Page 184 of Fractured Future
“How dare you accuse me of having false allegiances? Who do you think you are?”
“I’m protecting my team!”
Their shouting is penetrating my skull, creating a sharp throb. I shuffle away before it builds into a full-blown headache. Hard to avoid stress when you work with a gaggle of hot-headed assholes.
As Hyland and Axel move chest-to-chest to continue their screaming match, I take the opportunity to slip out of the room. I don’t care to see them call forensics to handle Perez’s body.
Sabre’s corridors and ceiling-height windows blur around me with each numb step I take. Stumbling in an indecipherable direction, I’m consumed by the riot of conflicting paths ahead that I have no idea how to choose between.
Think about home, Gracie.
We didn’t go through hell just to die now, did we?
I told that terrified little girl to think about her home. Her sisters. The cookies she’d soon taste again. And not only did I fail to give her that fantasy, I’m still fucking failing her.
A naïve part of me was actually stupid enough to believe that Perez would provide us with information. That somehow, he would’ve been able to tell me where Gracie ended up. No one else has a damn clue.
Now I’ll never know. The reason Gael’s web is so impenetrable is that nobody knows exactly where they fit in it. Every moving part remains blissfully ignorant while he collects profits from each distinct branch.
When the familiar walls of the training room settle around me, I realise where my heart has led me to. The boxing ring that’s become my home in recent weeks lies empty ahead of me.
Tearing my t-shirt over my head, I adjust my black sports bra then tighten my ponytail. In the corner behind the ring that we spar in, bags of various weights hang still.
The numbness perseveres until my unwrapped fists make contact with the blue bag. Thumbs tucked, knuckles firm, wrists tensed. Slipping into a fighting stance feels like crawling into bed after a long, exhausting day.
I batter the living daylights out of the bag until sweat coats every inch of my body. My ponytail sags, hanging over my sweat-slick shoulders and spine. The headache has receded as clarity takes centre stage.
This can’t be it.
Wewillfind Gael.
There’s no way that Luis has left the country without the grand prize. Me. He wouldn’t dare show his face in Mexico empty-handed. Especially not after losing his right-hand man and several others along the way.
When he crawls out of the woodwork, I’ll be ready. He’s our central line to the house of cards we need to dismantle. Find Luis, and we find a moving part. Perhaps a vital one. Maybe even Gracie.
Throat burning in protest, I reluctantly take a break to locate the water machine. When I turn around, I realise that I have an audience to my ruminations.
“How long have you been standing there?” I pant breathlessly.
Shrugging, Warner keeps his strong arms folded over his chest. “Long enough.”
“That’s fucking creepy.”
“You left.”
“Didn’t care to listen to those idiots squabble like children.”
“I’m sorry, Em. Emotions are high. I’ve sent them to cool off and deal with the crime scene now.”
Brushing past him, I kick off my shoes then snag a pair of boxing gloves hanging on the edge of the ring. Hopping up onto the platform, Warner’s stare follows my every step.
“Are we going to talk this out?” he calls out.
“Nope. I’m busy.”
“I know you’re disappointed, Em.”
Ignoring him, I hope that he’ll take the message and give up. I should know better by now.
