Page 44 of Isaac

I gun the throttle, and the streets become a blur, neon lights streaking past like fallen stars. The wind tears at my clothes, at the knots of tension bound tight across my shoulders. It's not absolute freedom—there's no such thing—but it's the nearest thing to oblivion I can grasp with my bloodstained hands.

Buildings turn to shadows, people to ghosts. I'm a specter among them, fleeting, untouchable, riding toward nowhere because nowhere is better than being trapped in the labyrinth of my own mind.

Fuck it all.

In these moments, there's nothing but the road and me and the night. And maybe, just maybe, that's enough to keep the demons at bay, if only until dawn.

CHAPTER 15

DALLAS

"...she's been there for a few weeks now," I say, finishing my update to Nicole as she flips through the stack of passports I stole along with the passport Isaac asked me get for him.

Nicole sits quietly in the driver's seat, her eyes shift their focus to me, eager for any information. We are in an empty parking garage somewhere outside Vegas. My car is two rows down and I feel like I’m about to crawl out of my own skin. There’s this flicker of fear in me that’s been growing bigger and bigger ever since Isaac Thoreau and I began developing rapport. And at times it all feels like one huge fucking lie—like there’s more to him than what I know.

It’s distressing.

"Interesting," Nicole murmurs, taking it all in. "But you don't have much more than that? No solid leads yet?"

I shake my head, aware that time is slipping away. "No, not yet. But something's going down. I can tell. Everything points to human trafficking, but since I don't have proof. Don’t want to jump the gun until I know for sure."

Nicole frowns, clearly concerned. "And Thoreau? You've managed to get close to him?"

"Close enough." I nod, remembering the way Isaac looked at me, those intense brown eyes. "He trusts me from what I can tell. They want me to go with them as part of the security team to meet up with a client in two days. Not sure who the client is or what the deal is about. I wasn’t given more info."

"Good work, Dallas," Nicole says with a weak smile that disappears almost instantly as she slides the passports back into the plastic bag. "If Thoreau is really involved in human trafficking, he can’t continue walking the streets."

The weight of my responsibility presses down on my chest, making it hard to breathe. So many lives depend on me. I simply can't afford to fail. "Thanks." I clear my throat, still unsure if I should confide with Nicole about the incident with my apartment. I’ve been debating since the beginning of this conversation. It could be nothing or it could be everything. Or they could just decide to pull me off the assignment and… for some sick reason, even though I’m not feeling myself while I’m around those guys, I don’t want to quit yet. I have a hunch I barely scratched the surface of what the Hellhounds and their boss are about.

"How did you get this?" Nicole asks motioning at the wound on my cheek.

"Doing an errand for Thoreau."

"Everything okay?" She’s too damn perceptive.

"Someone was in my apartment. Probably Jeremy or one of his guys."

"I thought you said you developed a good working relationship with Thoreau."

"I did but Jeremy doesn’t like me. I think he’s trying to dig some dirt on me to get Thoreau to kick me out."

"Are you being careful?"

"I am. Does the Bureau have my back? What if he has the brain to send someone to Arizona and figures out that Cody Smith doesn’t look anything like I do?"

"I’ll take care of those loose ends."

"Thanks."

"Be careful, alright?" Nicole warns as our conversation comes to an end. Her eyes hold genuine concern for me. And I’m grateful because I’m tired of being a pawn, of wearing a mask. It never happened to me before—not during previous missions. But this time… It just feels different. And I wonder if I'm no longer cut out for this type of work, if I should be asking for some desk job.

"I'll do my best," I reply, trying to sound more confident than I actually am.

Exiting her car, I glance around to make sure no one is following me before heading to my own vehicle.

The second I slide into the driver's seat, memories of Isaac's touch invade my thoughts, making it difficult to focus on anything else. What the hell? Why does this keep happening to me?

And then my mind drifts back to my teenage years, recalling a memory I'd buried deep within myself.

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