“Fuck off,” Ace grumbled as he rolled his eyes. “Just want to look—” He reached for the tablet, and everyone heldtheir breath. Touching Wizard’s shit without permission was practically like waving a red flag at a bull.
Wizard jumped to his feet, pressing the device close to his chest as he snarled, “Best watch your sticky hands, Ace. I’d hate to make Poppy a widow before you’re even married.”
Ace glanced at King who shook his head with a “you’re on your own” expression.
Wizard looked practically homicidal. “Prez ain’t gonna keep saving your ass if you keep doing the same stupid shit.”
King had talked Wizard off the ledge a few times before when Ace had overstepped Wizard’s boundary. In the past, whatever Ace ended up showing Wizard after manhandling the tech genius’s electronics had helped soothe his ire. But being right would only get Ace so far for so long.
Ace arched a brow and leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m the fucking money guy, brother. Nobody is gonna put my ass in the ground.”
Wizard growled, and a wicked smile spread across his face. “You don’t need your balls to crunch numbers.”
“Like Poppy would let you anywhere near my balls,” Ace scoffed.
Wizard opened his mouth, then snapped it shut—the wind clearly taken from his sails because the asshole had a point. Pissing off one of the old ladies was a very bad idea.
My jaw tightened slightly as I closed the file and dropped it onto King’s desk. “I’ll head out there tomorrow and take a look around. I’ll clock the security and see if I can cobble together an idea of what their system looks like.”
King inclined his head slightly. “Good. See what you can find. Keep it quiet for now. We don’t want to tip our hand until we know what we’re dealing with.”
I stood from my chair, giving King a curt nod of understanding. As I left the office, my mind wandered back tomy day spent at the orchard, stacking bales of hay and hanging decorations for the fall festival. But the heat that flared through my chest wasn’t from the work—it was from Clara’s sass and stubbornness, the spark in her amber eyes that wouldn’t leave my head.
I forced myself to push the thought aside for now. My priority needed to be whatever was going on in Cedar Hills, not the woman who’d crashed headfirst into my life without warning. But even as I headed back to my bike, I knew keeping Clara Winslet out of my mind would be a hell of a lot harder than anything else I had to handle tomorrow.
I parkedmy bike about a quarter mile down the road from the property, tucking it behind a thick stand of trees where it wouldn’t catch any attention. From there, I covered the rest of the distance on foot, the crunch of leaves and gravel under my boots barely audible, even to me. I kept to the shadows as I moved closer, every muscle in my body coiled tight as my eyes scanned every inch of the perimeter.
The building sat back from the road, half-hidden by overgrown shrubs and chain-link fencing that had definitely seen better days. It was an abandoned industrial site that looked like it had been built decades ago and left to rot—except there was clear evidence of life and movement now.
Vehicles were parked in the lot, some newer models, all with nondescript plates designed to avoid attention. Some were obscured through physical damage or buildup of mud. Others had been intentionally modified to evade cameras, using illegal covers that distorted the identifying information.
Thick cables ran up the sides of the building to newly installed security cameras, angled to cover every possible entry and exit. My jaw clenched. This wasn’t some typical “security training” outfit—this place had the heavy surveillance of somewhere holding something far more valuable than a few guard dogs and practice dummies.
Crouching behind a thicket of brush, I studied the layout. My eyes tracked a cluster of men patrolling around the building’s perimeter, their movements disciplined and precise, each armed and alert as if they expected trouble at any moment. Their postures were rigid, heads turning with trained regularity as they scanned their surroundings. From their movements, it was clear these men had extensive training, far beyond some simple rent-a-cop security detail.
I noted the timing between patrols and mentally mapped the intervals, filing away the smallest details about their rotations and where their eyes lingered longest. After a while, I shifted my attention toward the building itself. The lobby windows were heavily tinted, making it impossible to see clearly inside. But occasionally, I caught glimpses of people moving behind the dark glass, shadows shifting with purposeful intent. Entry required key card access at a reinforced front door, which was guarded by another pair of armed men whose gazes remained locked on their surroundings like hunting dogs.
All of it screamed overkill. This level of security wasn’t about guarding a private business or even protecting valuable property. This was the kind of operation you set up when you had secrets you’d do anything to keep buried. Ones that could ruin lives, topple powerful people, or spark wars. I’d seen it before in the private security world, in covert facilities where the men inside didn’t officially exist and the government looked the other way. That same heavy, oppressive silence hung in the airaround this building, whispering danger even though nothing obvious had happened.
I stayed crouched there until the sun sank below the treeline, shadows stretching out to cover me in deeper darkness. My muscles had gone tight and stiff from holding position for so long, but I barely noticed. My mind was already running through possibilities, sorting through every scrap of information I’d collected—security patterns, shift rotations, and patrol schedules.
This wasn’t something we could rush into. One wrong move or overlooked detail, and we’d lose our chance to learn exactly what was going on here.
Finally, when darkness was fully settled and the next guard rotation came on, I slipped quietly away from the perimeter, retreating back to the thick stand of trees where I’d left my bike hidden. Only when I was sure I was safely out of sight did I reach for my phone, hitting King’s number and pressing it to my ear. He picked up on the second ring, his voice a low rumble edged with impatience.
“What’ve you got?”
“This place is locked down tighter than a federal facility,” I growled, my tone tense as I explained what I’d observed. “Armed patrols, disciplined rotations, key card access on the lobby doors. Cameras everywhere. Whatever they’re guarding, it’s worth spending serious money and manpower to keep hidden.”
King let out a low curse. “Fuck. Sounds like they’re definitely hiding something big. Any idea what’s inside?”
“Nothing I could confirm from here,” I admitted, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “But it’s no damn training facility. They’re operating like it’s a holding center or something equally fucked. There’s too much security for this to be anything less than serious.”
“All right.” There was a brief pause stretching between us before he spoke again, his tone decisive. “For now, keep eyes and ears on the place. We need to know exactly what we’re dealing with before we move. Echo will set up surveillance equipment tomorrow to start monitoring. You’re lead on this—observe and report back as soon as anything changes. Stay sharp.”
“Understood.”
The line went quiet as he disconnected, and I shoved the phone back into my pocket, irritation prickling under my skin as I swung onto my bike and fired up the engine. My instincts screamed that this was the kind of trouble that could escalate into chaos if we weren’t careful. But knowing we had a plan of action settled some of that restless energy, allowing me to shift focus toward another priority.
