Page 134 of Ugly Beautiful Scars

"Um… I just remembered something."

"What is it?"

She flips the matchbox over and over, her movements jerky. "I'm so sorry. I should've remembered earlier. I just had those headaches so my head was fuzzy, and being with The Director was so terrifying. I'm sorry."

"What did you remember?"

"Well, these matches were here when I moved in. Just something left behind. The number on it is a three-one-two area code, which it says is in Chicago. And The Director… I saw his phone in the SUV. He was texting someone. He was telling them to get a room ready, that… that 'he' wouldn't know."

My skin prickles. "He who?"

"I don't know. But the number on his screen had a three-one-two area code. I remember because it made me think of The Director's birthday. March twelfth. I hate that I remember his birthday." She wrings her hands. "It just came back to me now. It felt like… like he was coordinating with someone else. Someone who wasn't supposed to know about me. Or almost like someone else made him release me six years ago. I know it sounds crazy."

"It's not crazy. Every detail is important. I'm glad you remembered." I kiss her temple, trying to radiate calm so she doesn't worry.

But inside, my nervous system is firing off missiles.

Chicago brings back a flood of bad memories.

Back when Sienna was kidnapped by her ex, Anthony Russo, I went undercover as part of an extraction mission. I fucked up and she got kidnapped under my watch, and Declan was going to attempt to rescue her without me, so of course I stepped in. Declan would've gotten himself killed, and I needed to fix my own mistake.

It was a clusterfuck from start to finish. Declan and I had gone in with a half-assed plan: me playing the part of a gun for hire, someone Anthony could use in his operation. It was a long shot, but it was all we had.

When fucking Jeremy brought me to Anthony's location, I'd put on my best mercenary face, spinning some bullshit story about being out of a job and needing work. Plus, I had the right skills.

The whole thing was a trap so Declan and I could find an opportunity to rescue Sienna from Anthony's house. It seemed to be working, but Anthony had been a few steps ahead and must've known somehow that I was a spy. Once Declan and I were in his house, Anthony surprised me from behind like the house had a maze of hidden rooms. I swear he jumped out of the wallpaper. He knocked me out and busted some ribs. When I woke up, Sienna and Declan were helping me to the car. And Anthony was dead.

A lot of help I was… but Sienna was rescued, so that's all that mattered.

Regardless, before that shit show, I got a glimpse into Anthony's operation. Anthony was primarily involved with weaponssmuggling and some smaller drug operations. That seemed to fit his M.O. but what caught my attention was how often his men mentioned someone else. Someone higher up the chain, like Anthony was just an underdog. The man on top seemed to run a lot of illegal branches. And all those big branches had smaller ones.

Victor was the top dog's name. I don't know why this guy is in my thoughts now—who knows who Miller's Chicago contact is. I doubt it'd be Victor, but when I think of Chicago, that's always who comes to mind.

I never met Victor directly—no introductions—but I was in the same room once while he met with Anthony about business. His eyes landed on me for a half-second and my body felt like it'd been injected with darkness.

That man is the fucking devil.

"Sean?" Londyn's voice pulls me back to the present. "What is it?"

I decide not to share that snippet of my past right now; it's not relevant. Just one of those memories that likes to pop up to haunt me. I'm definitely never setting foot in Chicago again.

"Mike and I have both had our concerns about another person in play. Something about those guys in baseball caps felt off."

Londyn sucks in an alarmed breath. "I thought they were the men who attacked me in California. You think they're two new men?"

"I'm not sure. If someone's watching Miller, it's possible that person sent those men to your apartment. And the person may also be behind the Navy Caps. But there's no clear motive, so I don't have any answers." She opens her mouth to speak, but I shake my head. "We'll be gone in two days. We're getting out, so just focus on that. The cameras are still set up. And Mike is still here as back up."

She glances at the candles, tears building in her eyes. "So I have two stalkers now? The Director and some unknown person?"

I want to lighten the heaviness for a moment, so I say, "Three if you count me."

Thankfully, she smiles.

"Sorry. That was some dark humor," I add.

"No, it's cute. You're the only stalker I want. The others can go to hell."

"That's exactly how you should feel about every other man in the world."

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