Page 72 of Rescuing Aria
NINETEEN
Jon
A cold spikeshoots through my chest as I tap open the file. Blood pounds in my ears, drowning out the ambient restaurant noise. CJ doesn’t send messages like this unless it matters.
I angle the screen away from Aria, shielding it with my body while the video loads.
Surveillance footage from The Little Matchstick Girl. Timestamp: less than fifteen minutes ago.
A man steps into the frame. No rush. No hesitation. Hoodie up, posture loose, almost casual—like he owns the night. He strolls to the front door, crouches, and presses something against the glass.
My stomach tightens as he straightens, glances directly at the camera, and walks unhurriedly back to a waiting car.
Not an attack. A message.
I’m back. And I know where to find you.
“What is it?” Aria’s voice cuts through my thoughts, sharper than the knife beside the salmon she barely touched.
I lock the screen, already calculating our next moves.
“We need to leave.”
“Is it the shop? Is Ember okay?” Her hand finds my forearm, fingers digging in with surprising strength.
Before I can answer, Marcus returns to the table, tucking his own phone into his suit jacket.
“I apologize for the interruption.” His gaze shifts between us, registering the tension. “Is everything alright?”
“No. Someone just left a package at The Little Matchstick Girl.” I stand, hand automatically checking my concealed weapon. “I need to get Aria somewhere secure while my team investigates.”
“Somewhere secure? My penthouse has security measures that rival the Pentagon.” Marcus’s eyebrow arches with affronted surprise.
“Dad, please.” Aria rises, already gathering her purse. “If Jon thinks we should?—”
“My security team is the best money can buy.” Marcus cuts her off with the same tone he likely uses to silence boardroom dissent. “The penthouse is a fortress. You’re coming home, where I can ensure your safety.”
My phone vibrates with incoming messages. Delta team deploying. Razor and Storm are already on site. Blaze is five minutes out. Mac and Jenny another ten minutes.
“Ember and Ryn are at the shop right now.” I keep my voice steady despite the growing urgency. “My team is moving to secure them and the scene.”
Something shifts in Marcus’s expression—a calculation happening behind cold eyes. “Then by all means, handle the situation at the shop. I’ll take my daughter home where she’ll be safe.”
“I’m staying with Jon.” Aria’s spine straightens.
“Aria—” The muscle in Marcus’s jaw jumps, the only sign that his control isn’t absolute.
“Dad. I’m not going anywhere until I know Ember and Ryn are safe.”
I guide them toward the exit, sending rapid texts while scanning the restaurant. Too many windows. Too many unknown faces.
Marcus’s sleek town car idles at the curb, driver already holding the door open. It’s the safest option. Bulletproof. GPS-tracked. Secure comms already built in.
I hate relying on his resources, but right now, this isn’t about pride. I can retrieve my truck later.
As we slide into the leather interior, I send a detailed alert:Have Aria and Marcus Holbrook.
CJ’s response comes instantly:Storm and Razor on scene. Blaze ETA three minutes. Wolfe signature confirmed. Extraction to HQ planned. Will see you there.
