Whatever she called it, she hadn’t hurt anyone. Except maybe herself. It was a completely different scenario.
Dak speared her with his dark eyes, the intensity compelling her to hold his gaze. “It takes me a long time to trust someone once trust is broken.”
Fire raced through her core.
She’d broken that trust. Not once, but twice.
Worse, she hadn’t only betrayed her supervisor. She’d betrayed her friend.
Pressure built in her chest.
Of all the people in her life, Dak had always dealt straight. It was one of the things she admired most about him.
So why was it so hard for her to reciprocate that honesty?
“I get it.” She struggled to swallow. “I didn’t think that not telling you was the same as lying. I… I still don’t. But I understand why full disclosure is so important now and I promise you’ll have it from this point out.”
A sense of déjà vu settled over her.
She’d said something like this before, right after she joined the team. She’d failed to live up to her promise, but she’d do better going forward.
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down, effectively avoiding eye contact. “I hope so.”
Damage from the past was compounded by damage she’d inflicted.
While he had every reason to doubt her now, she’d make sure he never did again. No matter what, she’d repair the broken trust.
“You need to go to OPR.” Dak’s voice jerked her back. “It’s better if Caldwell hears about this from you.”
“I was going to. I wanted to tell you first.”
“And I appreciate it.”
Even if the underlying hurt was still there. He didn’t say it, but she could see it in his eyes.
“I’ll do that now.” She pushed up from the edge of her desk and offered what she hoped was a lighthearted grin. “And if I don’t get suspended, I’ll be back soon.”
Dak didn’t return the smile, but nodded his agreement.
Weight settled across her shoulders as she left the office. While she wasn’t looking forward to the conversation with Caldwell, the weight had little to do with the OPR agent. Or the possible repercussions of her actions. She could handle all that.
What really bothered her was the way she’d hurt Dak.
Rarely did he display such vulnerability, but today he’d completely let down his guard, something she’d forced him to do by looking out for herself.
Well, no more.
Dak always put the team – and her – above himself. It was time for her to follow that example.
No matter the personal cost.
₪ ₪ ₪
Had it been a day yet?
Mitch paced across the sparsely furnished prison and tried the door. Again.
Still locked. Not that he’d expected anything else.
His gaze roved the room that was his temporary home.
Maybe permanent home. At this point, he really wasn’t sure.
Only two doors. One led to a little bathroom, the other to freedom.
Only one was unlocked.
It was like a tiny, windowless studio apartment. A bed on one wall, sofa and coffee table, and short counter bookended by a sink and fridge. The microwave was bolted to the counter, leaving only a few feet of usable counter space.
He’d gone through the kitchenette’s cabinets. No knives, obviously. Only plastic sporks. Not exactly a formidable weapon.
Paper plates, no pans. The microwave didn’t even have a glass plate on the bottom.
There was nothing in here he could use as a weapon.
Even the TV was embedded into the wall.
The fridge and cupboards were stocked with some staples, so he wouldn’t starve, not right away anyway.
Something told him that Tio kept this apartment stocked and ready at all times.
Why, he wasn’t sure. Part of him didn’t really want to know.
After his run-in with Tio last night, Zane had brought him here, to the warehouse with the purposefully dilapidated appearance.
Once they’d brought him inside, he saw how deceptive the exterior really was. The interior boasted sheetrock on the walls, finished floors, and decorative light fixtures.
It looked more like a house or office than an old dockside warehouse.
They’d led him past a number of closed doors and into an elevator, then taken him to the third – and top – floor.
He hadn’t heard a sound since being left here. No voices, doors closing, water running… nothing.
Either he was the only person in the building or this place was seriously soundproofed.
He didn’t want to think about why they’d need to soundproof a building so effectively.
Dropping onto the sofa, he turned on the TV and flipped through the channels.
This whole thing was weird.
Why would Tio go to the trouble, not to mention expense, of buying this old warehouse, massively renovating the inside, and building at least one apartment? With cable! The TV even had cable.
But no windows or sunlight.
Funny how he’d always taken those things for granted.
While he didn’t know what Tio was thinking long-term, he wasn’t placing odds on living out a full life.
No, Tio was probably only keeping him around until their current shipments cleared. Once they did, well, his future was about as shaky as a raft in a hurricane.
Which meant he had about two weeks to figure out a way out of this prison.
Less, if Tio could come up with a way to do this without him.
Worse, no one was even looking for him. Kevyn probably wasn’t too surprised that he didn’t show last night. Maybe had even expected it. She wouldn’t sound any kind of alarm.
If he was going to survive, he’d have to figure a way out himself. There was no other option.
His strength fled and he hunched over, cradling his head in his hands.
Years of only looking out for himself had left him completely and utterly alone.
₪ ₪ ₪
It
