Chapter six

Kamara

“Amy?”

Her grin widened, perfect teeth flashing under the chandelier light. “You remember me!”

Unfortunately.

I forced a small smile. “Hard to forget.”

I remembered her from years ago, one of those endless summers when Dad dumped me at one of his associates’ estates, claiming it was “for my safety.”

Amy had been there too. Her father was some business partner of his. I was thirteen, awkward, and alone; she was fifteen, confident, and already chasing every boy with a jawline.

Especially Jace.

I remembered her then, all giggles and fake innocence, hanging around him like a fly.

It was sickening to watch.

And Jace was never a fan.

“God, you haven’t changed a bit. Still so serious.” She turned to me, still smiling too wide. “Can you believe we used to fight over who got to sit next to him during dinner?”

I laughed awkwardly. “Yeah,” I said. “Those were great times.”

Amy laughed, clearly missing the sarcasm. “You always were the quiet one. Guess that hasn’t changed.”

“So,” I said sweetly, “what brings you to New Coast, Amy? Another one of your family’s charity vacations?”

Her smile thinned. “We moved back last month. Daddy’s doing business with your father again. You know how it is—deals, contracts, all that fun stuff.”

Of course he was. My father collected alliances like trading cards.

She leaned slightly closer to Jace, her. “I heard Jace is now your personal bodyguard. How lucky.” She bit her lip in a seductive—I think—way.

“I would do anything to have a younger body guard. Daddy keeps bringing old hags. Must be nice.”

I would take old hags any day than this stoic man. But I couldn’t say that out loud.

“I’m doing my job,” Jace said evenly.

Amy tilted her head, pretending not to notice his lack of warmth. “You always did take things too seriously. You should come by for dinner sometime. Daddy would love to see you.”

She gave another seductive smile that meant something more than just a dinner visit.

I nearly rolled my eyes so hard they’d fall out of my head.

“He’s busy,” I said before Jace could answer.

Amy turned to me, smiling brittlely. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

The air between us sharpened.

Jace stepped forward slightly,not enough to make a scene, but enough that his presence alone drew a few glances. “Amy,” he said quietly, “enjoy your evening.”

Her lips parted in protest, but he was already guiding me away, his hand at the small of my back, firm and final.

The second we were out of earshot, I pulled free. “Wow. She sure still has a thing for you. How cozy.”

He didn’t say a thing, still guiding me through the crowd of people.

“I mean I don’t even get what she’s all about. Sure you might not be as ugly but your arrogant attitude kills any form of attraction instantly.”

His jaw flexed and soon I realized I had said too much.

Shit Kamara.

I was waiting for him to say something a word or two like always but instead, he continued forward avoiding any form of eye contact.

Then his phone buzzed.

He glanced at it, the faintest shift in his expression. “We’re leaving,” he said.

“What? We just got here.”

He looked toward the far end of the room, and I followed his gaze. Across the marble floor, a man in a dark suit was standing by the exit, watching us. His face was unfamiliar, but the way he stood made something cold crawl up my spine.

Jace’s voice dropped. “Now, Kamara.”

He didn’t have to say it twice. Soon enough we found our way to the exit and straight into the car.

“Send back up now.” He ordered the driver who nodded immediately and left in another car.

We made our way to the other, sliding into the back seat. The car engine roared to life, jerking forward onto the empty main road.

My pulse kicked. “What the hell are you doing?”

He didn’t answer. His eyes were locked on the rearview mirror, his expression cold, sharp—like a blade about to strike.

“Jace,” I tried again, gripping the door handle as the car sped through the slick streets. “Where are we going? This isn’t the way home.”

He didn’t even look at me. Just one hand on the wheel, the other tapping rapidly across his phone screen.

“Send the backup to the warehouse,” he said into the device.“Now.”

Warehouse? Did my father have a warehouse here in the city?

I turned to him, heart thudding. “Jace, what warehouse? What’s happening?”

“Calm down.” His tone left no room for argument, but the way his jaw tightened told me even he wasn’t calm.

The road grew darker the farther we went. City lights disappeared, replaced by the cold, distant hum of the docks.

This definitely wasn’t the way home.

“Where are we going?” I asked, now panicking. “This isn’t the way home? What’s happening?”

He ignored

He finally turned sharply, tires crunching over gravel, and the headlights swept across a massive, half-abandoned building and entered into an empty street. One long building at the center of it all. Multiple trucks were parked in straight lines on opposite sides.

He parked with a sudden stop, engine still running.

“Stay here,” he said, already reaching for something underneath the car chair.

A pistol.

“What? No! You can’t expect me to stay here alone.”

He cussed. Then came down from the car rounding to the other door to my side.

He opened it. “Get down.”

Before I could protest again, he reached in and pulled me gently but firmly by the wrist. The cold night air hit my face as I stumbled out beside him.

“Stay close,” he muttered.

He pulled out a little remote button, pressing something and suddenly the door opened.

The place was huge—rows upon rows of stacked crates and sacks lined the walls, stretching so far back they disappeared into shadow. A single flickering light overhead threw long, broken shadows across the floor.

“What is this place?” I whispered.

Still, I spoke to deaf ears.

He stepped closer to the nearest stack of sacks, brushing his hand against the rough burlap surface. His jaw tensed.

“They’re all here,” he muttered under his breath.

He moved deeper into the rows, gun still raised.

After going through the sixth row, he dropped his gun then muttered something into his phone.

“Everything is strangely…intact.”

The line made a glitch sound, he spoke again. This time no response came at all.

Then a loud clang echoed through the warehouse.

I spun around. The heavy metal door we’d come through was sliding shut.

“Jace,” I breathed.

He turned just as the door slammed with a deafening thud. My throat tightened. “Tell me that was the wind.”

“No. This was a set up.”