Page 91 of While He Breathes

“Your plan sucks. You know that, right?” Darius says from the passenger seat.

We’re in an old, beat-up pickup truck that blends in with the cars lining the street. It’s a far cry from the luxury cars I usually drive, but I like the way the gears shift in the old girl, which is why I never got rid of her.

This is the first car I ever bought myself. I scrimped and saved and starved so I could have a reliable mode of transportation, and buying her was one of the happiest days of my life up to that point.

It was the first thing I ever bought that was mine, that I never had to share, that didn’t come with strings and conditions.

“I know.” I nod, but don’t bother looking away from the building a few cars up.

We got a tip that Lucas was visiting a doctor’s office on this street, and at this point, we’re following every single lead we get, even the unsubstantiated ones.

It’s taken him longer than I expected to show his face, and it’s really starting to piss me off.

I’ve always known he’s a snake, but apparently, he also has some intelligence hiding somewhere among all the ego.

We both have ball caps pulled over our heads and sunglasses hiding most of our faces. It’s enough that no one should look at us twice, but if Lucas does happen to see us, it’s probably not going to stop him from recognizing me.

Darius, on the other hand, has only ever met Lucas once, outside the hotel the day Ember was meant to fly back to Las Vegas, which we’re hoping means he won’t recognize him quite so quickly.

In fact, the plan kind of hedges on Lucas being so distracted that day that he didn’t take in the man standing right beside her.

If the asshole does show his face, Darius is going to go into the office and make an appointment. Or at least ask for one. It doesn’t really matter if he gets one or not, we just need to put him in the clinic to see if he can get any information.

We had to leave Max back at the penthouse because it became clear very quickly, he did not want his husband walking into a dangerous situation before he was promptly reminded this might be our only chance of bringing Ember home.

That shut him up, but it was still safer for him to stay back where he couldn’t fuck things up.

Killian is parked in another car further down the street in his own disguise, and if all the messages in the group chat are anything to go by, he’s one second away from blocking Max’s number.

The entire thing would be amusing if we weren’t getting to the point where I’ll need to start considering the possibility that Ember won’t come home.

Unthinkable.

A van pulls up in the spot outside the clinic, and I sit forward, my chest tightening as Cain climbs out of the driver’s seat.

His eyes scan the street, and I look away before they move over to the pickup truck. When I turn back, he’s moved to the back door and is hustling someone out with an irritated expression.

“Oh my god,” Darius whispers.

It’s not until she steps around the van that I see her and my stomach bottoms out.

My little flame.

My queen.

My everything.

I reach for the handle, because fuck the plan. I can get her out of here right the fuck now, and I don’t care what I have to do to make that happen, but then another woman steps out of the van. Her body is tiny, far too thin for an adult woman, and she folds in on herself.

“Who the hell is that?” I ask, reaching for my phone to see if Killian has told Max what’s going on.

“I don’t know.” Darius sounds just as confused as I am.

We watch as the two women disappear into the clinic with Cain on their tails.

She’s alive.

That’s the most important thing right now.