Page 3 of Catch Me When I Fall

This all translated to Jeremy Jones being one of the most powerful men in the Midwest.

“Your email was…” I trailed off, looking for the right word. Truthfully, I didn’t know how to explain it. It was the last thing I’d expected to get. A year had passed since Oasis needed my help, and with their power, I figured they’d never need me again.

“I needed you to understand how serious this situation is,” he replied, sighing with exhaustion.

“Do you think the target is in danger?” I asked, looking down to the street below, watching the mid-day traffic.

“I don’t know.”

Interesting. “Has she received any threats?”

“She’s…” Jeremy trailed off before sighing. “Look, Mr. Grayson—Carrie has been through a lot this last year. Her life was turned upside down. She lost her husband. Anger and depression almost got to her.”

I blinked, looking at the city again. “You’re saying this woman is suicidal?” I asked, my voice level and void of any empathy.

I didn’t have any—especially not for a stranger.

This was just a job and, if I chose to take it, it needed to stay that way.

“Yes.” The word was filled with sadness and worry.

“I see.” I turned back to my desk, looking at the picture of her again, frustrated that I couldn’t see her face. I could tell a lot about a person with one look at their face, into their eyes.

“The only danger is herself,” he finally admitted.

I refrained from sighing. “This isn’t a job for me, Mr. Jones. You should leave it to the authorities,” I told him, ready to pull the phone from my ear and end in the call, leaving St. Louis and all the wild shit that came with it in the past.

“Please.”

I froze, my muscles tensing in a way they hadn’t in long, long time.

He was begging.

Jeremy Jones, the King of St. Louis himself, was begging.

My jaw tightened as I bent my head, eyes closing. The hand in my pocket balled into a fist as I heard my office door open once more. Snapping my head up, I found my team, all four of them, coming in silently, filing into my space as Jeremy lingered on the other end of the phone in silence, waiting for me to grant him some sort of twisted mercy.

“Why do you want me to find her?” I asked finally as my men watched me with guarded, cautious eyes.

“She’s family,” he said softly.

“I get that, Mr. Jones, but as I stated, the authorities would be better suited—”

“You’re the only person in the world who can,” he said, cutting me off with dark urgency in his voice.

I looked over to Hayes.

We’d spent years building what we had now, and the last thing I needed was for it to all go to shit over some woman who’d escaped from a mental health facility.

After I’d stared at Hayes for a few more moments, he gave me a single nod.

Fuck it all to hell.

“I’ll be St. Louis tomorrow morning.”

If Jeremy had given a sigh of relief, I didn’t hear it. All I got was, “Oasis. Ten AM.”

The call ended, and I set the phone back on its base before bracing my hands on the desk, staring down at the photo on my computer screen, frustrated I couldn’t see the woman’s face.

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