Page 113 of Fractured Future
That budding feeling flourishes in the small gap between us again. The same feeling that took me by surprise before. It’s an illicit spark, tinged with longing for what can never be.
“I need to check in with Axel.” Trapping his bottom lip between his teeth, Warner steps back from me. “Try to get some more sleep.”
“Okay.” My voice comes out raspy.
“If you need me, just shout. I’ll be awake.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
“Goodnight, Em.”
With a final meaningful look, Warner picks up his hot chocolate and leaves the kitchen. I know they have a shared office on the far side of the penthouse for when he has to work from home.
The moment he disappears, the tension drains out of my body. I almost slump over on the countertop. A volatile concoction of unspoken need and confusion is sending me into a tailspin.
I must be losing my mind. There’s no way that Warner feels anything but duty towards me. Our friendship has always revolved around his love for Tom.
Taking my hot chocolate, I find my way back to the room he showed me into when we arrived. I know that Hyland is next door—I can hear his deep snoring from here.
With the door shut between me and what just unfolded, I slump against it. My bare-bones room feels lifeless without Warner in the doorway like an avenging angel, body taut and gun in hand.
He flew in here to save me from something unknown. Without a single beat of hesitation, Warner was willing to endanger himself if it meant getting to me when I needed him.
That knowledge sinks deep into my heart.
The heart that now holds a forbidden yearning.
A yearning for what it can’t have.
CHAPTER 15
AXEL
TWO YEARS – HAVE MERCY
Crouchedin the window of a barren, ten-floor building left derelict since the nineties, I peer into my sniper’s scope. Any minute now, the meeting should adjourn.
I’ve been scouting out the local haunt on the outskirts of London ever since I located it by sifting through thousands of hours of CCTV footage.
It took days of searching to identify a few of the players described to us. While our singing jailbird is terrible at giving directions, his intel is sound. The meeting between operatives is still taking place.
We’ve finally caught a break.
At fucking last.
“Well?” Warner prompts in my ear.
“No sign of them yet.”
“It’s been two hours. What could they possibly be discussing for that long?”
“You saw that listing on the dark web,” I murmur back. “Gael’s offering a hefty price for any information on Ember. He has to know that she’s back in the UK.”
The extortionate offer popped up while I was doing a routine search in a heavily-used forum last night, advertising all manner of illegal products. Drugs. Hitmen. Abuse material. Even people.
If there’s a demand, you’ll find it on the dark web. While it isn’t illegal to access that side of the internet using a Tor browser, it is challenging. The anonymity makes it a breeding ground for all things illicit.
“Did you tell Ember?”
