers my mouth, his expensive cologne wafting up my nose, making me gag.

“Don’t make a sound or I’ll kill you and he’ll never find your body.” I feel my legs shake, wanting to give out, but I force strength into them. “Do you understand, Falin?”

Without any other choice, I nod, and he slowly removes his hand from my mouth. I’ve never seen him, but my body knows who he is. Every nerve ending screams danger. Alexander Orlov. He has to be.

“Quite the happy little family you’ve built here in New York.” He pulls out his phone, showing me photos that make my stomach drop. Blake and Damon walking to the deli. Leon getting on his bike. Jasper and me opening the door to the apartment building. “It would be a shame if anything happened to them.”

“What do you want?” I keep my voice low and steady. The exact opposite to how I feel.

“A little meeting. Me, you, and your friend, Blake. We have business to discuss.” His grip on my wrist tightens, and I bite my lip to hold back a wince. “Don’t think about telling your boyfriends. I’ll know if you do.”

“If you think I’d be stupid enough to meet you—” He moves so his face is nearly an inch from mine. His spittle hits my lips as he speaks.

“You will, because if you don’t, I’ll have my men grab Jasper Shea and he won’t be as comfortable as his pretty little sister.”

My eyes widen, but I school my lips into a neutral expression. I don’t want to give him the pleasure of knowing he’s gotten to me. Fuck. We’ve been right all along. I knew it, but hearing it from his mouth. Knowing he’s put the pieces together, that’s something different entirely.

I spit in his disgusting face. “Fuck you.”

He lets my wrist free to wipe his face with his pocket square as a small laugh leaves his lips. His eyes are still cold as ice.

“Eight o’clock. The address will come by text. You and Hyland only, tell no one, or start planning funerals.” He folds the cloth, shoving it into his pocket. “And Sinclair? I’ll be watching. One wrong move and they all disappear.”

He’s gone before I can respond, leaving me barely able to stand. I rush into the bathroom and lock the door, sliding down onto the floor. Tears threaten to come, but it’s like they’re stuck. I force air into my nose and out through my mouth, cursing under my breath.

How did he find us? What the fuck am I going to do?

My phone buzzes again and I already know it’s him before I even look. There’s no way I’m bringing Blake to him. I’d rather die than put my best friend in harm’s way. A notification pops up again from the DNA site, and I can’t bring myself to care anymore. Not now. There’s no use in finding my missing family if I’ll be dead in less than twenty-four hours.

I splash some water on my face and will myself to breathe normally. Jasper can’t know what just happened. You got this. Get home and figure something out. But what?

When I return to our table, Jasper’s scrolling his phone, smiling at something on the screen. He sees me, and his face falls.

“You okay? You look pale.” He reaches for my hand.

I force a smile, hating myself for what I’m about to do. For lying to him when I’ve asked for nothing but honesty. “Just tired. Tonight’s got me on edge.”

“Me too, but these kitten videos are helping.” He kisses my palm and goes back to watching his phone while I sit there thinking about how fucked I am.

How am I going to keep them all alive?