Page 64 of Inked Desires

“We climb the hill. From up there, we’ll have a view of the boxing club,” Kiran says as he gets out of the vehicle.

Connor opens the passenger door and steps out first. Travis and I follow, sliding out from the backseat. Kiran joins us, and Aaron and Kev get out of the second car. Kiran gives a sharp nod toward the hill. Together, we climb in silence. Just before reaching the top, we drop to the ground and crawl the last few feet.

What I see below sends a chill down my spine.

“What the fuck is the FBI doing here?” I growl at Kiran.

He’s just as stunned as I am. Boxes are being hauled out of the building, and no one’s stopping them. The entire site is crawling with agents. No sign of Jace’s men anywhere.

“You were supposed to check the situation!” I hiss, furious.

“When I came by, there wasn’t a single goddamn cop around,” Kiran snaps back, tension in his voice.

“Fuck!”

I roll onto my back and stare up at the sky, searching desperately for a solution.

“What now?” I ask, not expecting an answer.

Two options. Either the FBI got to Jace, which only solves the problem temporarily—he’ll get out eventually. Or someone warned him, and he slipped away. If that’s the case, we have to find him. And when he does resurface, he’ll blame Andrew and come after him even harder.

“You need to find out where that bastard’s hiding,” I tell Kiran.

He always finds a way to get intel. How? I don’t want to know. What matters is that he delivers.

“They’ve spotted us! Get down!” Connor shouts, snapping me out of my thoughts.

We immediately drop into the dry grass. The sharp stalks scratch at my scalp. I hold my breath, waiting for footsteps. But nothing comes. The silence becomes unbearable.

A vibration in my pocket shatters the stillness. Shit. I pull out my phone.

“Turn that off,” Travis orders.

I glance at the screen. Blocked number. Ihaveto answer. It might be Jace. My only shot at tracking him.

“Hello?”

Groans rise around me. No one answers calls during a stakeout—I know. But this isn’t an official op. Worst case, the feds tell us to leave.

“This is Special Agent Robert Davis with the FBI. What are you doing on this hill?”

A joyless laugh escapes me.

“That was fast,” I remark.

“You underestimate us, Clark,” he snaps.“We know your little crew. And we know your connection to Jace Benton.”

I swallow hard. Shit. They’ve been watching us. How long?

“What are you implying?”

“I’m saying you’d better stay in your lane… if you want Andrew to stay alive.”

“Where is he?”

A sigh on the other end. Then the line goes dead.

“Get in your damn cars and go back where you came from,” says a voice suddenly behind us.