“Wait,” I added, scanning the alley again, checking every edge, every shadow. “I need eyes on my current location. Cameras. Street feeds. Anything pointing at this block right here. You know anyone who can get into that?” I asked him, already knowing the answer.
A low exhale. “I might. Not cheap though.”
“Do it.”
End of discussion.
I ended the call and stood there in the silence,GAELcarved into the wall behind me like a brand.
Now what?
I stared up at the rooftops, the windows, the clean street that suddenly felt wrong in every direction. Someone was hunting us. Huntingme. And they weren’t hiding it.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket and headed toward the street, pulse steadying into something cold and lethal.
If they wantedGael?
They needed to be ready to meet him.
SEVENTEEN
Levi
Frank was waitingfor me by my car, arms folded tight across his chest as if he’d been standing there long enough to talk himself into and out of this conversation a dozen times. The lot was mostly empty—those dead hours between shifts—and he didn’t look away when I approached. He just watched me the way he always did—blunt, steady, as if he saw more than I ever said.
“I want to know where you get your intel,” he said, voice low, intent. Not accusatory. Concerned.
He’d asked questions before—little ones, casual ones—but neverthis. Never with that crease in his brow, the one that meant he’d reached the end of pretending he didn’t notice how I worked.
I froze. “You’ve never asked before.”
Frank huffed, rubbing a hand over his jaw, the lines at the corners of his eyes deepening. “Yeah. Well. I’m six months from retirement, and I don’t want to spend the next thirty years watching daytime TV and reorganizing my sock drawer. Sandy will want me out from under her feet, and I want to keep working. I want to feel useful.” His gaze sharpened. “I’ve been hinting for months for you to tell me.”
“You have?”
“When I ask if I can help you, Levi. Or when I say you should loop me in.” A short, dry laugh. “Jeez, son. For a detective, you’re very slow.” He smirked at me, but it faded fast. “Where are you getting your intel? And how can I help?”
That hit differently. Not suspicion. Not judgment.
Loyalty.
Frank wasn’t just my partner—he was the closest thing I had to family outside the Cave. And the idea of dragging him into my shadows felt wrong… but leaving him out of them felt worse.
I jerked my chin at my car. “Get in.”
He blinked, surprised, but didn’t hesitate, and I drove us out of the precinct, sticking to side streets out of habit. Old habits. Bad habits. The kind that kept you alive but eroded the clean edges of a badge. Frank didn’t comment—he’d seen me do it a thousand times, and maybe he’d known even then something wasn’t by-the-book.
We pulled into the Walmart lot and tucked between a semi and a tall delivery van—a dead zone for cameras, a blind spot for anyone watching.
Frank looked around, uneasy. “You planning to kill me, or confess to a crime?”
“Neither today.” I shut off the engine. He stared at me as if he was ready for anything and terrified of all of it. “But you wanted honesty. So here it is.”
He angled toward me, shoulders squared, bracing for impact.
“I have people,” I said. “Off-book. Skilled. Connected. People who do the work LAPD can’t—or won’t.”
“Okay…”
