Page 102 of Wicked Heat

“I’ve got one more feed to check,” Noah says. He taps some buttons, and the current video is replaced by another. It’s the same action—the man crossing the street, then disappearing into the gray behind the Ripped Bodice—only this is from a different camera, so the angle is slightly different. Now, it’s clear that he’s wearing a ball cap, but unlike the first video that entirely hid his hair, this time a tuft sticks out at the side. The tape is black and white, but the tuft is light, so probably blond or very, very light brown.

“This is good, right? I mean, this could really help us find him.”

The men exchange glances. “It’s a start,” Noah says. “But we don’t have a face. It won’t be easy.”

“There’s something familiar about him,” I say, still staring at the screen and that tuft of hair. Those shoulders. The way he moves. Something. But I can’t quite put my finger on it.

“Finger!” I say the word in the same moment that I see the truth. “Look. Look,” I repeat, poking at the monitor. “See? He’s twisting a ring.”

I glance between the men, expecting grins and high-fives. Instead, they simply gape at me.

“Martin Street. He works at Upper Crust. I’m positive.”

“Holy shit,” Ash says, his voice low. “You two nailed him.”

I’m giddy as I look between the men. “What do we do now? Send in a team, right? He can’t possibly be the only one involved.”

“We keep with the plan,” Ash says. “We make sure you’re right. We transfer the money. And we trace it.”

I nod. Digital tracking. I still don’t understand it, but I trust these men.

“You’re sure about this?” Ash asks me, coming to my side and taking my hand. “There’s always the chance he’ll have time to release those videos. Or whoever’s working with him will. Odds are good they’re already cued up. It’s just a matter of pushing a button and making them go live. You’re strong, baby,” he says, pulling me close. “But strong or not, you shouldn’t have to live with those videos out in the world. Anne shouldn’t have to, either.”

“If I back away, they win by default,” I say. “And I think Nikki and Damien would agree. Anne and I aren’t the ones who did anything wrong.” I manage a little shrug. “Do I want the videos released? No. Am I willing to risk it to catch the people who are doing this? Yes.”

I bite my lip as I look at Ash. “Should I call and talk to Nikki and Damien?”

He shakes his head. “You know them well, just like you said. And so do I. Besides,” he adds with a grim half-smile. “We’re going to nail the fuckers, and those videos aren’t going to see the light of day.”

I squeeze his hand. “I believe you,” I say. I mean it with all my heart, too. But the truth is, if I’m wrong—if those videos are released—I’ll survive.

When this started, I wasn’t strong enough. But I’ve learned a lot about myself these last few days with Ash. Now, I am strong enough.

“You’re amazing,” he says, then takes my hand and kisses my palm. “And we’re going to take Martin and the rest of them down.”

“Damn right, we are.”

“Come on, then,” Noah says, and Ash and I go sit with him at the table. I take my phone out and scan the code. A moment later, a site pops up. It flashes an animated graphic of fire from which a newly forged sword emerges. Then the words: Remember the rules.

Those words fade, and others pop up: Beware the razor’s edge.

I must make a sound, because both Ash and Noah look at me, brows furrowed.

“Baby,” Ash says, tucking my hair behind my ear. “You’ve gone completely pale. What is it?”

But I can’t answer. Right now, I can barely stand.

“Bree.” I hear the rising anxiety in his voice. “Bree, talk to me.”

Somehow, I manage to form words. “It’s a quote,” I say. “From Reveries.” I look between the two of them, their expressions making clear they don’t understand. “My book. “They’re quoting my book.”

“Assholes,” Ash whispers, his arm tightening around me as the quote disappears and transfer instructions pop up. “They just had to twist the knife. Are you okay?”

I nod, numb, as Noah starts working his magic. Ash kisses my cheek, then does whatever one does to set up a transfer of three million dollars from one account to the other.

But it’s not necessary anymore. I’m certain I know where that money is going. All we’re doing now is proving it.

As I hug myself, he looks to Noah. “Ready?”