"They're riding into a situation with an unknown number of hostiles, backing up a federal raid on a man desperate enough to run and powerful enough to have stayed hidden this long." I wrap my arms around myself. "Nothing about that screams 'fine' to me."
"You really love him, don't you?"
The question catches me off guard. I've said the words to Mason, admitted it in the heat of the moment, but hearing someone else acknowledge it makes it more real somehow.
"Yeah. I really do." The admission feels like stepping off a cliff. "Which is insane because I've known him less than twoweeks, and he's an outlaw biker who solves problems with violence, and I'm a journalist who's supposed to expose people like him."
"But he's not like other criminals, is he? He's got a code, principles. He protects people." Sarah sets down her tea. "I've been watching him with you, Ava. The way he looks at you like you're the most important thing in his world. That's not fake. That's real."
"I know it's real. That's what scares me." I stand, needing to move again. "What happens when this is over? When there's no threat keeping us together, when real life starts and we have to figure out if this thing between us can survive outside of crisis mode?"
"Maybe it can. Maybe it can't, but you won't know unless you try."
Before I can respond, the front door slams open and Condor rushes in, laptop under his arm and phone pressed to his ear. His expression's grim, and my stomach drops.
"What happened?" I demand, crossing to him. "Are they okay?"
He holds up a finger, finishing his call, and when he hangs up, his face is tight with tension. "There's been a complication. The estate where they thought Castellano was hiding? It was a trap, there were explosives rigged throughout the building. The FBI triggered them when they breached."
My blood turns to ice. "The club, were they inside?"
"No. Vulture held them back as perimeter security. But three FBI agents are down, two critical. And Castellano wasn't there. The whole thing was a setup to take out law enforcement."
"Where are they now?"
"Pulling back, regrouping. The FBI's calling in more support, but they've lost the element of surprise. Castellano knows they'recoming for him." Condor's jaw clenches. "And he's willing to kill federal agents to stay free."
This is my fault. It’s my investigation, my evidence, my determination to expose this operation that’s led to people dying. Those agents have families, lives, futures that just got stolen because I couldn't leave well enough alone.
"Ava." Sarah's voice cuts through my spiral. "This isn't on you. Castellano's the one who built a trafficking empire. He's the one who set those explosives. You're trying to stop him."
"By putting everyone I care about in danger."
"By doing the right thing." She grabs my shoulders, forcing me to look at her. "You've saved lives. Twenty girls who would've disappeared into that pipeline are safe because of you. Don't let guilt over casualties make you forget that."
My phone rings, Mason's name on the screen, and I answer so fast I nearly drop it.
"Tell me you're okay," I say without preamble.
"I'm fine. We're all fine." His voice is rough, adrenaline and anger mixing in equal measure. "But the op's blown. Castellano's in the wind again, and the feds lost good people tonight."
"Condor told me. I'm so sorry."
"Not your fault. This is on Castellano and whoever tipped him off." Background noise suggests he's on the move. "We're headed back. Should be there in thirty minutes. Don't go anywhere."
"Where would I go? I'm in lockdown, remember?"
"Good. Stay that way." He pauses. "Love you."
The words are rushed, almost swallowed by engine noise, but they hit me like a physical force. "Love you too. Be safe."
He hangs up, and I'm left holding the phone, my heart pounding and my mind racing. The relief that he's okay wars with the fear of what comes next. Castellano's proven he's willingto kill to protect himself, willing to sacrifice anyone who gets in his way.
That makes him more dangerous than ever.
The next thirty minutes crawl by with excruciating slowness. Sarah stays with me, a solid presence that keeps me from completely falling apart. Condor monitors communications, updating us when he gets information, and slowly the picture becomes clearer.
The explosives were sophisticated, military grade. The kind of thing that requires expertise and resources. Castellano didn't set them himself, which means he's got people working for him, people skilled in demolitions and willing to kill federal agents.
