Chapter 8

Ember’s POV

The world went sideways.

For one dizzy heartbeat there was only air and rain and the sickening sense of falling. Then my feet hit the slope of wet gravel beyond the wall and slid out from under me. I tumbled down the embankment, stones scraping my palms, the ledger thudding against my ribs like a second heart.

I landed hard on my side at the edge of the road. The smell of tar and rain filled my nose. My ears rang. Somewhere behind me—on the other side of the wall—Aaron shouted my name, voice sharp enough to cut the storm.

Headlights seared my eyes. A black SUV hurtled toward me, tires spitting up water. For a split second I thought it was one of Aaron’s, that I’d leapt straight into his jaws. Then the vehicle braked hard, skidding to a stop so close I could see my reflection in its chrome grill.

The driver’s door flew open. A man jumped out, tall, lean, a hood shadowing his face. He scanned me once, quick, efficient, then jerked his head toward the passenger side. “Get in!” he barked over the rain. His accent was clipped, foreign.

I hesitated. The SUV smelled of leather and danger. Getting in could be another trap. Staying meant Aaron.

A gunshot cracked behind me, chips of stone spraying my hair. Decision made. I scrambled to my feet, yanked open the door and threw myself inside. The man slammed his own door, dropped the SUV into gear and floored the accelerator.

The engine roared. We shot forward, tires hissing on wet pavement. In the rear window I caught a flash of Aaron on the wall, gun raised, a dark silhouette against the lightning. Another shot; a hole bloomed in the rear glass like a black flower.

The driver swore under his breath and swerved. “You picked one hell of a night to run,” he muttered.

I clutched the seat belt. “Who are you?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His eyes—sharp, grey—flicked from the mirror to the road. “Friend of a friend,” he said finally. “Duke sent word you’d try tonight. I was waiting.”

Relief and suspicion tangled in my throat. “Duke’s alive?”

“I don’t know.” The man’s jaw tightened. “He just sent a message. Said ‘get her out.’ That’s all I got.”

Rain hammered the windshield. Wipers thumped. The road ahead stretched empty except for puddles gleaming under streetlights.

I sank back against the seat, every nerve buzzing. “Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere safe.”

I laughed, harsh and small. “There’s no such place.”

“Then somewhere less dangerous,” he said without humor.

We drove in silence for a while, the storm muffling everything but my heartbeat. My hands trembled in my lap. I forced them still.

“Your name?” I asked.

“Call me Kade.”

I studied him out of the corner of my eye. Early thirties maybe, dark stubble on a strong jaw, eyes that missed nothing. The kind of man who moved like he’d been trained to hurt people but didn’t advertise it.

“You work for Forrester?” I guessed.

One corner of his mouth twitched. “Sometimes. Tonight I’m working for you.”

“Why?”

“Because Aaron finally pissed off the wrong people,” Kade said. “And because someone like you deserves a shot.”

The words should have comforted me. Instead they felt like another layer of mystery. “You know who I am?”

“Enough.”

He flicked the headlights off as we approached an intersection, then turned onto a narrow service road lined with dripping trees. The SUV’s interior went shadowy. My pulse quickened.

“What is this?”

“Short cut. No cameras.”

I pressed my palm against the ledger under my shirt. “If this is a trick—”

“It’s not.” He glanced at me, expression unreadable. “But you need to understand something. Getting you out was the easy part. Keeping you out is harder. Aaron has reach. Money. People on payroll in every port and checkpoint. You’re not safe yet.”

“I know.” My voice came out steadier than I felt. “That’s why I took this.”

I pulled the ledger from my shirt and set it on the console between us. Even in the dim light the word INVESTORS glared like a neon sign.

Kade’s eyebrows rose. “Jesus. You actually got it.”

“Names. Dates. Preferences. Enough to bury him, maybe.”

He whistled softly. “Or enough to get you killed twice.”

“Then help me use it,” I said. “Find Forrester. Find anyone who hates Aaron more than they fear him.”

Kade’s fingers tightened on the wheel. “That’s the plan. But first we disappear. No phones, no cards, no patterns. You do exactly what I say until I say otherwise. Understand?”

I nodded.

The road narrowed to a tunnel of trees. Branches scraped the roof like claws. My skin prickled.

In the mirror a pair of headlights appeared far back, faint but steady.

Kade saw them too. His jaw flexed. “Hold on.”

He cut the lights completely and veered off the road onto a muddy track. The SUV bucked and swayed. Water splashed up from hidden ruts.

“Who is it?” I whispered.

“Could be nothing. Could be him.”

My stomach dropped.

We burst out of the trees into a clearing dominated by an abandoned warehouse—rusted corrugated walls, windows like broken teeth. Kade swung around the back, killed the engine and motioned me out.

“Move.”

Rain sheeted down as we ran to a side door hanging off its hinges. Inside smelled of oil and damp concrete. Shadows swallowed everything beyond a few feet.

Kade led me through a maze of crates to a small office with a single metal desk. He shut the door quietly and drew a pistol from under his jacket, checking the magazine with practiced movements.

“Stay here,” he said. “If I’m not back in five minutes—”

“No.” My voice was sharp. “You don’t get to dump me in another cage.”

“This isn’t a cage, it’s cover,” he snapped. Then, softer: “Please. I can’t protect you if you won’t listen.”

I swallowed and nodded.

