Chapter 143
-Hailey-
Logan turned his body just enough to keep me in his periphery while he pretended to listen to Ledger prattle on And every word from Ledger was a nail in my coffin.
They were building a fortress to keep Anatoly out, but everything they were doing would only make it harder for me to escape unnoticed. Unfollowed
The main door creaked open, cutting through my mental spiral. A prospect stuck his head in. His eyes scanned the room looking for Talon, but they landed on Logan. “Uh, Officer Andrews is here. At the gate.
The air in the room got even thinner. All the murmuring stopped. People set down their glasses and bottles, hands moving to their pieces.
“It’s alright, boys” Logan pushed away from the bar, standing up straighter. “Let her in”
The prospect vanished. A minute later, the door opened again and Sam stepped through
She was wearing her uniform this time. And the sight of it – the creases in her trousers, the Kevlar vest, the gun on her hip – was a dose of cold reality. She looked tired but sharp as her eyes scanned the room, taking in every face, every weapon
Her gaze landed on me, stayed for a fraction of a second too long, then moved to Logan
“Nash,” she said. Her voice was calm and professional
“Andrews.” Logan’s reply was a low grunt. He didn’t move to greet her. He was a brick wall. “To what do we owe the honor? You bring us more intel on Anatoly?”
Sam’s eyes flicked back to me. “I need to speak with Hailey. It’s important. Preferably alone.”
My heart leaped into my throat. There was no way he’d allow it. Not when she framed it like that.
Logan’s smile was cold. “Anything you gotta say to my old lady, you can say in front of me.”
“It’s a private matter,” Sam insisted carefully. She was walking a tightrope and she knew it.
“She don’t have private matters that don’t involve me,” Logan shot back, his voice dropping into that dangerous register that promised violence. “Not anymore. So whatever it is, spit it out. Or get the fuck out.”
The standoff continued, silent and electric. I could see the calculation in Sam’s eyes. Her plan wasn’t working out the way she’d hoped.
Then, with a sigh that seemed to drain the fight out of her shoulders, she nodded.
“Fine.” She walked through the silent room toward the bar. Her boots echoed on the floor. She pulled out a stool next to me and sat down. “Whiskey, please. Neat.”
Trina was behind the bar. She poured the drink and slid it over.
Sam didn’t touch it. She looked from Logan to Talon, who had emerged from his office and was leaning against the doorframe.
“Since the gang’s all here,” Sam said. Her voice carried now, meant for the whole room. “I might as well give you an update on Anatoly. Since you’re clearly a person of interest in his… situation”
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9:16 pm P p p D
Chapter 143
Lngan leaned on the bar “What updates
“I’ve managed to put a fuller picture together. It helped that Interpot finally coughed up some flies. Fe’s former Spermaz Ruccian special forces, Counter–intelligence. He went private, and some of his clients are.. let’s fist say they make your average drug lord look like a burger–flipper”
She took a small sip of the whiskey. “He doesn’t just move product. He moves entire organizations. He identifies a weak sp a territory, a supply line, a club – and he dismantles it from the inside. Then he installs his own people and folds the remains into his network
She stared directly at Logan as she continued. “He’s not here to sell meth. He’s here to own Riverstone. And you’re all that’s standing in his way.”
The silence was deafening.
“Tell us something we don’t know,” Logan muttered.
“His methods are… thorough,” Sam continued, ignoring him. “Psychological warfare is his specialry. He isolates his targets He uses their loved ones as leverage. He makes them doubt everything and everyone. He’s patient. He’ll spend months setting the stage. So, the graffiti? The taunts? That’s just him warming up.”
She looked directly at me then, glaring a warning at me that I felt in my bones. “He enjoys it. The fear. The chaos. It’s a game to him. And he always wins.”
I let out a ragged breath. I knew she was trying to warn me, but there was no turning back now.
Sam polished off her whiskey and set the glass down. “And that brings me to the other thing I came here for.”
