Page 28 of Through Any Fire (Any x #1)

Luc’s disbelieving face whips toward me, and his eyes widen. “You did what? ”

I shrug. “I was in the lounge; I wasn’t in any danger.”

All but Cal’s eyes widen at the admission. They must know exactly what happens in that lounge.

“And besides, I found out where they take the women. Two Disciples—or Apostles, I suppose—couldn’t help but brag about their new lucrative business, and I overheard them talking about dropping the last of their victims at the port.”

The room goes silent, my words imploding like a silent bomb. The seconds tick by as the heat noticeably rises, my palms growing slick as sweat prickles the nape of my neck.

“The port?” Cal grinds out. “Are you sure they said the port?”

I nod once, and Cal swears.

“Think it’s Edwards?” Matthias asks.

I’d wondered if Callahan’s new business partner had any ties to the ships that might have additional, undeclared wares on board.

Cal’s jaw ticks, and his gaze slices from me to Everett. “Get the shipping manifests for the past six months, as well as the projected schedule for the next two. We can’t afford any miscalculations or jump to any conclusions. If it’s Edwards, I want to be damn sure before I accuse him.”

Everett nods and strides toward the door.

“Wait,” I call toward his back.

He pauses with his hand on the door as all eyes turn to me. Alice’s sweet face materializes in my mind and my heart skips a beat, but I shake off the emotion. Alice needs me to be focused.

“They said something else. They said…” I pause as my throat cracks. “They said they needed a few last-minute additions, but then they should be ready for Friday. ”

It was now Monday. Which means we only have four days to save my friend from being shipped to god knows where. The tension coils in the room until it snaps.

Callahan swears and nods to Everett, who leaves without another word.

Matthias and Luc look at each other, opening their laptops at the same time.

I stand and cross to Cal’s side. He barely spares me a glance until I clear my throat.

Dragging his eyes from his screen to mine, he waits for me to speak with obvious impatience.

“Any word on Mason?”

His pupils dilate, and he inhales sharply, glancing over my shoulder to Matthias. I turn, bracing for the worst, the longer they don’t speak.

After several seconds, Matthias’s mouth flops open like a fish as he tries to find the words. “No,” he grinds out, looking to Cal. “We haven’t found him yet.”

A deep hold on my chest loosens, and I release a long breath. “Well, why didn’t you just say that?”

Again, Matthias looks at Cal before speaking.

“We’ve ramped up our security presence at all four remaining warehouses, as well as increased our eyes on the street.

Though there haven’t been any attempts on another warehouse yet, there’s been no mention of seeing anyone matching Mason’s description at all.

We’ve also contracted a firm to…scan the public cameras and run facial recognition, but to no avail.

It’s like he’s vanished from Roswell.” Matthias drops his gaze and has the decency to look ashamed.

He swallows, returning to his laptop, his updates now complete.

I turn to Callahan. “He hasn’t been spotted anywhere?” My voice hitches up an octave, and fear bubbles in my chest. It’s been five weeks, and he’s nowhere to be found? That can’t mean…

“Loren,” Cal whispers, voice low and full of trepidation, “it doesn’t mean he’s dead.”

The word itself strikes me like a bullet and knocks the wind from my chest. I suck in a breath but can’t seem to find oxygen.

Black spots crinkle the edges of my vision.

Then I’m pressed into a chair, and a soothing hand rubs along my spine.

Calming words fall from Cal’s lips, words of comfort and encouragement, but I barely hear them.

Mason can’t be dead. He might be a certified idiot, and hellbent on proving himself to a man that couldn’t give two shits about him, but he’s my only connection to my family. My mom is god knows where, my dad is dead…All I have is Mason.

Callahan continues to stroke my back, brushing my hair away from my face and offering me water.

I take a sip, and then down the rest of the glass.

Then I practice my breathing, controlling it and letting my fears sink into the recess of my mind, a problem to deal with another time.

It helps, and the tremble in my fingers begins to ease.

A shrill ring jolts the last of me from my panic attack, buzzing following in my waistband. I exhale a shaky breath and check the caller ID. I swear, heat flashing through my body and prickling against my palm. Answering the call, I shoot up from the chair and start for the door.

“Kate, hi.” Given the past twelve hours, it’s not surprising that I forgot about my deadline and that I was supposed to meet with Andy Thorne, his lawyer, and my agent—Kate—this morning, but it doesn’t ease my guilt.

Cal wraps a steady arm around my waist, halting me as I try to pass by.

I have to go, I mouth .

His hold tightens, and he arches a brow, mouthing back, Why?

“Loren, where are you? You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago. Is everything alright?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and try my best not to focus on the fact that Cal’s palm is warm against my exposed skin, but shivers break out anyway.

“I’m sorry, Kate. I lost track of my morning. I’ll be there in twenty. Can you stall for me, please?”

Cal’s gaze narrows with my words, and he doesn’t take his eyes—or his hands—off me.

Kate sighs. “Yes, but get here ASAP. You know how big a deal this is.”

Shame washes over me for a brief second. I’ll just explain what happened—or a modified version, at least.

“Of course, I’m leaving now.” I hang up and stuff my phone back into my waistband, then look up to Cal. “I have to go. I have a business meeting that I completely spaced on. It’s downtown, and I’ll be back in two hours, but I have to leave now.”

Cal snorts, tossing his head back, humor dancing behind his brown eyes.

“Oh, Bunny. If you think you’re going to whatever that meeting is, you’re sorely mistaken.

