“Thanks, Holden.”
Twenty-One
Maisy
Skipping out on my high school graduation ceremony to search for Fox—and most definitely pissing my parents off in the process if Holden can’t make up a good excuse for why I’m not there to receive my diploma—is all good in theory.
In practice?
I have no idea how I’ll find him. It’s hard enough to trail him whether he knows he’s being followed or not—he’s good at covering his tracks. If I hadn’t stowed away in his Charger, I never would have gotten the slip on him. My fingers tap out a random beat on the steering wheel of Holden’s car as I drive aimlessly for a few minutes through the rolling hills on the winding road at the base of the mountains.
You can figure this out. Think. Where would he go to look for the pieces of the puzzle he needs to prove his parents were murdered?
Nexus Lab. It’s the best I can start with for now, considering what Fox showed me in his garage when we were kids.
On my way to the pharmaceutical company where Mom now holds the highest position of power, my phone dings with a text notification. The bluetooth connection shows it’s from an unknown number on the console screen in the dashboard. My brow furrows. Maybe it’s the fact I know Fox is trying to prove his family was murdered, or maybe it’s the adrenaline rush still buzzing from making a decision for myself to leave my graduation ceremony, but a random text from an unknown number has my stomach rippling with suspicion.
Once I reach a red light, I snag my phone from the cup holder and check it.
Unknown: 1207 Rolling Rock Drive, Ridgeview, Colorado 80304
“Huh.”
The address isn’t for Nexus Lab. It’s the opposite direction, on the other side of town near the shipping district full of warehouses and not much else. Is this Fox’s number? It has to be. I suck in a breath, the horrible thought crossing my mind that he could be in trouble and this is his way of asking for my help.
As I input the address to the GPS feature on Holden’s car, a fierce determination settles in my shoulders. I’m coming, Fox.
The first thing I notice when I arrive is that I don’t see his Charger or his motorcycle. But an SUV that looks just like the one that tailed us the day Fox met with Lana is here, along with a whole matching fleet.
I hope Fox is the one who found them instead of the other way around since they didn’t seem all that open to a friendly chat when they tried to run us off the road. But I have no clue how he managed to locate these guys when I didn’t see any identifiable plates in the chase. I pull the car into an open spot and look down at the outfit I’m wearing—another one of Mom’s designer picks, paired with my lowkey rebellious disregard for wearing underwear or a bra.
“Just gonna roll with it and hope for the best,” I mutter as I leave the car.
The warehouse is isolated on a no outlet lane with no others nearby. I don’t come to this part of town often, but I follow the row of SUVs around the corner. An eighteen wheeler is backed up to an open bay door and I catch sight of Fox. My steps falter as I head for him and the man with a clipboard he’s talking to.
Always aware of everything, he spots me before I even reach them and his eyes tighten at the corners. Hot and cold tingles run across my skin and I suppress a shudder from the intensity in his gaze.
He’s not wearing his usual leather jacket, ripped black jeans, or the heavy combat boots. Instead, he’s dressed in a sharp suit and it’s actually pretty distracting because he looks hot. Warmth pools low in my stomach, and I can’t decide if I prefer him rugged and rough, or clean cut with the sinful edge lurking beneath his hard blue eyes.
I glance between him and the warehouse employee, plastering on my brightest smile. The older guy seems wary of me despite my nice dress, studying me with a small frown as I stick my hand out. This isn’t my world at all, but I’m not letting that stop me from getting sucked in if it’s part of helping prove the Wilders were murdered.
“Hey! I’m M—”
Fox sucks in a breath and takes a small step forward. It’s a subtle move, but I catch it and correct myself.
“Millie. Intern,” I add when I spy the Nexus Lab ID badge clipped to his jacket. The guy with the clipboard raises a brow. I gesture toward Fox with my thumb. “Sorry I’m late. They keep sending me for coffee runs when I’m supposed to be assigned to his side to learn about the department.”
Fox relaxes slightly, but is still wound tight. “Right. I forgot to mention her when I called to arrange our meeting.” He pauses and shoots me an assessing glance that seems to go straight to my soul. “She’s new to all this.”
I almost laugh, but stop myself, keeping my friendly smile in place as I sink into the role of eager intern. The clipboard guy shakes my hand, then strokes the trimmed stubble growing around his mouth.
“You were saying,” he prompts.
“The higher ups are looking to double check and tighten communication between departments,” Fox says. “I’m here to audit that and confirm the shipments through each distribution network.”
While they talk, I let half of my attention drift around the warehouse. There’s not much to see. Only a few employees mill around packing boxes and transporting them on forklifts into the truck waiting at the bay door. The logo for Nexus Lab is all o
ver the place and I realize this is a shipping warehouse for the company’s manufactured product. This is the first time I’ve ever been to one of the other sites of the company. Usually I only go right to Mom’s corner office at the sleek building nestled at the base of the mountains, but something nags at me as I take everything in.