Page 77 of Rescuing Ember

“I know how they’ve been tracking us.” I glance down at the worn sneakers on my feet, the ones I’ve had since this nightmare started.

“How?”

“It’s these damn shoes.”

“What do you mean by that?” His expression shifts instantly, sharpening.

“When they took me off the streets, these sneakers were the only thing I had left. When we reached the safe house, everything else was replaced except these. I initially didn’t think about it, but now… It makes sense. They must’ve planted a tracker in them. That’s how they’ve found us every time.”

“That makes sense.” His voice is low and calm, like a storm brewing under the surface.

His jaw tightens as he processes that, his eyes narrowing in thought. He leans back slightly, eyes scanning the room, always thinking.

“So,” I shift uncomfortably, rolling my shoulders as much as the Zip Ties allow. “There’s no way your team will find us now.”

“We have our ways.” His lips twitch, a faint, knowing smile playing there despite everything.

“That’s vague and not at all reassuring.” I raise an eyebrow.

“They’ll find us,” Blaze says, voice steady, confident. There’s no doubt in his voice, just that solid, unshakable certainty I’ve come to rely on. Even after everything, Blaze is still the one thing that makes me believe we’ll get through this.

Together.

“Guess I’ll take your word for it.” I glance toward the door and wonder what happens next. I shift in the chair, but there’s no comfortable position.

The door suddenly opens. A man walks in, and the air goes cold. He moves like a predator, every step calculated, but his eyes get me—gray and hard as steel, sizing us up like cattle at auction.

This has to be Damien Wolfe.

He’s tall and lean, wearing a suit that probably costs more than I’ll ever make in my entire life. His hair’s this salt-and-pepper deal, swept back all fancy. He could be some big-shot CEO or politician, but there’s something about him, something that makes my skin crawl—darkness, like looking into the eyes of a soulless shark.

“Well…” His voice is smooth as good whiskey, with just a hint of amusement. “I must say, you two have led us on quite the chase.”

He grabs a chair, sitting between us. His eyes linger on me, and something flickers in them.

Recognition?

What the hell?

“It’s been a long time, little flame,” he says softly. “You’ve grown.”

TWENTY-SIX

Ember

“How… How do you know me?”I go stiff as a board.

Wolfe’s smile is all teeth. “Oh, I never forget a face. Especially not one that cost me so much.” He turns to Blaze. “And you, Mr. Hawkins. The noble protector. Tell me, how does it feel to know you’ve failed?”

Blaze strains against his bonds, muscles taut, fury rolling off him in waves. His voice is a low, dangerous growl.

“If you hurt her, it’ll be the last thing you do.”

Wolfe doesn’t flinch. He raises a hand, slow and deliberate, as if calming a child throwing a tantrum.

“Now, now,” he says, his tone smooth, unbothered. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We have much to discuss.”

He leans back in his chair, eyes flicking between Blaze and me, calm and detached like he’s studying a pair of lab rats. His gaze lingers on me. I feel its weight, like a bug pinned under glass.

---