Chapter 5: Secret

We drove for hours. Cole's jaw was tight, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. Every few minutes he'd check the mirrors, check his phone, check me like he was making sure I was still there.

When he finally pulled over at a small motel in the middle of nowhere, the sun was coming up. He got us a room under a fake name. Cash. No ID needed.

Inside, he locked the door and pulled out his phone. I watched his face as he listened to Marcus. His expression shifted from hard to something darker. Angrier.

He hung up. "Your father's involved in campaign finance fraud. Embezzlement. Money laundering. Names that go high up. Really high up. When he tried to back out, they decided to use you. To keep him in line."

I couldn't breathe. "So they want me dead?"

"They want to keep him compliant. Either works."

I walked to the window. Looked out at the empty parking lot.

"How high up?" I whispered.

"Higher than we thought."

My phone had been off since we left the safe house. I turned it on. Forty-seven missed calls. Thirty-two text messages. One voicemail made my blood run cold.

My father's voice came through, shaking. "Son, I'm sorry. For everything. For dragging you into this. For being a coward. I made deals with the wrong people. I thought I could control it. I was wrong."

A gunshot. Then the line went dead.

Cole took the phone from my hand. His face went stone cold.

"We need to move. Now."

He grabbed a bag that was already packed. He'd known this was coming.

Cole pulled me close. "Whatever happens next. Whatever comes. I meant what I said. You're not a mistake. And I'm not losing you."

I kissed him hard and desperate.

"Don't say goodbye," I whispered.

"I'm not. But be ready. The next few days are going to be dangerous."

His phone vibrated. A text from an unknown number.

Cole read it and his face went blank.

"What?" I asked.

He showed me the phone. One sentence.

"Your bodyguard's been made. Where are you?"

We ran to the car. Cole drove fast, checking mirrors constantly. After two hours, he pulled off the main road onto a smaller highway. Trees on both sides. No towns.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Somewhere safe."

My phone buzzed. An email from Marcus.

Cole glanced over. "Don't open it."

But I already had.

There was no message. Just a photo. My father. Bound to a chair in a warehouse. And standing next to him, phone to his ear, was Marcus.

Smiling.

Cole saw it at the same time. His hands gripped the steering wheel like it might break.

"Marcus," I whispered.

"He set us up. The entire time."

Cole's phone rang. He answered. "Marcus."

I could hear Marcus's voice. Calm. Like he was talking about the weather.

"Cole. You should've stayed out of it."

"Where's the senator?"

"Safe. For now. Depends on whether you cooperate."

"What do you want?"

"Bring Ashton to the warehouse. Corner of Fifth and Industrial. You know it?"

"Yeah. I know it."

"Come alone. No cops. No backup. Or your girlfriend's father dies. Slowly."

The line went dead.

Cole's hands were shaking. I'd never seen him lose control like that.

"We're going," I said.

"No. We're not. We're getting backup. We're going to end this."

"My father will be dead by then."

"Your father's already dead unless he needs leverage. Which means he needs us. Which means we have time."

My phone buzzed. Another email. A video.

My father. Beaten. Bleeding. Tied to that chair.

"Son, do what they ask. Don't be brave. Just do what they ask and maybe you live."

The video cut out.

"Cole, we have to go."

"We're not walking into that trap."

But even as he said it, he was already turning the car around. Heading back toward the city. Toward the warehouse. Toward Marcus.

"Why would he do this?" I asked. "He's been your friend for years."

"Because money. Because power. Because people like Marcus only care about themselves."

We drove in silence. The city lights getting closer.

After an hour, Cole pulled over on a dark street a few blocks from the warehouse. He turned to me.

"When we get there, you stay behind me. You do exactly what I say."

"Yeah."

"If this goes bad, you run. You don't stop. You don't look back."

He checked his gun. Then he pulled out his phone and texted someone. "It's done. I'm going in."

The response came back instantly. "We've got your six. Good luck."

Cole looked at me. For the first time since we'd met, I saw the soldier. The man who'd lost everything. The man who had nothing left to lose.

"Let's go get your father," he said.

We got out of the car. The warehouse loomed ahead, dark and silent. Cole's hand found mine and held tight.

As we walked toward the entrance, toward Marcus, toward whatever came next, I realized something.

Cole wasn't scared anymore. Cole was something else entirely now.

Cole was ready to burn the world down.

And Marcus had no idea what was walking toward him.