Page 44 of These Shattered Memories

R owan’s mother is dead.

But something about it doesn’t sit right.

Her brakes failed, just like Hawthorne’s did a few months ago. That can’t be a coincidence. Someone did this to her.

I pace Rowan’s kitchen, my pulse pounding in my ears. When Hayden called with the news, it was like the world stopped to hold its breath. Rowan had looked stunned at first, then confused and finally— blank .

I shake the memory off, trying to focus. My gut screams at me. I’m missing something, some important clue that sits at the back of my head, yet I can’t reach it. Whoever killed her is behind Haze. They murdered Daniel. They murdered Trist. Now they’ve murdered her.

And they’re inside The Snake.

I rub my forehead, willing my brain to connect the threads. Think, Alex .

Who would be powerful enough to do this?

Who would have enough resources to insight rebellion within The Snake?

Who would be greedy enough to sell an unstable drug for money and power and spark instability?

I rub my face with my hands, raking them through my hair until I’m sure I pull out some strands.

A sharp ring shatters my thoughts. My phone. I nearly throw it across the room before I see the caller ID—Kane. I freeze, staring at the screen like it’s about to bite me. Two weeks ago, I would have picked up immediately. Now I feel sick.

I answer it, heart lodged in my throat. I don’t say a word, waiting for him to speak first.

“Alex?” His voice cuts through the silence. “Is that you?”

“You shouldn’t be calling me,” I say, my voice flat, colder than I intend.

“I know,” he says quickly. “I know but I need to talk to you. Please. Just five minutes. You want to hear this.”

“Kane, I don’t have—”

“It’s about Hawthorne,” he cuts me off.

That stops me dead. I clench my jaw, grip the counter so tight, my knuckles ache. “You have two minutes.”

I hear some papers rustling on the other end then, “Whilst you were looking into Haze, I was too. I think I was close to figuring it out as well.” I swear I can hear my own heart racing in my chest. “I wanted to know who Hawthorne met up with a few days before she died. It looks like she was going into partnership with someone, but no one can tell me who. I was about to give up when I came across an insurance document for a car that was filed four weeks before the accident.”

I don’t say anything, letting him continue.

“The car was filed under her name, but it had a previous owner.”

I feel my throat close up. “Who?”

“Jonathan Vasilyev.”

My breath catches, the phone almost slipping out of my hands. “What?”

“He had been meeting up with her for a few months. It looks like he gave her that car as a way to sweeten their deal.”

“Kane…” I start, my scalp prickling. “This could be a coincidence. Maybe they knew each other. There could be a thousand explanations as to why he gave her that car.”

He sighs. “Alex, what’s the first thing they teach you in the OCU?”

My stomach falls because he’s right. What are the chances of Jonathan Vasilyev knowing Hawthorne?

Slim to none.

“There’s no such thing as coincidence.”

“Right,” he says. “There is a thread here. You and I both see it.”

“So, you’re saying Jonathan killed Hawthorne?” Nausea overwhelms me. I think I might empty my guts right in the middle of the kitchen.

“I don’t know, but he’s involved somehow.

He gave her the car she died in. I think he planned to partner with her and sell Haze for profit.

Maybe he changed his mind when he saw how much money he could make.

Maybe he decided to kill her and take everything for himself.

You said the person behind this was in The Snake, right?

High enough to keep it all hidden. That’s Jonathan. Think about it.”

“Why should I believe you?” The room around me is spinning. I don’t want to believe him, but Kane is a way better detective that I could ever dream to be. Despite the part of me whispering to not trust him, the other, much larger part, knows he’s not lying to me.

“Because you know I’m telling the truth, Alex. It was only a matter of time before you got to this as well. You’re a good detective and you know as well as I do that this is the right answer. Jonathan Vasilyev is involved, and I think he’s behind it all.”

A tremor goes off inside me, and my entire body shivers. Rowan’s father is one of the most powerful men in Senna. He holds enough power and loyalty within The Snake to pull this off. We had been looking in the right direction, just the wrong person.

“Alex?” Kane says, pulling me back. “Are you okay?”

“Can you send me an insurance document and anything that ties him to this?” I manage, my voice tight. “Anything that ties him to Hawthorne and Haze.”

“Yeah, of course I’ll send it to your email now,” he says. I hear the clack of keys on a keyboard.

I pause, my heart racing. “Kane, why did you tell me this?”

He’s quiet for a long moment. I can hear the sounds of the evening outside, crickets chirping, cars and wind in the distance but more than anything, Kane’s breathing.

My mind takes me back to one of my first days in his team. It was after Rowan’s assignment and I was at my new desk, hungover and broken. Kane had gripped my shoulder and handed me a cup of coffee without a word.

He always had my back—until he didn’t.

“Because you saved my life,” he says quietly. “Rowan was going to kill me, and you spared me even when you shouldn’t have.”

It’s like my chest is caving in, the sorrow of losing my best friend and mentor coming back in a wave to drown me again and again.

“Kane…”

“You’ve made your decisions, and I’ve made mine. I hope one day we can sit down and talk about it.”

I release a shaky breath, moisture stinging my eyes. “I have to go,” I whisper. “Send me what you have.”

