Page 46 of Fractured Loyalties
She blinks. “I’m not afraid of you, Elias.”
“I need to step out,” I say then. The words fall too suddenly, like they’ve been sitting on my tongue waiting for a reason.
She tenses. “Where?”
“I have to tie up a few things. It won’t take long. But I need you to stay here. Doors locked. Lights off.”
Her brows draw together, voice low. “Is something wrong?”
“Not yet,” I reply. “And I want to keep it that way.”
She stares at me like she wants to argue. But doesn’t.
“Will you tell me if something is?”
“I’ll do more than that,” I promise.
She nods once.
“Get some sleep if you can.”
She doesn’t reply.
But when I stand, she reaches for my hand.
I let her.
I stay there a moment longer, her fingers warm against mine, her grip uncertain but present. Then, gently, I try to ease my hand free.
“I’ll be back soon.”
She nods but doesn’t let go until I make her. Her eyes linger as I step out of the room, quietly pulling the door closed behind me.
Back in the hallway, I secure the perimeter—checking locks, windows, sightlines. Habit. Ritual. But necessary.
Then I head for the garage.
The car hums to life beneath my hands, and the road peels away in silence. I drive without music. Without distraction.
Somewhere between the second bend and the off-ramp, I send a message to Lydia:
Start tracking Caleb round the clock. Full digital sweep. Habits. Associates. Movement. Anything recent. Meet me at the Southpoint hold.
Her reply is instant:On it. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.
I take a less-traveled route through the industrial zone, parking beside a faceless gray building that doesn’t exist on any public record. Inside, it’s sterile—white walls, low halogen lights, silence. A place built for silence.
Lydia’s already there, seated at a folding table beside a bank of monitors.
“You look like hell,” she says.
“Feel worse.”
She tosses a tablet onto the table. “Burner phones. A flagged wire transfer from a shell corp linked to Alan Strane—a fixer. And these.”
“This is escalating,” I say.
“No shit,” Lydia responds as she studies me. Long and level. “You’re too close to this.”
