Page 98 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
Asher rises too, moving to intercept my pacing. His hands settle on my shoulders, grounding me. The truth of what we've discovered hangs heavy in the space between us.
This mission isn't just about stopping a trafficking ring anymore. It's about preventing more broken brothers, more shattered families.
"We're going to stop her," Asher says, voice filled with deadly promise.
"Yes," I agree, my hands covering his where they rest on my shoulders. "We are."
In the harsh emergency lighting, rain drumming against the windows and our shared sorrow filling the air, we hold each other in his living room.
The cracked photograph of Sarah watches over us from the coffee table—a reminder of what we've lost and what we refuse to lose again.
twenty-five
Asher
Icheck my watch. Thirteen minutes until we reach the Reyes family home. Traffic on the I-280 flows steadily as I scan the nearby cars. Black Audi two cars back, keeping a steady distance. Probably just a commuter, but I note the license plate, anyway. Old habits.
"You're doing it again." Vanessa plays with the hem of her dress. Her fingers haven't stopped moving since we left San Francisco.
"Doing what?"
"That thing where you're checking for escape routes and bad guys." She tucks a strand of pink-streaked hair behind her ear. "This is Daly City, not a war zone."
I adjust my grip on the steering wheel. "I can't just turn off how I think."
"My family is going to love that," she mutters, bouncing her knee rapidly. "Just... try not to look like you're planning a hit when my mom offers you lumpia."
The GPS shows a right turn ahead. I signal three seconds before turning.
"You sure about passing last night's discoveries to Cole instead of heading back to headquarters?" I ask, noting how she keeps checking her phone.
"I know it was the right call. Mom would've been crushed if I canceled again. Cole can continue looking into Tatiana's modeling agency while we're here." She trails off, not needing to finish the thought about Sarah.
"But?"
"But I should do something." Her words spill out faster. "Not eating dinner while women are being trafficked. What if the pattern I spotted is time-sensitive?"
I place my hand on her knee, stopping its bouncing. "Cole's is capable. Your discovery was important. One night won't change the outcome."
She places her hand over mine, taking a deep breath. "You're right. It's just hard to switch gears. My brain doesn't have an off switch."
"Neither does mine," I admit. "Different reasons."
"They're going to ask about everything," Vanessa warns. "Your job, your family, when we're having babies. Filipino families don't believe in boundaries. It's like being interrogated, except they feed you between questions."
Something hot and possessive flares in my chest. "Let them ask. I have nothing to hide about wanting you."
Her eyes widen. The bouncing knee stops momentarily. "Fuck. You can't say things like that in front of my aunties."
We turn onto a residential street lined with modest homes pressed close together. Cars crowd both sides. Parking will require strategy.
"There," Vanessa points. "The blue house with the Filipino flag in the window."
I count three escape routes, note the position of streetlights. But it's different this time. This isn't about mission security. Thisis about Vanessa. About entering territory I've never claimed before.
"How many people will be inside?" I ask, parallel parking with perfect precision.
"At least fifteen." She chews her bottom lip. "Maybe twenty."