“I will,” he says.

It takes a few deep breaths before I’m able to collect myself. I can’t focus on Kane. Right now, The Choosing is taking place and Rowan is stuck in there with Jonathan.

I need to get to him. I need to get to the Serpentine. I grab my keys and bolt out of the townhouse.

I race through the traffic-clogged streets of Senna, weaving through cars and buses, my hands gripping the wheel so tightly they ache.

My mind is moving just as quickly, sifting through anything Rowan has told me about his father.

Once, when I was still undercover, he’d let it slip that Jonathan would use a bullwhip on him and his brothers when they failed a task.

I remember the flatness in his voice when he said it, like it didn’t bother him, but there was an edge to it too, uneasy, maybe even afraid.

I glance at my phone, trying Rowan’s number for the tenth time.

Straight to voicemail. The Choosing must have already started, which means Rowan is with Jonathan.

Panic twists in my chest. Jonathan won’t stop at Zaina.

If he’s behind Haze, if he’s left the trail of bodies behind him to secure his position, then Rowan is in danger too and I don’t doubt he’ll pull some kind of stunt tonight.

The worst thought sprouts in my mind and I have to close my eyes for a second to ward it off.

You can’t let him die.

I press harder on the gas pedal, weaving through the sluggish traffic. Horns blare, headlights flash, but I don’t care. Every second feels like a lifetime.

Less than ten minutes later, the Serpentine rises in the distance, its sleek, glassy exterior glittering in the city’s dim light.

It is a spiralling chrome building. Its writhing body stretches out into the sky, constructed to give the illusion of a serpent reaching for the heavens as if God Himself wanted to be closest to The Snake.

I park my car in a random spot along the street, my heart racing as I tuck my badge into my jacket and step out into the icy November night.

The front entrance of The Serpentine is like any office building in Queen’s Peak, men dressed in sleek suits, earpieces taped to their necks and hints of tattoos the only indication that it is not a simple bank or investment firm but something more dangerous.

Three men stand outside, and I watch them stiffen as I approach, their eyes narrowing.

“Stop,” one of them says before I make it up the short staircase that leads to the doors.

I scan his body quickly, looking for a weapon, but there is no obvious bulge.

I know he’s armed though, so I obey his command, pausing halfway up the stairs as he comes to stand in front of me, a step higher so he stares down.

“This building is shut to the public after five.”

It’s already nine in the evening, but around us, Senna buzzes with weekend crowds. I shoot the man a smile, pulling out my badge and holding it up for him to see. This is the last thing I should be using the badge for, but I have long moved past the line between right and wrong.

“Detective Alexander Kimura, Organised Crime Unit,” I say, keeping my voice level. “I need to speak with Rowan Vasilyev immediately.”

His gaze flicks to the badge and back to me. He doesn’t move from blocking my way. “He’s not here,” he says, sounding bored. “Leave.”

“Okay,” I say easily, trying to look calm. I look past him at the other guards. “Well, can I speak to your Enforcer instead? I have information he’d be interested in hearing.”

“What for?” The guard asks, crossing his arms.

“There’s an active investigation going on involving him and if I don’t speak to him now, you’ll have a convoy of police cars swarming this building in less than twenty minutes.”

“Get out of here before I do some real damage, man,” he says.

“You and I both know Xander Vasilyev has been under investigation for years. I’m telling you now that the police have something and if you don’t let me speak to him, they will be here in under an hour with a warrant for his arrest.” The guard still looks unconvinced.

His friends loom in the background, watching on curiously.

“Bullshit.”

I almost groan.

“It has something to do with a dead guy in one of your warehouses. Sying I believe?”

This time, he visibly flinches, his eyes meeting another guard’s.

Bingo .

Xander is their direct boss, and this guy must have heard the rumours about Key and how he probably ended up under after Xander’s torture.

I decide to press on. “I don’t care if you believe me or not, but if the police come and swarm this building, Xander will kill both of us for not warning him and you and I both know he’ll take his time.”

The guard’s nostrils flare. His friends exchange uneasy glances. They are loyal to him, and they also know what he’s capable of.

“Look, they are both occupied,” he tries feebly.

I know, I think, that’s what I’m trying to stop.

“Fine,” I say. “Then you will explain to them both why Xander ended up in handcuffs tonight.”

“C’mon Roth,” one of the guards standing a little behind says. “He has a badge. If this he’s telling the truth…”

Roth stares at me, jaw clenched. “What did you say your name was?”

“Detective Alexander Kimura. You can look up my badge number if you’d like, but we’re running out of time.”

He nods. “If you’re lying, you won’t make it out of here.”

I nod, tucking my badge away.

“Search him first,” he mutters to his friends. “Make sure he’s not carrying.”

I wasn’t stupid enough to bring my gun. I hold out my arms, opening my legs as one of them comes to pat me down. I spot his snake tattoo on his hand.

“All clear,” the man says.

Roth gives me one last warning look before turning on his heel and walking into The Serpentine. I swallow, letting out a cold breath before following him inside, a guard’s hand tightly gripping my arm. “Let’s go,” he mutters.

Somewhere inside, Rowan is standing among his enemies, and I hope I’m not too late to stop them.