Page 57 of Stroke of Shadows

“Ah, so you’re only friends with me because of my money?” Wyatt shot him a side eye.

“Of course.” Sythe shrugged, his smile teasing. “Why else would I be here?”

Wyatt’s laughter echoed around them. “Do you know you’re the only person who wanted to be my friend without knowing I was rich?” He turned, the dashboard casting a harsh blue light across his face. “One would say that’s suspicious.”

“Said like a true rich kid.” Sythe turned off the car, leaving them in almost pitch black as the headlights faded. “Is this the reason you wanted to arrive early?”

“Shut up for a minute and listen.” Wyatt shook his head. “Even George, a friend I’ve known since school, was only with me for the money. He left as soon as things got tough, but you stayed with me even after I got fucking stabbed. We’d known each other for a short time and yet you risked yourself to help. That’s some fucking loyalty, man.”

Agitation settled in Sythe’s chest, but he didn’t let it show. “Loyalty’s earned. You earned mine pretty quickly when I realised we had the same values. You realise when you come from nothing that money’s never mattered, only actions.”

Wyatt met his eyes, the silence strange between them. “You’re something else, Sy,” he finally said.

Without another word, they both exited the car, the wind bitter and salty as it whipped like a violent omen around them. Pulling his jacket tighter around himself, Sythe gestured for Wyatt to lead the way.

He was frustrated with himself. Wyatt should never have been able to pick up on his sour mood. It had been a week since he’d last seen Harper, and the days seemed to stretch into a boring blur. Until tonight. She’d looked… fucking beautiful. At first, when he was called into Angel’s office, he thought he’d fucked up, and that getting closer to Harper had compromised everything.

He’d pretty much jumped at the chance to be her security for a few hours, even though he knew he should keep his distance. He wanted to think it was because it got him closer to Angel, but he knew it was because of her. He wanted to push. See how far he could go until he received another real, genuine response.

No woman had ever had this effect. A longing to catch a glimpse. To hear her laugh, or to see her true smile beneath the practised one.

It was fucking pathetic, and all his own fault.

He shouldn’t have kissed her, because now he’d had another taste, it was becoming harder to remember the reasons why he should stay away. She’d melted so effortlessly beneath him, even if he felt her fear and anger in the way she held herself. There was more to his little Starlight than she was sharing, and he ached to find out what.

She was more than a simple distraction, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

‘As if this could ever be real.’

Her words echoed, guilt twisting his gut into knots. Of course, it could never be real. He wasn’t real, even if he kept his lies as close to the truth as possible.

“So, do you usually deal with deliveries at one in the morning?” Sythe asked casually. Even with Harper so prominent in his thoughts, his job had to come first. His priority was his brothers. His family. Not the woman he could never have.

“You do when you transport the stuff we do.” Wyatt smirked, the moon’s glow bouncing off his too-white teeth as he guided them through the maze of sky-high stacked containers. “This is how my family has maintained our wealth over the last two centuries.”

A small team of men appeared in the distance, their voices kept to low murmurs that barely registered to Sythe’s improved hearing. They straightened when they noticed Wyatt, moving to all stand in a single-file line. There was little light between the containers, the beams barely able to break through the darkness in between. If it wasn’t for the moon and the small torches, the majority of the terminal would be in pitch black.

The man who stood the furthest left stepped forward, his torch’s glare trembling slightly as it faced the ground. “Sir,” he said with a stiff nod. “I’m Maverick, the new dockmaster. I… I wasn’t told you’d be here tonight.”

“This is my fucking operation. Why wouldn’t I be here?” Wyatt’s smile was harsh. “Update me on the containers. Any issues so far?”

“Yes, of course.” Maverick flustered. “We’ve confirmed the first two containers were untampered and have already been moved.” Moving his torch, he scanned the paperwork in his other hand. “This is the last on the schedule until next quarter.”

He swung the small beam of light, and Sythe froze on the spot. He swore something glinted between one of the slim gaps.

Reaching out, he gripped Wyatt’s shoulder, stopping him from following the men. “Something’s wrong.” Sythe carefully scanned the darkness, unease making his beast tense.

Wyatt stiffened at his tone. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Sythe leaned closer. “We need to leave.”

“Why? We found the rat and everything’s going as expected.” Wyatt shoved Sythe back. “Don’t be a pussy.”

A loud clang, one of the chains holding the container closed dropping heavily to the concrete. The metal wheezed as it opened, followed by a rush of hushed whimpers and cries. Sythe didn’t have to see inside to know what the container had been transporting. He could smell it.

Piss. Shit. Death.

People.

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