I pressed my foot down harder on the gas pedal as I drove, the wheels on the asphalt humming in rhythm with my thoughts. It was late, and the weight of the past few hours was beginning to catch up with me. I should have felt more at ease by now, but the night was far from over.
My phone buzzed on the seat beside me, and I snatched it up, answering without looking. "Lincoln bar. What's up?"
"Nash? Is everything okay?" The voice on the other end belonged to Greg, the manager of the bar I worked at. Nash was the name I used in getting the job at the bar.. "You didn't show up for your shift, and no one heard from you. You sick?"
I rubbed my forehead, exhaling deeply. "Yeah, I'm not feeling great," I lied. "I'll be fine tomorrow. I'll make up the hours with some extra shifts, you know that."
Greg hesitated but then responded with a sigh. "Alright, if you say so. Take care of yourself. We'll see you tomorrow then."
I ended the call, tossing my phone back onto the passenger seat, and continued my drive. My stomach churned. The life I led didn't allow for rest. Every move felt calculated, like a game of chess. And right now, I had more pieces to move than ever before.
---
I pulled up at the beat-down rental shop and parked. The neon lights flickered above, casting an eerie glow on the cracked sidewalk. The old woman behind the counter barely glanced up as I returned the car I'd rented under a false name.
"Thanks," I muttered, already turning on my heel and heading toward the street. I flagged down a cab, and the stale night air hit me like a slap as the car approached.
---
The ride was silent. My mind drifted to the kiss. Michael Creed's lips on mine, the way he held me, how his touch burned into my skin like it had been written there. I had no fucking clue what was happening. No clue why my body reacted like it had when he was near. But I couldn't afford distractions. Not now. Not when I was this close to finally taking down everyone involved.
I got to Aunts Mabels house, entered through the back door, the house was suspiciously quiet, I walked to my room, but something was off, someone was in my room, I looked around and found a foot print of a large boot, too large to be aunt Mabels, my guts already knows it's Toby my aunts new boy toy.
I quickly lifted the rug under the bed and used my finger print to open the floorboard, took out my laptop, documents, passports, ID cards, cash, and flash drives, dropped all the items into my black backpack.
Went to my wardrobe and quickly changed into a fresh sweatpants and t-shirt, arranged the room back to ease the suspicion that I had moved out, and left through the back door.
Walked three blocks from aunts Mabel's House and flagged down a cab.
---
I got out of the cab and walked for another ten minutes, letting the cold air slap me awake. My mind kept circling back to Michael. Goddammit, it wasn't supposed to be like this. I had my walls, my carefully crafted distance from anyone and everyone. But he,
he was different. I didn't know how or why, but I couldn't seem to shake it.
The house was finally in sight, a five-bedroom fortress in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't much from the outside, nothing more than a regular, rundown piece of real estate. But on the inside? It was as safe as it could get. The place was fully furnished, high-tech security in place, and the basement was everything I needed it to be.
---
I approached the gate, and the guards standing by immediately recognized me. One of them opened it without a word, and I walked past, feeling the weight of the evening pressing on me.
My heart beat faster as I approached the door, sliding my fingers over the sleek metal. My facial recognition unlocked the system, and the door clicked open. I stepped inside, wenr straight to the master bedroom, dropping my backpack onto the king-sized bed . The house felt like a ghost, but it was mine and i loved it...
I couldn't stay at Aunt Mabel's any longer. It had been compromised, and Toby her boy toy wasn't a fool. It was only a matter of time before they realized I was gone. But this house? This was a fresh start. A place where I could breathe again.
---
I headed straight to the shower, wanting to cleanse myself, not just physically, but emotionally. The hot water hit me like a wave, but it couldn't erase the lingering thoughts of Michael. His hands on my waist. His body pressed against mine, his lips taking me in like I was the air he needed to breathe.
I closed my eyes, imagining his body again. How perfectly we fit together, how natural the connection had felt. The kiss… it was like wholsome, that man can kiss, i give him that. I didn't want to think about it. I couldn't, but yet my head wouldn't just forget.
His caramel skin. His strong arms. The way he held me like he didn't want to let me go, like he knew something, even if I wasn't ready to admit it.
---
I finished my shower and wrapped a towel around myself. When I walked into my walk-in closet, I pulled out sweatpants and a T-shirt. Nothing fancy. I wasn't here for that.
Back in my bedroom, I sat on my bed, opening the backpack and pulling out my laptop and burner phone. My fingers were quick as I powered everything on and walked down into the basement.
The screens flickered on, one by one, until I had a full view of every camera surrounding my property, inside and out. The perimeter was tight. There was no way anyone could get in without being seen. But still, I couldn't afford to let my guard down.
---
I quickly sent a message to my agency: Mission compromised. Daniel Joe was gone before I got to the warehouse.
Almost immediately, I received a reply: That means we have a mole. Firefox, find the mole. We will do some vetting and investigation on our side.
I dropped the phone on the desk and turned to the computer, my eyes narrowing. Toby. I had a feeling he was the one who compromised everything.
I booted up the search. First things first, Toby.
As the screen came to life, I thought back to the kiss. The way Michael had looked at me, like he was seeing me for the first time, like I was the only thing in the room. And I hated how much it had affected me. How much he had affected me.
But now wasn't the time to think about that. I needed answers. I needed answers.
---
Toby's file was buried deep, but I was better at digging than anyone could ever imagine. As the computer whirred to life, the name appeared on the screen.
Toby . A. Winters.
I paused, narrowing my eyes. I clicked through everything I had on him, old government records, surveillance footage, his last few known movements. The pieces started to come together.
My fingers danced across the keyboard as I input his last known whereabouts.
I wasn't done. Not by a long shot. And I was getting closer. But one thing was clear: Michael Creed, no matter how much I tried to push him out of my mind, was a part of this.
I'll find the mole, but I won't let him get close to me.
Not yet.