She looked at me again, and this time her expression was almost apologetic. “I wanted to tell you this in private, Haley. It involves your previous statement about Detective Becker. But since that’s not an option…”
She turned her attention back to Logan and Talon. “Internal Affairs has requested Hailey’s presence at Becker’s trial”
A murmur rippled through the room. Logan’s scowl grew bigger.
“There’s no way he’ll be getting out of this,” she continued. “But they want Hailey to address the judge and jury, if she’s up for it. It’ll increase his sentence.”
Sam held my gaze for a few seconds, and her eyes were saying what her mouth couldn’t. The look in them told me, somehow, that this wasn’t a complete loss.
It was a plan B, already in motion.
Sam pushed her empty glass away and pushed her barstool out. It echoed through the tense quiet. “That’s all I’ve got.”
She stood up. Her eyes found mine again, and she gave me a small nod
She took my hand in both of hers. Her grip was firm Consoling.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t speak to you alone,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. It was a perfect performance. “If you need anything, you have my number. Call me. Day or night.”
Her eyes were locked with mine. And as she released my hand, she left a small, folded square of paper pressed into my palm
The transfer was so smooth, like a magic trick. My fingers instinctively curled around it, hiding it from view. It teh like I was holding a live coal.
24
Chapter 143
I didn’t dare look down. I just gave a weak, numb nod. “I will. Thank you, Sam.”
She held my gaze for another second. Then she turned, nodded once to Talon and Logan, and walked out. The door swung shut behind her and one of the prospects locked it, sealing us back into our cage.
The spell broke, Conversations resumed, buzzing about both Anatoly and Becker. I slowly brought my hand up to rub my forehead, like I was overwhelmed.
At the same time, I slipped my other hand into the front pocket of my jeans and deposited the note.
1 let my hand fall back to the bar top and risked a glance at Logan. He was watching the door, probably processing Sarn’s intel. He hadn’t seen a thing. The relief was so potent it made me dizzy.
After about twenty minutes of trying to sit still, feeling the folded corners of the paper dig into my thigh, I couldn’t take it anymore. I touched Logan’s arm. “I need to pee.”
His eyes slid toward me. “Okay.”
He walked beside me, a half–step behind, herding me through the clusters of men toward the back hallway where the bathrooms were.
It was a walk of shame without the crime. Every set of eyes we passed knew what this was. The VP escorting his old lady to take a piss because he couldn’t trust her alone for thirty seconds.
He pushed the door to the ladies‘ room open and held it for me. The room was empty, thank god.
“I’ll be here,” he said. He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, folding his arms over his chest. His posture was relaxed but his eyes were glued to me.
This was all the confirmation I needed, really. He was following me into the women’s restroom now. So it had to have been him who found Anatoly’s camera. And somehow, he had to have known I knew about it.
I slipped into the furthest stall and closed the door, fumbling with the latch. It was a pathetic barrier that offered exactly zero privacy, I could see the shadows of his boots on the floor under the door.
My hands were shaking. I had to move fast. As I sat down to pee, I pulled the note from my pocket. My heart was hammering so hard I was sure he could hear it.
I unfolded it with agonizing slowness, trying to mute the crinkle of the paper. The note was small, a torn piece of paper from a yellow legal pad. It said:
*The Becker thing was a backup plan. They don’t need you to testify. There was a message on my answering machine at the station this morning. Untraceable number. Heavy accent.
“Hello, Ms. Conway … Midnight. Ten. Two–Five.”
If this means what I think it does, I’ll see you then. Be ready.
Midnight. Ten. Two–five.
The numbers swam in my vision. Ten, two, five. It wasn’t a time… it wasn’t a code.
It was a date. October twenty–fifth. And today was the twenty–third.
So, tomorrow night… at midnight.
Anatoly was dictating the terms, and he’d involved Sam directly. He knew she’d bring it to me. The fact that he didn’t just
3/4
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“Bad better? Logan seked, holding the dostopen for me
“Not really” 1 murmured, stepping around him and making my way back to the bar.
A
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
