Chapter-70

~MARLOWE~

The hours ticked by as I sat in Jess's embrace, the sobs turning into sniffs and eventually giving way to silence. His hand rubbed soothing circles on my back.

Finally, I pulled away, wiping my eyes with the tissue. "I'm sorry," I murmured. "I just—I didn't know where to go...what to do."

Jess offered a gentle smile. "You're always welcome here, Marlowe. You should know that by now."

“I know,” I murmured, thankful he was such a good friend.

As my words fell silent, we sat for a few moments, the only sound the occasional car passing by on the street below. I knew I should return to my own apartment, but Jess's place felt like a sanctuary, a place where the outside world didn't seem to matter.

But I knew the calm couldn't last forever. "What am I going to do?" I whispered, my voice hoarse from crying. My life was fucked up, and I was lost.

Jess leaned back on the couch cushions, his gaze serious. "You need to leave this fucking place, and start over where no one knows you."

My heart ached at the thought of leaving everything behind—Rook, my friends, my life. And then there was Torin. Despite his betrayal, I still loved him deeply.

I nodded. "I appreciate the shoulder, but I got this from here. You can't be involved any further. It's too dangerous."

He squeezed my hand. "Let me decide what's too fucking dangerous---"

The sound of tires screeching outside the apartment complex cut through his words.

Jess was on his feet in an instant, his hand already reaching for his gun as he hissed, "Stay here." Within seconds, he was gone, disappearing into the shadows of his apartment.

Cautiously, I peeked out the window, watching two men in suits, as their guns drawn, they approached the stairs leading to Jess's apartment. Slipping over to my purse, I grabbed my own gun. As I checked the chamber, I tried stilling my tremors. If Torin's uncle had sent these goons, then the USB was in play, and so was I.

Just as the first man reached the stairs, Jess stepped out of the shadows and fired. The sound was deafening, and the man stumbled back, falling down the steps. The second man spun around, firing wildly toward the apartment.

I dropped to the floor, watching in horror as bullets flew through the air, shattering glass and penetrating into the walls, before finally, the second man fell. Jess gave a curt nod. "We have to go. Now."

Without a word, I followed him.

~TORIN~

I watched the chaos unfold from a distance, my bike idling between my legs. The flames coming from the warehouse lit up the night-sky, but I felt no remorse for the body inside being consumed by the fire. It was done, and the mother fucker had deserved his death.

As I easily dismissed my uncle's life, my thoughts turned to Marlowe. I had played a dangerous game, yes. But the outcome had ensured her safety—even if it had meant losing her. I was ready to rest, but before I could, I knew I had one more matter to take care of…Lucien.

The fire grew, a beacon of destruction and I knew it was only a matter of time before the police and fire department arrived; we had to move.

Placing the toe of my boot on the shifter, I placed my bike in gear and Burdock and I began moving forward. In the distance I could already hear the wail of sirens approaching and I felt a smug satisfaction knowing the evidence of my uncle's crimes would soon be nothing but ash.

We turned a corner, and the adrenaline of the shootout began to wear off. The real USB was still in my pocket, a heavy burden that I was eager to unload. But first, I had to figure out who I could trust.

Marlowe was on my mind as we sped through the deserted streets. I knew she was hurt, but I couldn't let her know the depth of my deceit. The love I had for her was real, but the world we lived in didn't allow for simple truths.

Half an hour later, Burdock and I had separated. He'd gone back to the compound and I'd returned to my hideout. As I was grabbing a beer out of the small refrigerator I had set up, my phone vibrated in my pocket, Pulling it out, I peered at the screen. It was a text from an unknown number. "You've made quite the mess, Torin. Time to pay up." -Lucien.

I gritted my teeth, crushing the can in my fist. This wasn't the first time he'd played games with me, but it would be the last. I replied, "You want me, you'll have to come get me," and tossed the phone onto the counter.

With a sigh, I leaned against the kitchen island, the coldness of the metal seeping into my skin. The room was a mess of half-eaten takeout containers and dirty dishes. My eyes fell on the USB stick poking out of my pocket, a symbol of the power and danger that had ruled my life for too long. I needed to decide what to do with it, but first, I had to figure out what game Lucien was playing.

I knew he was watching me, waiting for his next move. I couldn't ignore his message. Lucien still had my uncle's resources at his disposal and he wasn't going to let me go that easily. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. The USB was the key to everything, but it was also the bullseye on my back. If he found out I still had it, he would stop at nothing to get it. And that included going after Marlowe again.

I had to find a way to use it to my advantage—to get rid of him permanently. I pulled out the USB and stared at it, feeling the weight of its contents. It was all I had left of my old life, a twisted reminder of the man I had been forced to become.

The sirens grew louder, the sound of approaching justice, and I knew I had to get moving. I had to get the USB to someone who could handle it, someone who could bring down the entire operation without getting themselves killed in the process. And that meant going to the last person I wanted to deal with—Detective Casey.

How could I play this? I wondered as I made my way out of the building and toward my bike. I needed Casey to believe in me, and that I was on the level with this shit, and that I was willing to cooperate—within reason. But Casey was no fool. If she smelled a rat, she'd shoot first and ask questions later.

The wind was cold on my face as I sped through the city, weaving through the streets with an ease that came from years of practice. The USB felt like a hot coal in my pocket, burning a hole through my resolve. It was time to face the music.

I pulled up outside the precinct and parked my bike, the engine rumbling to a halt. The night was alive with flashing lights and the murmur of cops discussing the warehouse fire. I knew I had to act fast before any of them put two and two together.

As I strode into the station, the stale scent of coffee and paperwork hit me, a stark contrast to the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. The desk sergeant looked up, eyes narrowing when he recognized me. "Torin," he grunted. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to Casey," I said, not bothering to sugarcoat it. "It's urgent."

The sergeant's expression soured, but he knew better than to argue with me. He picked up the phone and dialed. "Casey, you got a live one for you," he said, his voice gruff. "There's a biker here with a story he says you'll want to hear."