Page 3 of Rescuing Ember

“You should have minded your own business.”

Pain explodes in the back of my head, a blinding white light fills my vision. I feel myself falling, my grip on Aria’s arm slipping away.

The last thing I see before the darkness takes me is the door of the van slamming shut, and then I’m gone, swallowed up by the void.

TWO

Blaze

I burn my pent-up aggression,pummeling a punching bag in the gym, when my phone rings. Sweat stings my eyes, and my muscles burn with exertion. The rhythmic thud of fists against leather drowns out the world, leaving only the pounding of my heart and the whisper of ghosts I can’t quite silence.

The phone’s shrill cry shatters my focus. I pause, chest heaving, and wipe the sweat from my brow before answering.

“Blaze,” I answer, my voice clipped and to the point. The name sits uneasily, a reminder of a past I can’t escape.

“It’s Jennifer.” My team leader’s voice mirrors my own—all business. “Get to the briefing room, STAT. We’ve got a situation—a high-profile kidnapping. The client is Marcus Holbrook.”

Ice replaces the fire in my veins. Marcus Holbrook, billionaire and investment banker extraordinaire. Even in our world of wealth and power, that name carries weight.

I don’t bother with questions. There’s no time. I grab my gear, the familiar weight settling against my skin like armor.

The halls of Guardian HRS blur as I stride through them. Tension hangs thick in the air, a living thing with claws andteeth. Other operators nod grimly as I pass, their eyes holding respect and something darker.

Whatever this is, it’s big.

I push open the door to the briefing room, and my eyes immediately land on a familiar face. Holbrook paces the room like a caged animal. His usual smooth confidence is gone, replaced by raw, palpable fear.

Hostage situations are our bread and butter, but the stakes skyrocket when it’s a high-profile target.

More eyes watching.

More pressure.

More ways for things to go sideways.

CJ, our resident people person, is already speaking with our newest client. His voice, usually light and easy, carries an edge of urgency.

“Mr. Holbrook, walk us through it again.”

“Again?” Holbrook runs a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, leaving it standing on end. His face is etched with worry, years added in mere hours. “She was on her way home from a charity event. Never made it home. I wouldn’t be here if I knew more. She’s gone. My little girl is gone.”

His voice cracks on the last words, and I see past the tailored suit and polished veneer. He’s just a father, terrified for his child.

CJ nods with sympathy, then turns to Jennifer. “Any word from local PD on the abduction site?”

Jennifer steps forward, her expression grave. The fluorescent lights illuminate her flawless ebony skin, casting a soft glow on her tightly coiled ringlets. Her beauty is striking, but the intensity in her dark eyes is what commands attention.

“Police reports just came in.” Her voice is rich, melodious, yet authoritative. “The abduction happened on 5th and Madison. They’re canvassing for witnesses and security footage now.”

CJ turns back to Holbrook. “Mr. Holbrook, has there been any contact from the kidnappers? Any demands?”

Jennifer interjects, her brow furrowing slightly. “Nothing yet. It’s been radio silence since the abduction. We’re monitoring all channels, but so far, they’re ghosts.”

Holbrook’s shoulders slump further, desperation bleeding into every word. “You have to find her. I can’t… I can’t lose my little girl.”

The room falls silent, the weight of his plea hanging heavy in the air. I catch Jennifer’s eye, noting the determination that hardens her gaze. We both know the clock is ticking and every second counts.

“We’ve been monitoring the situation since it broke,” Mitzy speaks up. “The kidnappers have been ghosts so far. No demands, no contact. We’re contacting local businesses, hoping someone caught something on camera.”

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