His hand on the small of my back guides me behind a stack of containers. The touch burns through my shirt, and I resist the instinct to shake him off when stealth matters more than personal space.
Cold metal digs into my spine as we flatten ourselves into the narrow gap between shipping units, the space barely wide enough for one person, let alone two Alphas.
The approaching beam of a flashlight cuts through the darkness, and Gabriel’s body squeezescloser to mine. His chest rises and falls against my arm, his breath warming the side of my neck as we both hold still.
His pheromones, mixed with sweat and adrenaline, are a heady blend that leaves my head spinning.
“Two guards,” he whispers, lips so close to my ear that I feel them move. “They weren’t scheduled for this section.”
“Maybe your intel isn’t as good as you think.” The words come out harsher than intended as a defense mechanism triggered by his proximity.
Gabriel doesn’t respond, his attention fixed on the approaching footsteps. The narrow space between containers becomes a trap, with no room to maneuver if we’re discovered.
My muscles coil with tension, ready to fight or run.
The guards’ voices carry through the night air, growing louder with each second.
“…third time this week. Manager says we gotta double-check the north section.”
“Waste of time. Nobody’s stupid enough to mess with Rossi’s shipments.”
The name confirms Orien’s information. Tony has hooks in the dock’s security. I strain to catch more ofthe conversation, stretching up to peer around the corner of our hiding spot. As I do, my sleeve catches on a jagged edge of metal, dragging up past my wrist as I reach higher.
Gabriel sucks in a breath as he spots the crisscross of scars on my wrist, and a question spills from his lips that I never wanted to hear. “What happened?”
I yank my sleeve down with enough force to tear the fabric, my body going rigid with defensiveness. “Nothing.”
The flashlight beam sweeps past our hiding spot, illuminating the concern etched in the crease between Gabriel’s brows, but no disgust or horror. It’s a look I’ve seen too often from people who discover my scars, who think they understand what they’re seeing.
I wait for him to push, to demand explanations or offer unwanted sympathy.
He does neither.
Gabriel’s face clears as he returns his attention to the guards passing by. “They’re heading toward the south gate. We’ll need to adjust our route.”
The knot in my stomach loosens.
The guards’ voices fade into the distance, their flashlight beams disappearing around a corner.
Gabriel eases away from me, and I breathe easier without his body heat mixing with mine. “We shouldmove. If they’re increasing security, we don’t have much time left.”
“What about Diaz?” I demand.
“We already missed the end of his shift.” Gabriel lets out a long sigh. “I’ll have to get his home address so we can question him. You might get to have your fun after all.”
A pleased rumble comes from me as I step out first, scanning the area before motioning for him to follow. We weave between containers, more cautious. Gabriel keeps pace beside me, his footsteps silent on the concrete.
We reach a new vantage point overlooking the loading area, and Gabriel pulls out his camera again, focusing on a group of workers unloading a small boat that definitely isn’t on any official manifest. The men move in near darkness, transferring unmarked crates to a waiting truck.
“That’s new,” Gabriel murmurs, zooming in. “Usually, they stick to container ships.”
“Smaller vessels are harder to track,” I reply, glad for the focus on work. “They must be testing new routes.”
“Yeah.” Gabriel photographs license plates and faces when visible. “This connects to the bribery wesaw earlier. Security looks the other way while they move product through unofficial channels.”
We document three more exchanges over the next hour, noting times and faces on Gabriel’s phone. Each piece of evidence builds a clearer picture of Rossi’s operation, how goods move through the port, which guards are compromised, and which vehicles transport the shipments.
A chill settles into my bones as we wait, the sea breeze cutting through my jacket. As my shoulders tense from the cold, Gabriel doesn’t comment. Instead, he shifts, positioning himself to block the wind without making it obvious that’s what he’s doing.
