Chapter 7

The Watcher

Noah's POV

Liam looked exactly where I told him not to.

The moment his apartment lights silhouetted him against the window, I saw his head turn to the black SUV parked across the street. Damn it. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.

"They've made him," I muttered. From my position half a block away, I had a clear view of both Liam's building and the SUV. The tinted windows had been there for nearly twenty minutes before he got home.

They hadn't followed him from the charity scrimmage, but they'd arrived first. Waiting and watching. The anonymous file had reached him, and that changed everything.

I ended the call before Liam could ask another question. If he kept talking, they'd know we were connected, and that was the last thing I could allow.

I started the truck but didn't move, not yet.

Because, patience had kept Liam alive this long. And one reckless move could destroy months of work.

Across the street, the driver's door of the SUV opened again, and the man in the baseball cap climbed back inside. A second silhouette leaned forward from the passenger seat.

They were talking, probably deciding whether to go inside. My jaw clenched.

"No," I said. "Not tonight." I reached for the burner phone lying in the center console.

The cheap prepaid phone had one purpose, which was, no names and no contacts but only numbers committed to memory. I dialed, and the call connected after a single ring.

"Status?" A gravelly voice answered. "He has the package." A deep silence fell. And then—"So we're out of time."

"I know."

"You should've told him sooner."

"I couldn't."

"You've already broken protocol by contacting him."

"I also know."

"And now you're watching his apartment."

"I know."

The man sighed. "You've never been good at following orders, Noah."

"No."

"That's going to get both of you killed."

The line went dead. And I tossed the burner phone onto the passenger seat, gush! He wasn't wrong. Every rule I'd been given over the last year said the same thing.

Observe, never interfere, and never let Liam know he was being watched. I had broken every single one of those rules. First with the messages, and then the bridge.

Then defending him at the scrimmage, and now this. Every decision pulled me deeper into something I couldn't escape. I looked back at Liam's apartment. The lights suddenly went out, good.

At least he'd listened. The SUV remained motionless, too motionless and professional surveillance. They weren't impatient, but they were waiting for him to make a mistake.

I checked my mirrors before pulling away from the curb, not to Liam's building, but to the opposite end of the street. If they were watching him...they might be watching me too.

Three blocks later, headlights appeared behind my truck. Same distance and same speed. I turned right, and the headlights followed. I turned left, and still there. A slow smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"So that's how you want to play." I accelerated through a yellow light. The vehicle behind me followed without hesitation. Confirmation, I was being tailed, good. 

If they were chasing me...they weren't climbing the stairs to Liam's apartment.

I drove deeper into downtown, weaving through late-night traffic without attracting attention. Every few intersections I checked my mirrors.

Still there, the same black SUV but they had taken the bait. But that small victory didn't ease the knot in my chest, because Liam had the file now.

Which meant sooner or later...he is going to start asking questions I couldn't answer.

Questions about Raymond Holt, questions about his coach and questions about why I always seemed to know when he was in danger.

And the biggest question of all will be...how had I known his life was falling apart long before he did? I exhaled slowly.

"Not yet, Liam."

The truth would only paint a target on his back, until I knew who inside Frostford was feeding information to Holt...the fewer answers Liam had, the safer he'd be.

At least...that's what I kept telling myself.

My phone vibrated through the silence.

One message appeared, it's an unknown number.

Not the burner, but my personal phone. Only five words appeared on the screen.

“You chose the wrong side.” But before I could react, another message arrived.

This one included a photograph. It had been taken less than five minutes earlier.

It's a picture of Liam...standing inside his dark apartment...looking out the window.

Someone else had been watching him from much closer than the SUV. Someone was already inside his building.