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CHAPTER FIVE

FALIN

My thighs burn and lungs are ready to explode by the time we reach our building. Jasper climbs the steps behind me, oddly quiet. Is it possible he’s actually thinking about his actions?

“You’re pretty quiet for a guy who just assaulted someone with a cat tower,” I say through labored breaths.

As I turn the doorknob to our apartment, he says, “Catcallers get the cat tower… it’s only fitting.”

I shake my head. “How have you lived on this earth twenty something years without serving jail time?”

“Twenty-five years, and I don’t know… My good looks and charm seem to help.” My eyes roll back before I can stop them.

“I cannot with you.”

We’re interrupted by Leon striding toward us with an arm full of kittens, a wild look in his eyes. “Take them. One of them clawed me.”

“Why were you holding them?” Jasper asks.

“They wouldn’t stop meowing.” Jasper grabs the babies, and Leon curses under his breath. “I’m going to get rabies now.” He stomps off toward the bathroom, but not before stopping to stare at our pet store haul. “A pink cat tower?”

“Ask him,” I say, pointing at Jasper.

“What? They’re girls, they wanted pink,” Jasper says, as if he’s said the most obvious statement ever.

Leon shakes his head and leaves us to our mess of shopping bags and hungry, demon kittens.

* * *

I shut my computer, more forcefully than I mean to. These encryptions are testing every bit of my knowledge and patience. Between Leon and I throwing everything we have into it, we’ve still only managed to figure out the first bit that led us here. I’ve stared at the list of seemingly inconsequential patterns so much in the past few weeks that they’re engrained on the back of my eyelids.

RH-MEXP4521937-12-1022-NYC,

PN-MEXP4521882-07-2230-NYC,

HH-MEXP4521756-16-1845-NYC ,

PJ-MEXP4521664-09-0215-NYC

Port names, container numbers, times. At least that’s what we all seem to agree on after studying the patterns. The problem is, the list ends abruptly, and we haven’t been able to gather any more intel from Brennan’s hard drive. My stomach churns thinking about how they’re using this information for heinous shit.

I’ve been tempted to call my dad for the first time in months, and see if he has any colleagues in the human trafficking department that could lend us a hand. He may be in rural Ohio, but weirdly, the law enforcement community has ties that run deep in more jurisdictions than I would have ever imagined.

There just so happens to be three brooding pains in my ass that would kill me if I got him involved. Which, okay, I get that they’re closer than they’ve ever been to finding Bailey, and that they need to lay low with Alexander still out there, but I can’t sit here and do nothing. It’s not in my nature.

Thinking of my dad makes me remember the email I got earlier from that DNA matching site I joined last week. Something about all this searching has made that itch to find my birth parents come back stronger than ever.

A knock at my door has me spinning my desk chair. “Come in.”

“Hey, how’s it going in here?” Blake looks around my disheveled room, holding my favorite kitten, Havoc. Her and Damon took to the kittens as soon as they saw them, much to Leon’s aggravation.

“Wonderful,” I say, slumping further into my chair.

“The guys are heading out to Brooklyn later. That terminal, I think it’s called Red Hook. Damon’s been itching to get his hands dirty. To ask around. I’m not sure if that’s the best idea, but of course, they’re not listening to me.”

“I don’t blame them. We’re all going stir crazy. Not sure what they think they’ll find. We’ve already combed through their database a hundred times. Those container numbers never existed.”

I hold my hands out and Blake plops the kitten into my arms. I love how she always knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“You’re right. I’m just nervous. Who knows where Alexander is, or who he has working for him. Those codes meant something to Brennan, which means they must have meant something to Alexander and Ivan, too.” She wraps her arms around her chest and taps her foot.

“They’ll be okay.” I straighten my back, hoping that’ll help bring any small semblance of confidence to my words. “It pains me to say this, but I know they can take care of themselves. Jasper may not know how to brew a pot of coffee, but I’ve seen him handle himself, and we have nothing to worry about.”

Did I sound convincing? I hope so. Blake doesn’t need more on her plate.

Blake narrows her eyes in a look of all knowing mischief, a small smile lining her lips. “You’ve seen him ‘handle himself,’ huh? And how good was his ‘handling’?”

