Then we file silently from the house. The place that’s been both our hell and our haven.
Only to become our downfall.
This is why Ansel didn’t tell me. This is why he felt as though he didn’t have a choice.
Because he knew our house had been compromised.
But why didn’t he just tell me in the alley outside the café? Or outside his house? Was someone watching us? Did Ansel know about it?
It’s not until we’re in the safe house fifteen minutes later that I get an answer. None of us has spoken since leaving Wylder’s. Not even when Dalton, Jackson, and Wyatt joined us, the latter going straightinto Matthias’s arms. We take the time to sweep for bugs or cameras. It’s only when we’re certain we’re safe that we finally speak.
“This is why Ansel broke up with you,” Samson says, throwing several pictures on the table. “They were targeting you personally.”
I frown as I pull the images closer. They’re all of Ansel and me out and about in St. Dismas. At the library. In restaurants. There’s even one from our tryst in the opera box.
When I find out who took that, I’m going to carve out their eyeballs. How fucking dare they capture such an intimate moment on film?
“So they were following us.” I don’t like it. The fact that I didn’t notice pisses me off to no end. “But that’s not reason enough for Ansel to hide this all from me.”
“Cade, you’re not looking properly,” Samson snaps, jabbing a big finger at one of the pictures. “Look closer.”
I peer down at it. When I see what Samson’s on about, the room tilts. “Is that a fucking sniper mark?”
“I’d assume so,” Wylder says tightly. “There’s one on you in every photo.”
“Remind me to retrain you on paying attention to your surroundings,” Samson grunts.
“We all need a reminder, apparently,” Harley says, sifting through more pages. More photos appear. Everyone in this room has been caught on camera.
Tiny red dots are hidden in every shot.
Neo makes a small distressed sound. “That’s why Ansel didn’t tell any of us. He knew you were being watched.”
“We all were,” Dalton says darkly. “Fuckers have been in our territory, stalking us, and none of us had any idea.”
“It has to be the fucking pipes, the plumbers,” Wylder murmurs. “How they managed that is fucking beyond me, but I’m going to fix this. And them. Take them apart slowly.”
Neo glances up at Wylder, his nostrils flaring before he turns away.
My gaze drifts to Jackson. The teenager is slouched against thewall beside Dalton, his jaw ticking as he stares at the photos. I follow his eyeline, expecting to see a shot of him.
But instead, I see one of Dalton in the gym, a red dot in the hollow of his throat.
“I can’t believe this,” I whisper. “Ansel’s been going through all of this alone.”
I understand why he didn’t tell me, but I don’t like it. I fucking hate that this bullshit syndicate took his voice from him. That he couldn’t let me protect him.
I’ll protect him now. I’m not going to let the Umbra Syndicate hurt him. I’m going to save Ansel, then protect him every fucking day going forward.
It’s that simple.
“He’s not alone now,” Wylder says succinctly. My heart swells as my brothers nod in agreement.
I knew they wouldn’t let me do this alone, but it still means so much to see them having my back, having Ansel’s back.
“He better not be,” Neo says darkly. “I don’t like violence, but I’m very pro you using it in this situation.”
I snort, heading for the gun cabinet. “Trust me, violence is the secondary MO in this situation.”
