Page 47 of Unexpectedly Wanted
Then it caught my attention.
The puzzle box sitting next to the couch. I walked over and picked it up with careful hands. Turning it over, I studied it closely. My eyes remained glued to it as I made my way to the second floor and into my room.
Crawling into the bed, I decided I was going to let the box steal my attention for the next couple of hours or so. I wasn’t a whiz when it came to puzzle boxes, but I also didn’t have it in me to quit. So, I’d work on it until I solved it. Before I touched anything, I studied it intently, remembering just how it looked whole. Where everything went, where the slots lined up.
Then I let myself get lost in solving that box.
I forced all my focus on it, knowing full well that something was going on with me.
Something I was sure would change everything if I actually let myself analyze it.
And I wasn’t ready for that yet.
17
Remy
I was leading this mission. I was one of the three that usually lead a team. Reed sometimes went out, but he really wasn’t made for the field. He had too much heart, and it showed how much shit got to him most of the time. I wasn’t saying it was a bad thing. I really liked that he still seemed very much human a lot of the time. In this kind of life, you learned not to take those things for granted.
Dune, Austin, and I were heading to Ocala, Florida, to follow up on some leads for a kidnapping case.
Crawford Tiller.
Forty-eight.
White male. Thinning black hair. Bad knee.
With any luck, we’d be able to track him down and save the five-year-old girl he’d snatched from a local ice cream shop. The shop had video surveillance, which we’d been able to get our hands on. Not legally, mind you. But I suppose that didn’t really matter. However, the shop’s equipment was outdated, and the footage showed the whole thing like a blurry bunch of blobs moving. There was enough there to know what was going on, and get an idea of what color the man’s skin and hair were. And when I later got my eyes on the police report— again, not legally— it was to find the partial plate a witness had been able to get.
Here we were, looking at a long car ride across the state line with only a couple of addresses to check out.
I didn’t mind going out on missions.
There was a lot that appealed to me about this job.
Saving people was number one.
But it also kept me busy. Kept me going.
“Shit,” Austin mumbled from the back seat of the SUV.
“What?” I asked, turning slightly to look back at him. He had his backpack in his lap, and half the shit that had been stuffed inside not only an hour ago was now sprawled out on the seat beside him.
Dune kept his hands on the steering wheel as he flicked his gaze up to the rearview mirror.
“I forgot my fuckin’ charger,” Austin said, brows pinched together in confusion. He huffed out a breath as he removed his hands from the depths of the backpack. Then he lifted his phone from his lap and looked at the screen. I could see from where I was sitting that the screen didn’t even light up. It must have been completely dead. “Remind me to grab one when we stop for gas.”
“I have one you can borrow,” I offered. “Need a charge now?”
“No,” he grumbled. “Thanks.”
I glanced at Dune, who cut his eyes to the side as he raised a brow.
This was unlike Austin. Something was up.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he huffed out, stuffing shit back into his bag. “I just… I swore I grabbed it.”
