Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
The day of the auction was different. This day could bring the closure I needed. If Ruin was dead or locked up, I knew I would sleep easier for it.
Stupidly, I was up early and spent time flat-ironing my hair. I even put on makeup. Some part of me hoped to see Shawn, which is why I wore the heart-sleeved tee with jeans. Though I wasn’t on the takedown team, I’d managed to wrangle a position in the van as a watcher with the oversight team. I would be one of the eyes and ears, sending them information about things outside of their view through various cameras and drones. I grabbed my office FBI jacket, bundled it in my bag, and left for work.
The one concern had been if Ruin had someone on the inside. This was why the takedown team that had been assembled largely came from field offices in Wisconsin. Little happened there and the team was excited for action. Meetings had been held in a secure location outside of town. It was just my boss and I, working from my field office, who knew about the operation.
The disguised van drove slowly down a side road, its windows reflecting back the murky morning light. Its faded gray paint and mud-splattered tires, along with the name of a utility company, gave it an air of legitimacy. Me and a select few were in the back, hidden behind a curtain of black fabric. The air was heavy with apprehension as we passed several brick row houses.
Farther down the mixed-use area like where we’d found the kidnapped women, a ramshackle building with peeling blue paint loomed in the background like a bad omen. We all knew this was where we’d find parts of the human trafficking ring. The industrial building sat dormant under the guise of an auto body shop and all the secrets lurked beyond its walls. The stormy weather from the night before gave us much-needed cover, and we rolled closer to our destination before parallel parking in an open spot.
We spent the day testing cameras and comms, preparing what night would bring. There were a lot of checks and making sure personnel were in position. We sent up drones to do an overview. Because this wasn’t my normal gig, I’d been given a low-priority role. My camera angles that filled my screen faced away from the building and down the street.
Hours later, near go time, I noticed him. I might have done a double take before I made an excuse to leave the van. Something about feeling sick as I rushed out.
I ran like a crazy woman to intercept him. Lucky for me, night had fallen, and my shadow likely hadn’t been noticed by the men at the auto shop two blocks down the other way. I slipped between two parked cars to emerge in front of him on the sidewalk. I pushed him down a side street and into a pool of light from the lamppost above.
“You can’t,” I said, a little out of breath. “You can’t go. They’ll arrest you.”
I had done some research about Shawn Stanton and found what my brother said to be true. Pictures under the headlines matched my Shawn. The question was, why the alias? There were a few reasons. One of them could be, as Shawn suggested. He’d wanted to keep the bad guys away from his family. That didn’t explain how the Chicago PD had hired him. He had to have valid credentials under that name. Another reason could be he had legally changed his name to distance himself from his family. The only problem was that all the headlines suggested he was a bad man. And even though Shawn warned me he wasn’t good, I still didn’t believe it.
“I have to go,” he said. His eyes seemed tormented as we faced each other, still not touching.
Just then, the sky opened, and rain fell in a torrent.
I wrenched the shirt he wore and tugged him close. “You didn’t listen the last time and left me. I’m begging you to stay here. With me.” There was a declaration there he had to see.
He cupped my face as rain raced down, hiding my tears. “I’m doing this for you.”
“Stay for us,” I begged.
He dipped his head and kissed me. Hail could have come down and I wouldn’t have noticed. When our mouths separated and he looked like he wanted to say something, I said it for him. “I think I’m falling in love with you.” Falling and fallen. The difference between the two was semantics.
He touched his forehead to mine. “I know I’m in love with you.”
The words stunned me so much that when he let go and marched forward, I was frozen. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. But when I looked around, he was gone. I raced ahead but didn’t see him. I turned around in circles, searching.