You’re seconds after coming out of a panic attack and in no state to handle whatever business that’s for.

Now sit down.” He tries to push me back.

I plant my feet and press a hand against his chest. “Cal, this is important. I have to go.”

I search his eyes for any chance of mercy but see none. So I pull out the big guns and smooth my palm against his chest instead of pushing him away. His gaze openly searches my face, his jaw rigid. Resolution settles in his eyes .

“Fine. But I meant what I said last night; where you go, I go.”

A laugh bubbles out of me before I realize he’s serious. His posture doesn’t change, doesn’t suggest any sense of humor, and I sober.

“Fine, whatever. But I have to change, and we have to leave like five minutes ago.”

Cal nods and releases me, and I rush back toward his room. As I reach the end of the hallway, I hear him bark orders to Matthias and Lucas to continue their search.

Five minutes later, I’m dressed in my high-waisted, flared cream slacks with a powder-blue satin blouse tucked in, and my camel tote slung over my arm. There was obviously no time to put any makeup on, so I straightened my ponytail and swiped a mauve lipstick and my mascara to apply in the car.

Callahan is already waiting, leaning against the SUV with a foot propped behind him.

As usual, he’s typing on his phone, but when he hears me enter the garage, he looks up from his screen.

Rushing past him, I have no time to appreciate the slight part to his mouth or the wandering trail of his eyes as they follow me to the back seat.

Without waiting, I open my door and slide inside, then rifle through my purse for a compact.

Cal rounds the car and gets in the back with me, and Cohen climbs into the driver’s seat.

“Well, good morning to you, too, Your Highness,” Cohen jokes as he starts the engine. “Too busy for us mere peasants?”

I laugh and reach forward to smack him on the arm. “Shut up.”

“And where are we headed?” Cal asks as he puts his phone away, leaving all his attention squarely on me. Heat climbs up my chest, my neck, from his undivided attention, so I turn my own to my compact .

“Perial Publishing.” I swipe my lipstick on and wait for the best time to apply my mascara, cursing under my breath that I forgot my eyelash curler. Oh well, this will just have to do.

“Perial Publishing? Why are we going there?”

Cohen’s question tugs at my chest and scrapes at the wound not fully scabbed over. They really didn’t keep any tabs on me since…

“I have a meeting,” I say simply, hoping they’ll leave it at that. Technically, I signed a non-disclosure agreement when I was contracted to ghostwrite Andy Thorne’s biography, plus, I quite like the fact that they’ve clearly underestimated me.

Fourteen minutes later, we pull in front of the three-story building where the publishing house offices are on the second and third floors.

Cohen slows to a stop in front of the loading zone, and I hop out before anyone can say anything.

Callahan swiftly catches up, placing a gentle hand on my lower back like a doting husband would.

As we approach the glass double doors, Cal steps away to hold one open for me, and when I pass by, he whispers, “If there’s a door you’re walking through when I’m with you, I’ll hold it. Don’t charge forward on your own. Understand?”

I give him a sarcastic smile, rolling my eyes as I pass by. Then he returns to my side, following as I lead to the offices upstairs. I wave to a few people I’ve met from prior visits and enjoy, with smug satisfaction, as Cal becomes further confused by my being here.

After climbing the stairs and rounding a corner, we come upon a visibly flustered Kate.

Her golden skin is warm, her cheeks flushed, her jade eyes frantic.

She’s twisted her dark hair into a low bun, but a few frazzled pieces have escaped, suggesting her nerves have gotten the better of her.

She notices me immediately and rushes over.

“He’s getting ready to leave; we need to head in there now .” Kate does a double take at Callahan, and a question forms in the pinch of her sculpted brows.

Cal extends a hand to introduce himself. “Callahan Keane, Loren’s husband.”

Kate’s brows shoot to her hairline as she looks between us, stunned speechless. Finally, she composes herself and says, “Looks like we have much to discuss.”

I nod, mouthing, Later , and turn toward the boardroom. “Wait here.” I gesture toward a reception area where a leather couch and glass coffee table sit.

Cal just smiles and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I think I’ll sit in. It would be good for me to learn more about my wife’s business dealings.” A flicker of stubborn determination flashes in his eyes, and I relent, needing to get into that meeting.

Kate strides forward to open the door, but Cal beats her to it and holds it open for the both of us.

I take a deep breath and plaster on an apologetic smile as I walk in, an apology already waiting on my tongue. “Mr. Thorne, thank you so much for your patience. I apologize for my tardiness, but I bring good news that I think you’ll be excited to hear.”

Andy Thorne and his lawyer stand, both wearing light smiles. Andy rounds the conference table to shake my hand. He’s an attractive man in his early fifties with perfectly styled salt and pepper hair, and he wears a navy pinstripe suit. He waves off my apology.

“Bea, please. Call me Andy. It’s good to see you. And it’s not a problem; I was looking for an excuse to cancel my next meeting, anyway. You saved me the trouble of wasting an hour.”

I smile, and the tension that gripped me earlier melts away. Cal’s body presses against my back, so close there’s no mistaking he’s staking a claim. It’s a struggle, but I keep my irritation off my face and step to the side to introduce the two men.

“Mr. Thorne—” He raises a brow, and I start again with a smile. “Andy,” I correct. “Please allow me to introduce my husband—”

“Callahan Keane,” Andy says, his eyes widening. The room heats, tension palpable and thick.

I glance between the two men, who seem to be in a standoff, sizing each other up silently and frighteningly. Next to me, Cal’s stands rigid and ready to detonate.