Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
After a faint head bob, Adeline’s hand shoots up to her mouth as her eyes bulge. Her I’m-about-to-be-sick look is so authentic that Grayson leaps into action. He plucks her from the floor and steers her toward the bathroom, which happens to be right near the exit doors.
As Grayson and Adeline return to the apartment to assist me with surveillance, I relay instructions to the tech teams on the ground and coordinate with other agents as they arrive. I keep the operation running smoothly from the living room of my apartment.
The day passes in a blur of surveillance feeds, phone calls, and field reports. Grayson and I work side by side the entire time. We review the footage and analyze data forwarded to us by agents in the field before conducting in-depth profiling of anyone of interest.
Minutes into our joint operation, you would have no clue about the fight we had yesterday. The tension from this morning has shifted, replaced with a sense of camaraderie and trust.
We move through the list of stings together, our rhythm seamless and our focus sharp. Each class is the same—women chatting, men fretting, and the oblivious expressions of soon-to-be parents unaware of the danger that lurks in the shadows at gatherings like this.
Everything is running like a well-oiled machine, then Grayson’s voice crackles through the comms hugging my ears, his tone tense and frustrated. “Two agents haven’t checked in for the four-thirty class.”
I check the roster, my heart sinking when I realize it is one of the locations we added to the list only this morning. There’s no block-wide surveillance for that location since it is a mainly unoccupied industrial estate. The two agents were being sent in blind.
After ensuring this mishap isn’t an administration error—a.k.a. my mistake—I tell Grayson, “I sent the coordinates for that class to Agents Perez and Donatello after their last sting. They confirmed their placement before announcing they were going to grab a quick bite to eat between assignments.” I lock eyes with a pair as equally concerned as mine. “They should have arrived by now. Last contact was over two hours ago.”
Grayson drags his hand over his hair, spiking it as Brandon jumps back into the operation—as he has many times today. “There was a crash on the I-5 forty minutes ago. Agents Perez and Donatello sustained minor injuries, but because their car is totaled, they will need a brief hospital admission. They won’t make it to their afternoon assignment.”
I sling my eyes to Grayson as an imaginary bulb illuminates above his head. “I’ll get Cartwright.” My panic recedes when he grumbles, “If she attended the same driving school as you, we will make it to the class with thirty minutes to spare.”
Minutes pass before Grayson returns, his expression grim. “She’s unwell. She can’t go. She can’t leave the fucking bathroom.”
His statements convey both frustration and guilt. Adeline ate lunch with us, and as much as Grayson jokes that the extra fiber he laces my meals with will make stool softeners unnecessary, it’s not necessarily a joke. I’ve never been more regular.
While pacing the narrow hallway, Grayson makes a call. Even though his phone isn’t using the speaker function, I hear the answer to his demand—cold and final. “There are no spare agents. You’ll have to wait until next month.”
Grayson’s jaw tightens as anger flashes through his eyes. “We can’t wait. This is the only chance we have to get eyes on someone in this unit.” He looks at me, his gaze heavy with desperation as he takes in my swollen midsection. “Give me someone. Anyone. I’ll even take your grandmother if that’s all I can get.”
“There’s no one. I’m sorry, Agent Rogers, but my team has exceeded its capabilities.”
When Markwell disconnects their call, Grayson fights not to slam his phone to the ground with as much fury as Markwell’s tone. Markwell is furious because Grayson’s sting against Thompson eliminated half his team, but I also believe he has nothing left to give.
Since Grayson believes the same, he maintains his cool—barely. He can feel what I feel. Something mammoth is about to be unearthed, and he doesn’t want to give it up for anything.
When his eyes return to me, I stand with my back straight and my hands steady. He will never ask me to place myself in a dangerous situation, not even before I was pregnant, so I have to force the narrative. “I can do this.”
He hesitates, torn between duty and fear, but since time is not in our favor, he folds remarkably fast. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I answer, nodding robotically. “I wouldn’t put my hand up if I didn’t believe we would come out of this safely.” “We” centers on more than just the baby and me. It includes Grayson as well.
After a short deliberation that adds depth to the deep groove between his brows, he mumbles, “All right.” Under the cautious eye of Brandon, who watches our exchange from the television fixed on the far wall, he grabs a roll of medical tape from the hallway table. “But on one condition.”