Page 163 of Exposed

Chaos at the port.

Chaos in The Pink.

And chaos on the surveillance feed coming from Ozzy.

Too many things are happening at once. And too many people are talking at the same time. Cole is on speaker. Ozzy is on speaker. Tim is on speaker.

And I can’t focus on anything other than King.

Dex’s people at the port who were supposed to “collect their load” got spooked. When Tim and Cole sent in the raid teams, the cartel scattered. The moment they realized what was happening, Anderson Marshall called Dex.

Ozzy piped that call livethrough the van.

I grip Micah’s sleeve, crushing the cotton under my nails. “Oh my God, get him out!”

Even Micah, who is normally the calmest and coolest in the room, raises his voice. “He’s not fucking answering!”

“Stay where you are,” Tim orders over the speaker. “We’ve got units on the way, including the bomb squad. The raid team is standing by. But we can’t send them in now.”

“They locked him in the room,” Ozzy clips. “I lost sight of him. The moment Marshall made the call, he killed the network. I’ve lost all surveillance at The Pink.”

Tears stream down my cheeks and panic bubbles to new heights as a chorus of sirens whiz by our van down the street from the man I love.

“They’re not going to go in for him?” I cry. “They have to. Do something!”

“Fuck it,” Brax growls and gets up from his small stool. He makes his way to the driver’s seat. I hold onto the table when he puts it in gear and hits the gas.

“They’ve got evidence stored at The Pink,” Ozzy clips, relaying information as fast as he can. “Financial records. Sources. Clients. Locations of cash and dope houses. Everything that can put them away for decades is inside. They’re pulling the plug—or lighting the match. This is their last-resort scenario. They’re blowing the place up.”

Brax takes the corner on two wheels. When the parking lot of The Pink comes into view, it gives chaos new meaning. It’s swarming with police—patrol officers and the raid team. But everyone is giving the place a wide berth.

What they’re not doing is running in to save King.

A call comes in.

Micah jumps at it and puts it on speaker when Brax violently hits the brakes. “King, are you out?”

“No.” My face falls to my hands at his gruff tone. “They lockedthe office. It’s an interior room, and the door has been reinforced. It won’t budge when I kick the jamb.”

“Hold tight. We’re coming in.” Brax has made his way to the back of the van. He tosses a bulletproof vest to Micah before putting one on himself. He turns to me and I’ve never seen the man so serious. “Do not get out of the van. Do you understand me? No reason. No excuse. Stay here.”

“Dammit, Cruz. Can you never take an order? I need you to stay and coordinate,” Tim demands.

“No fucking way.” Micah holsters his gun on his hip, hands Brax a long gun, and takes one for himself. “We’re not sitting here for a front row seat when the place goes up in flames.”

I drag my hands through my hair and turn to the speaker phone. “Get out, King. You have to get out. Find a way.”

“Goldie?” King growls my name through the speakers. I jump when I hear a huge crash over the line, then he yells, “Dammit. I swear I’ll get out of here, baby.”

Micah climbs out of the back of the van after Brax. He turns to look at me one last time. “Stay here. King will kill us himself if anything happens to you.”

He slams the door on me.

I stumble to the table tripping over my heavy silk dress to where Brax and Micah sat. “Please, King. Please come back to me.”

“I’m coming, baby. I promise.”

Tears stream over my cheeks and down my face. “Of all the promises you’ve made, this is the one I need you to keep. I love you.”

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