I scrunch my lips and glare. “Trust me, there’s been none of that. I’m actually dying for some dick… I think my vagina’s going to dry up and wither away.” She raises a brow, not buying my distraction. “We should go out tonight. Just the two of us. Get some dinner, blow off some steam, maybe find some hot guys to flirt with.” I wiggle my brows until she laughs.

“Yes to the first few ideas. I won’t stop you from finding a hook-up. I’ll even help. We can bring back our system from college.”

“The hand signals?” I laugh. “Okay, remind me again.”

“You don’t remember?” she asks, shocked. “Two thumbs down for ‘save me right now from this mouth breather.’ Jazz hands for ‘eh, I’ll make out with him but that’s about all.’ Finger guns for, ‘clear out of our room tonight because this bitch is getting some.’” She tilts her head to the side, thinking. “I feel like there was one more, but I can’t remember.”

Little Havoc meows at the exact moment the memory comes back to me. “Wait! That time you got pissed at me because I went out back to that really fucking hot guy’s car and you had no idea where I was. You made another sign that meant, ‘I can’t wait until we’re home, I’m doing this now.’”

“The fist pump!” She shakes her head. “I was so mad at you. Jealous, but also mad.”

I wince. “Yeahhh, I wasn’t the best at communicating then.”

“And you’re a master at it now.” Her voice drips with sarcasm.

“Very funny,” I say, matching her tone. “So, do we have a date?”

Standing and stretching her arms above her head, she smiles. “Sounds perfect. I’ll tell Damon so he’s not a worried mess.”

I flip my computer back open, feeling better than I did ten minutes ago. “Yeah, you probably should, although, I’m sure he’ll know exactly where we are every second of the night.”

She huffs and heads for the door. “Oh, maybe we can make a pit stop to see the tree at Rockefeller Center. I haven’t gone since I was a kid.” Her voice trails off but I barely hear her through my pounding pulse. My eyes are fixed on a notification on my screen.

“Holy shit, Bee. Brennan just got an email.”

She hurries to my side. “What? How?”

“No fucking idea. It’s not encrypted or anything, just a normal email. Sent from someone named Fairfax. It looks like an invitation.” I stare at it like it’s a ticking time bomb. “What if it’s some kind of trap? They could hack my system. We need to tell Leon so we can open it with one of his devices.”

I bend to put Havoc on the floor while Blake lets out a sound that’s a mix between a gasp and a squeal. “I’ll go get him.”

The room is graveyard quiet as we crowd around one of Leon’s monitors. If I’m this anxious, I can’t even imagine how they must be feeling. “Does the name Fairfax ring a bell?” Damon asks Blake.

She shakes her head. “Not at all. But Brennan was involved in a lot of charities the past few years. He went to events all the time.”

Damon pulls her against his chest, and I notice the moisture gleaming in her eyes. “It’s okay, Angel.”

“Let’s open it,” Jasper says. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Leon and I exchange similar looks, dread mixed with anticipation, and I nod. “He’s right.”

“Alright, let’s see what Fairfax has to say.” Leon rubs his hands together before clicking the email open.

From: [email protected]

Subject: Annual New Year’s Eve Masquerade - The Fairfax Estate

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Brennan Whitaker,

Harrison and Evelyn Fairfax request the pleasure of your company at their Annual New Year’s Eve Masquerade Ball.

Join us as we welcome the new year in elegance at our upstate home, Fairfax Manor. As always, this exclusive gathering brings together New York’s most distinguished leaders in business, politics, and philanthropy.

Details are as follows:

Date: December 31st, 2024

Time: 8:00 PM until after midnight

Venue: Fairfax Manor

44 Riveridge Road

Bedford, New York

Attire: Black tie

Masks required for the midnight unveiling ceremony

This year’s charitable focus supports youth education initiatives across the state. Your generous contributions have made significant impacts in previous years.

RSVP required. This invitation is non-transferable.

Security protocols will be strictly enforced.

Regards,

Office of State Senator Harrison Fairfax

Chairman of the Finance Committee

I read over the email two more times before pacing the length of the room. This has to be significant. As soon as I open my mouth to speak, the room explodes with questions.

“Finance committee?” Leon asks, bewildered.

