Undeterred, I pick up right where I left off—listing, with renewed enthusiasm, all the reasons I’d make an excellent sidekick. Possibly even the best he’s ever had.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he says, crossing the street toward his Mini—still the most out-of-place car on the road. “We’re not a team. You’re not my sidekick. I’ll protect you from Manticore as best I can, but there are no guarantees. This isn’t some ride-or-die story. The second you’re out of danger, we’re done. No dramatic sunset. NoGod’s good work. Just… done. Got it?”
“Relax,” I shoot back. “You’re not my type anyway.”
Lie.
He gives a curt nod. “As long as we’re clear.”
I mimic his expression with theatrical precision—childish, sure, but I need something to cover the bruise his words leave behind. There’s nothing quite like a hot guy spelling it out; you’re not the one.
Honestly, if Manticore ever did take me, they’d probably regret it. I’d tank their value system. Sell me under ‘damaged goods’—clearance aisle, no refunds.
16
Cam
What the hell have I agreed to?
She’s parading through my house like she owns it—touching everything I specifically told her not to. And that damn cat? He’s made the couch his kingdom and is now systematically shredding the armrest like it’s personal.
At this rate, I’m going to need child locks. Or maybe an exorcist.
Talia leans against the doorway of my office, arms crossed and eyes sharp. She’s in full lecture mode, voice like a whip.
“We thought you were dead. You realise that? No check-in. No message. Nothing.”
“I was a little preoccupied,” I mutter, attention drifting back to the security monitors—just in time to catch Nell rearranging my kitchen cupboards with zero shame. Boomerang is licking himself on the counter like a smug little tyrant.
“That girl?” Talia rounds the desk, peering over my shoulder. “Sheheld you hostage?” Her brows lift as Nell fumbles a can, sending it rolling across the floor with a metallic thunk.
“I think you’re losing your touch, old man,” she smirks, that razor-edged grin of hers digging deep.
“Not you too,” I grunt, scrubbing my face, almost forgetting about the bruise that acts as a burning reminder of how this girl managed to subdue me.
“Well, to catch you up on what you missed during your… time away. Operational patterns are holding. She’s next on the target list. I’ve assigned a couple operators to track the details—we’ll update as soon as we establish a window. Now that you’re confirmed active, I’ll loop back in once we have solid intel. I should be able to make contact within the next seventy-two hours, give or take. The priority is containment—keep her locked down and off radar until we move. Unless, of course, we can bait her?”
As tempting as it is to walk away, I can’t risk her being taken. Not like the others.
And the crazy part? After two days of being tied to a chair, I actually feel like I owe her something. Maybe it’s guilt. Maybe it’s the concussion talking. But there’s something about her I can’t quite shake—something that makes me want to keep her safe.
“Let’s simplify this,” Talia continues. “If they’re going to look for her, better they look where we decide. Set the routine. Set the trap. Where’s she been living?”
“About ten minutes out,” comes my reply.
If we’re aiming for a clean extraction, predictability is leverage. And like it or not, she might be more useful to the op than she realises. Not to mention, she owes me a solid—preferably one that balances out the part where she knocked me out cold.
“I’ll set her up next door,” I decide, voice steady. “She can use the tunnel if she needs to move discreetly. Also, can you get one of the operators to temporarily assign the safe house under her name? Just enough to make it look authentic. I don’t know how deep they’ve dug on her in the last forty-eight hours, and I’m not taking any chances.”
Everything’s moving fast now.
But so am I.
From the outside, my second property next door looks ordinary—just another house on a quiet street. But under the surface, it’s something else entirely. A ghost property. No title, no trail. Built to disappear and protect.
And in Nell’s case, a property that can be used to stage a life that we can tailor just for Manticore.
And right now, Nell needs both.
