Page 58 of Cyclone

The damn thing froze, the screen stuck between apps.

“Seriously?” I muttered, tapping it frantically.

Meanwhile, Austin disappeared around the corner.

Heart pounding, I grabbed my keys and slipped out of the truck, moving fast but casual, like I wasn’t totally tailing a suspected thief through a sketchy alley.

I rounded the corner just in time to see him handing a brand-new pair of hiking boots — still with the tags on — to a scruffy guy leaning against the dumpster.

The guy handed Austin some cash. Stupid kid.

They fist-bumped.

Transaction done.

I lifted my phone and finally snapped a few quick pictures.

Proof.

Clear as day.

Before they could spot me, I backed up, turned the corner, and practically sprinted back to my truck.

I slid behind the wheel,grinning at the same time, shaking my head. I hoped this wasn’t the kind of work I would always get.

I pulled up Owen’s number and shot him a text:

Got your proof. Clear hand-off in the alley behind Canyon Outfitters. Sending pics now.

I attached the photos and hit send, my heart pounding, still excited that I caught him on the first day. Now, I was ready for the next job.

Owen’s reply came fast:

Welcome to the team. Come by the office later.

I laughed out loud, the sound bubbling up like champagne. It didn’t take much to make me happy.

God, it felt good to be doing something that had nothing to do with running through a jungle.

To not just survive, but succeed at something.

As I pulled out of the lot, my phone buzzed again.

Cyclone this time.

Good morning, beautiful.

My heart melted right there in my chest.

I pulled over and texted back:

Miss you too.

I chuckled.

For once, the future didn’t feel scary.

It felt wide open.

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