“What the fuck is an unveiling ceremony?” Jasper adds at the same time.

Blake takes a few steps toward Leon’s bed and sits. “This is something he must have attended before. We have to go.”

I spin to face her. “Wait a second, Bee. We need to think this through.”

“I agree,” Damon adds. Him and I never agree on much, but when it comes to Blake’s safety, we’re of the same mind.

“I’m going to run their names through every database I can,” Leon says, already typing. “We need to find out more before we make any kind of rash decision.” He turns to meet Blake’s gaze. “I’m just as thrilled with this bit of intel as you are, Blake, but after everything that happened recently, we need to be careful.”

“I’ll help,” I say. Finally, something to work with. My hands shake with anticipation.

“We still gonna go to Brooklyn tonight?” Jasper asks. He’s looking straight at Damon, conveying a silent message with his expression. He wants to go. Needs to go. I can’t blame him. He’s been idle too much lately.

Damon turns to Blake and she nods. “You should go. This could be nothing. We shouldn’t abandon all our plans.”

As much as my fingers itch to glide over my keyboard, I can’t take seeing Blake so sad. “We’ll still go to dinner too.”

Her lips curve upward, but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Sounds good.”

We spend a few more minutes rereading the email, brainstorming what it’s all about. I have too many theories running through my head. Most of them lean toward this party being a trap, or at the very least, something more nefarious than a normal charity gala.

I leave Leon to his work, grabbing a few empty Red Bull cans on my way out of the room he shares with Jasper. Damon and Blake follow me out into the kitchen.

“Where are you thinking of going tonight?” Damon asks. He’s leaning against the counter, feigning nonchalance, but I know he’s already anxious at the prospect of Blake and I unaccompanied in the city.

“Oh, you know, first I figured we’d hit up the nearest crack house, then go to a bar and grind up on every guy that approaches us, and maybe end the night hopping into a strange white van, see where it takes us. I’m feeling adventurous.” I flash him a wry smirk.

Jasper steps in, coming up to Damon’s side. “Why does he look pissed?”

“He’s not,” Blake says. She softens her expression and wraps her arms around Damon. “What she means is, we’ll probably stay in the neighborhood, grab dinner and a few drinks. Nothing crazy.”

“You’re such a killjoy,” I tease, pouting for extra flair.

But she doesn’t register my jab. She’s too busy swapping saliva with Damon. When they keep going, grinding into each other, the awkwardness grows thick enough to slice with my switchblade. My eyes drift to Jasper and I catch him already watching me. Time stretches into an infinite void with his intense gaze locking me in place. My skin tingles and heat pools in my core. Blake lets loose a small moan and finally the spell breaks. Jasper pulls a hand through his hair, shuffling back a step. “Think I’ll go get some air.”

“Yeah—I’m gonna—” I mumble, feeling my cheeks flame. Turning on my heel, I speed walk into my room and flop face down on my bed.

What the hell was that?

I’m literally panting and all he did was look at me. I’ve gotta find a hook-up. This is a five alarm emergency, I need an orgasm stat situation. I’m in one of the biggest cities in the world. It can’t be difficult to find someone decent to fool around with.

I flip over and grab my phone from my desk, tapping my favorite dating app. While it updates my location, I close my eyes and replay that moment in my mind. Holy sexual tension, Batman. Except, I can’t mess with Jasper Shea.

He’d be a fun time, for sure. I had a small taste on Blake’s birthday. Holy crap, I’d love to climb him like a tree. But we’re stuck here, living together. On top of that, he’s a mess right now. Neither of us need the complication of a “relationship” or whatever we would call it. I couldn’t live with myself if I caused him any more pain. That is, if he’s even capable of being serious for more than five seconds.

No.

What I need is a complete stranger. Someone hot who knows where the clit is.

My screen loads with an array of options. I’m like a hungry bitch at a buffet. Within two minutes, I find someone.

Hello, Hot Jake who works in finance and loves to mountain bike.

Me: Let’s meet up.

I wait approximately ten seconds before his reply pops up.

Jake: When and where?

Me: Now. Night Shift Bar.

I quickly type out the address of the nearby dive bar and jump up to get ready. I haven’t fucked in a dive bar bathroom since college, but where there’s a will, there’s a way.