Page 99 of Heroes & Hitmen
I want to believe this can last. Just for a second, I want to believe I can stay, that we’d be safe as long as we had each other.
But then a wave crashes over us, stealing my breath, and I’m jolted back to reality.
I remember who I am; what I have to do. I squeeze his hand hard, memorizing the feel of it in mine.
When we finally return to shore, Jordan is waiting on her towel with a knowing smile. I can see the question in her eyes, the same one she asked earlier– if I’m really prepared to leave him.
The thought of that is like a knife to the heart, but I know what I have to do.
So, I lie beside Ares and let the sun dry my skin. Let the warmth sink in. I promise myself that when the time comes, I’ll find the strength to do what needs to be done, but for now I pretend this isn’t all temporary.
Because it really is a perfect day. And I’m going to hold onto it with everything I have.
CHAPTER 31
Ares
The Chicago pack’sTactical Training Center looks more like a minimum-security prison than a fitness facility, and I suppose that’s kind of the point. The massive building on the edge of the warehouse district houses the pack’s low-level enforcers, serves as a boot camp facility for trainees with hopes of becoming future enforcers, and provides confinement for pack criminals to serve out sentences handed down by Alpha Gage. The TTC sits behind three layers of fence and razor wire with a fun little sign promising an armed response to trespassers– which seems dramatic, but that’s the whole vibe of this city. For a pack that claims to be evolved, they sure do love their medieval-style rule.
I’m parked in the back lot beyond the view of the cameras, tapping out a text to Drake with one hand while the fingers of my other drum against the steering wheel. Nash swore up and down that Drake is legit, going so far as to say that he’s the only person in this city he’d trust with his life aside from his cousin Will. High praise, considering Nash rarely trusts anyone. And I trust Nash, so by the transitive property, I suppose I trust Drake, too. More or less.
Exhaling a slow breath, I hit send on my message to Drake letting him know I’m here, then settle in for the wait. Apparently this guy’s high up in the TTC; a deputy warden or some shit. Which seems a little sketchy, considering I’m seeking help to defy his Alpha, but if Nash vouched for him, that’s good enough for me. It’s not like I’ve got a whole lot of options at this point.
We’re just days away from the full moon, meaning we’ve onlygot days to ensure this plan goes off without a hitch. Alpha Gage is still breathing down my neck about undergoing his bullshit ‘procedure’ to get my mating serum extracted, but the guy will have to hold a gun to my head if he wants to force me into it– and even then, I might take a bullet over the needle. Miley’s right, her father is downright diabolical. And knowing he’ll be on the warpath after she comes up missing, the last thing I need is to give him any more ammunition to use against me.
I watch the side door of the TTC building as I mentally go over the script for how this meeting is supposed to go down. Quick intro, sly handoff, zero drama. Don’t linger, don’t ask stupid questions. And above all, if things end up taking a turn for the worse, I was never here.
Five minutes later, the door swings open and a beast of a man steps out, moving toward the parking lot with a deceptively casual stride. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, with a linebacker’s build and blonde hair that’s buzzed short on the sides, the longer strands up top neatly combed back. He looks every bit the part of a military commander with his clean-cut, squared away appearance; the kind of guy who seems like he’d rain down hell for even the most minor infractions against pack rules. But I suppose looks can be deceiving, because this has gotta be Drake.
I step out of my truck and start across the lot to meet him halfway, rolling my shoulders as I approach. The closer I get, the bigger he seems. I’m not easily intimidated, butgoddamnthis guy is huge.
“You must be Ares,” he says once he’s within earshot, his voice deep and commanding.
“Yeah,” I answer, carding my fingers through my hair. “Guess Nash told you to look for the redhead?”
The corner of his mouth ticks up. “Nah, I can clock crazy from a mile away, and considering what you’re about to do, you’re certifiable,” he remarks, extending a hand toward me.
I chuckle softly as I slap my palm into his, giving it a firm shake. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Nash said you would,” he muses, tipping his head to the left. “Walk?”
“Sure,” I reply, shoving my hands into my pockets and following his lead.
We head down the perimeter of the inner fence line, gravel crunching under our boots. Neither of us say anything, andhonestly, it’s kinda nice. I ran a protection detail this morning for a dude who wouldn’t shut the fuck up, so for once, I actually welcome the peace and quiet.
We make it past the sprawling TTC building and around to an alley between two others, where Drake finally slows to a stop and turns to face me. He glances back and forth a few times to ensure we’re alone, then pulls a manila folder from inside his TTC-issued windbreaker and hands it over.
“That’s everything,” he says, tone all business now. “Birth certificates, social security cards, IDs, even a couple of fake high school transcripts. My guy said it should hold up to anything short of a government background check, which I assume won’t be an issue.”
“No, this is more than enough,” I breathe, flipping the folder open with my thumb and scanning the paperwork inside.
Miley and Jordan will be taking on the identities of Molly and Joanne Harper, a pair of half-sisters from Butte, Montana. They’ll be introduced to the pack as distant relatives of my mom’s, the connection substantiated by assuming her maiden name.
“Thanks again for this,” I murmur as I flip the folder closed, genuinely impressed by how authentic everything looks. “I owe you one.”
Drake huffs a laugh, folding his thick forearms over his chest. “Nah, I owed Nash a favor, so this is my way of squaring up. Not that I wouldn’t have done it for him either way. The guy never asks for anything, so you must be important to him. His mate’s your sister, right?”
“Right,” I confirm, nodding. “But Nash has always been family, even before the two of them got together and made it weird.”