He slipped out, leaving the door ajar.

The office felt like a cell anyway—peeling paint, a cracked window dripping rain, the hum of my own pulse. I pressed my back to the wall and tried to slow my breathing.

Somewhere outside, an engine idled.

I edged to the window and peeked through the grime. A black sedan had pulled up beside the warehouse. Three men climbed out—two in dark coats, one bareheaded despite the rain. Even at a distance I recognized the posture of Aaron’s guards.

They fanned out.

My heart slammed. Kade was just one man.

I looked at the ledger on the desk. Paper felt useless against guns. But it was all I had.

Footsteps echoed in the warehouse. Voices, low and tense.

A crash.

Then silence.

I couldn’t stay put. I cracked the office door and slipped into the main floor, moving between crates, ears straining.

Through a gap I saw Kade grappling with one of the men near the loading dock. The guard swung a knife; Kade blocked, twisted, sent him sprawling. Another guard raised a gun

I hurled a loose wrench I’d grabbed from the office. It clanged off a crate inches from the guard’s head. He spun toward me, cursing.

Kade seized the moment to slam him into a pillar. The gun skittered across the floor.

“Run, Ember!” he shouted.

I bolted toward the far exit. My shoes slipped on the wet concrete. Behind me footsteps pounded.

I burst out into the rain, sprinting toward the tree line. The warehouse loomed behind me like a dying beast.

Branches whipped my face. Mud sucked at my shoes. Somewhere a dog barked.

Then a hand clamped over my mouth from behind.

I thrashed, biting, clawing. The hand held firm but not cruel. A voice hissed in my ear: “Quiet if you want to live.”

I still went.

The man dragged me deeper into the trees. When we stopped he let me go and stepped back. I spun to face him.

Grey hair plastered to his skull. Pale blue eyes. The repairman.

“You” My voice shook. “You left me. You set me up.”

“I tried to warn you,” he said. “He was onto us. He killed my daughter for less. But you… you’re still alive.”

“Because Duke” My throat closed. “Is Duke?”

“I don’t know.” Pain flickered across his face. “I came back for you. There’s no time. Aaron’s men will burn this place down. You have to move now.”

I backed away. “Why should I trust you?”

“Because I’m the only one left who wants Aaron dead as much as you do.” His voice cracked. “And because I have a way.”

He pulled a small flash drive from his pocket and held it out. “Everything on the ledger. Copies. Names. Accounts offshore. But I can’t use it. They watch me. You… you could.”

I stared at it. Rain slid down my face, cold and hard. “Why give it to me?”

“Because you’re already a ghost,” he said simply. “They won’t expect you.”

Somewhere behind us gunfire erupted short, sharp bursts. Kade.

The repairman flinched. “We have to go. Now.”

He grabbed my arm and pulled me toward a narrow deer path winding deeper into the forest. My mind spun. Ledger in my shirt. Flash drive in my palm. Kade fights for his life back at the warehouse.

“I can’t leave him,” I said.

“If you go back, you both die.”

We stumbled through mud and roots. My lungs burned. My heart wanted to tear itself in two half running forward, half running back.

After what felt like forever the trees thinned. A small wooden jetty jutted out into a black, swollen river. A speedboat bobbed at the end, engine idling, a single light winking on its dash.

The repairman gestured. “This is your way out. Follow the river to the old dock by the refinery. Someone will meet you there Forrester’s people. After that you disappear.”

I stopped at the edge of the jetty, chest heaving. “Come with me.”

He shook his head. “They know me. I’d sink you before you left the shore.”

“Then what about Kade?”

His face twisted. “If he’s alive, he’ll find you. If not” He didn’t finish.

Another burst of gunfire echoed through the trees. Shouts.

I turned back the way we’d come. My legs wanted to run toward the noise.

The repairman gripped my shoulders. “Ember. Listen to me. You have one chance. That boat is it. Everything else is death.”

Tears mingled with rain on my cheeks. “I can’t leave him.”

“You must,” he said. “Because if Aaron gets that ledger back, all of this all of us was for nothing.”

The speedboat’s engine revved, impatient.

I stared at the dark water, at the flash drive in my hand, at the trees where Kade was still fighting. The choice sliced me open.

Then a shadow moved at the edge of the forest. A figure emerged—staggering, soaked in blood.

Kade.

He stumbled onto the jetty, eyes wild. “Go!” he gasped. “They’re right behind me!”

Behind him shapes moved among the trees—more of Aaron’s men, dark silhouettes with guns glinting in the rain.

“Boat!” Kade shouted, shoving me toward it. “Now!”

The repairman jumped aboard and reached for me. I hesitated one last heartbeat on the dock, looking back at Kade.

A gunshot cracked. He jerked, staggered, but didn’t fall.

Another shot. Closer.

He pushed me hard. “Go, Ember!”

I fell into the boat. The repairman gunned the engine. The boat lurched away from the dock just as bullets stitched the water around us.

Kade stood on the jetty, firing back with a pistol he must have taken from one of the guards. His figure blurred by rain and distance.

Then a flash of movement behind him Aaron himself stepping out of the trees, gun raised, expression calm.

“Kade!” I screamed.

The boat surged into the current. The jetty receded. Lightning flared, turning the world white.

I saw Aaron pull the trigger.

“And then the river curved, trees closing in, and both men vanished from view”