Chapter seven

Kamara

“No. This was a setup.”

My heart stuttered. “What do you mean setup?”

He ignored, moving quietly through the dark and around the stacked crates.

“Jace.” I repeated.“What do you mean setup?”

He finally looked at me. “They set me up. There’s nothing happening in the warehouse.”

He said more to himself than to me.

My mind was too much of a mess, hands trembling to even care to understand what he meant. I didn’t want anything to do with my fathers business. It was the one ‘stay away’ rule I obeyed.

“So, what do we do now?” I asked.

He turned to the opposite direction, the one by the door, searching for God Knows what.

“We wait.”

I blinked. “Wait? You’re serious?”

He checked his watch, then his phone. “The door was shut from the outside. Backup should be here first thing in the morning.”

“By tomorrow?” I stay dead at him. “There’s no way in hell I am going to stay here till tomorrow? I have school!”

He ignored my rant, going back to his phone to try again if he could pick up another signal.

I paced, dragging a hand through my face.. “Why would someone want to lock us in here? What type of enemies have my father gathered this time?”

I stopped my pacing, walking to him till I stood blocking his path.

“Do something. Call my father, it’s what you are good at, I can’t stay here.”

“With you shouting this much, I doubt even I can.”

I blinked, stunned at his comment. Since when did Jace respond to me?

I continued regardless. “What am i supposed to do? You dragged me to a part first and then get me locked up in some serial-killer-looking warehouse, and I’m supposed to just sit quietly?”

He didn’t bother responding this time. He just walked toward a stack of crates, gun still in his hand. The dim light caught the side of his face, the hard lines that never seemed to soften.

I exhaled hard, pacing. “This is insane. You can’t just—”

“Sit down, Kamara.”

His voice was low, but the kind that cut through air. My mouth shut instantly.

I hated that it worked.

He crouched near one of the sacks, brushed the dust off, and muttered, “Still sealed.”

“What’s in them?”

He gave me a look. “You don’t want to know.”

He stood, checking the shadows again. The silence between us felt heavy. Every sound — the hum of the lights, the creak of metal — echoed too loud.

I hugged myself, glancing around. “Do you ever get scared?”

He didn’t look at me. “No.”

I scoffed. “Right. Forgot. You’re allergic to feelings.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, the only sign he’d even heard me.

Minutes dragged. The light flickered again. Somewhere above us, something creaked then a bucket fell.

I flinched. “That was the wind, right?”

He didn’t answer. His gun came up slowly, eyes locked on the far end of the room.

“Jace—”

“Stay behind me.”

I obeyed. My heart dropped straight into my stomach.

The silence broke again, this time louder as another crashing sound came from the same direction.

He stepped forward, body between me and the sound. He pulled out his gun, pointing it to the direction of the sound. I stepped behind him immediately. “Is there someone here with us?” My throat went dry. “Please tell me that’s backup.”

He shook his head once.

A tiny sound broke the silence then from behind one of the crates, a small shadow darted out.

I gasped. “Oh my God—”

The beam of Jace’s flashlight caught it just as it scurried across the floor. A rat.

A freaking mouse.

My heart was still racing like I’d seen a ghost. I pressed a shaky hand against my chest. “Seriously?”

Jace lowered his gun, the faintest sigh leaving him. “You scream louder than the threat.”

Heat rushed to my face. “I thought it was a person!”

He didn’t answer, just gave me that look—flat, unreadable, like he couldn’t decide if I was ridiculous or exhausting.

I exhaled hard, forcing a laugh that sounded more nervous than amused. “A rat. Great. I’m officially losing it.”

Silence fell again. The kind that hummed beneath your skin. The faint drip of water echoed somewhere above, and I realized my hands were still shaking. My nerves were wrecked, but he was steady and completely calm even now. What kind of a robot was he?

It was only then I realized how close I was to him. My fingers were fisted in his shirt, knuckles white. I could feel the hard lines of his chest through the fabric, the solid, steady rhythm of his breathing against my palm.

Slowly, I looked up. He was already staring down at me. His face was half-shadowed, eyes dark, unreadable but there was something there that made my breath catch.

Neither of us moved.

The air between us shifted and charged in a way that had nothing to do with fear. My grip loosened, but I didn’t step back, not until he spoke again.

“Let go,”

I stumbled back. “Right.”

My fingers dropped from his shirt, but the heat from where I’d touched him didn’t fade.

He stepped back first, turning away, gun lowering to his side. “You’ll live,” he muttered.

I wasn’t so sure. My heart was still racing, but for a completely different reason now.

He moved toward the wall, flashlight beam cutting through the dark again, every step deliberate, silent. I sank onto one of the crates, arms wrapped around myself.

It was going to be a long night.