Chapter 20 THE GHOST OF A JOB
"He was in London. That is what the paper says, but my soul knows better."
I was sitting in the dark of the loft, the only light coming from the blue glow of my phone screen. I had been staring at the digital files Leo had sent until the words started to swim before my eyes.
London. Flight manifests. Hotel check-ins and witness statements. A perfect, iron-clad paper trail that put Kanan Maddox thousands of miles away from the Cruz compound on the day my family was massacred.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to conjure the memory. I could still feel the cold sweat of terror on my skin. I could still hear the wet, heavy thud of bodies hitting the floor around me as I ran… the screams.
But most importantly, I could smell it. That specific, expensive scent Kanan always wore. It was a mix of cedar wood, aged tobacco, and something sharp, like ozone before a storm.
Trauma could twist faces. Trauma could blur details. But scent? Scent lived in the oldest part of the brain. It didn’t lie.
I hadn't imagined him. I hadn't been so traumatized that I hallucinated my own executioner. I knew he had been there.
He had looked me in the eye, heard me beg for the life of my unborn child… his child… and still, he had said very good before cutting my life short in a brutal way.
So how was he in two places at once?
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, and pressed my palms into my eyes until stars burst behind them.
If Kanan hadn’t been in the country… then who pulled the trigger?
The alibi wasn’t sloppy. It was airtight.... too airtight.
Which meant someone powerful had wanted it that way.
Meaning, Kanan had been planning this for a while.
My jaw clenched hard as my mind flashed to the surveillance pictures of me I had seen in his office that day.
That bastard had planned my death and the massacre of my family right under my nose, and I had been too overcome with wanting him to like me that I hadn't noticed all the signs. I guess him finding out I was pregnant was what pushed him over the edge.
A soft, rhythmic scratching at the narrow window made me jump. I stood up, my heart hammering, and walked toward the glass. I expected another assassin, or perhaps Viper, who was known for her unconventional communication methods, to have returned to finish our conversation.
Instead, I saw a pair of glowing yellow eyes.
I cracked the window open to see a large, battle-scarred tomcat with half an ear missing and a coat the color of soot hopped onto the sill. He didn't meow. He just sat there, looking at me with a judgmental stare that felt eerily human.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
The cat didn't answer. He jumped down onto the floor and walked straight to a small, cracked bowl in the corner that I hadn't noticed before. He sat beside it and waited.
I searched the kitchenette, my hands fumbling through the cupboards until I found a bag of high-end dried salmon treats hidden behind a stack of canned soup. I poured some into the bowl. The cat began to eat with a quiet, efficient hunger.
“Hi, cutie,” I whispered, thinking of petting it. Half scared it was going to claw at me. “Just what could be your name?”
"His name is Bones."
I spun around to see Jax standing at the door. He did not come in. He just leaned against the frame, watching the cat eat.
"I... I didn't know I had a pet," I said, trying to steady my voice.
Jax chuckled softly. "You always refused to call him that. You called him a 'temporary obligation.' You found him about three years ago during that rescue mission that went south. We were supposed to pull that kid out of the burning tenement, but the fire was too fast. We lost the girl, but you found that cat huddled under her bed. You couldn't save the kid, so you saved the beast instead."
I looked at the cat, feeling a strange lump in my throat. This was the humanity Sienna had tried so hard to hide. She carried the guilt of that failed mission in the form of a mangy, street-smart animal.
"You never let him stay inside for long," Jax continued. "You said you didn't want anything depending on you. But you never missed a feeding. Not once. Even when we were on the run, you'd find a way to get back here for him."
I reached out, my fingers hovering over the cat’s scarred head. He did not flinch. He leaned into my touch, a low, rumbling purr vibrating through his frame. This small, living connection to Sienna felt like a debt I had to pay. I was not just protecting her crew. I was protecting the tiny bit of goodness she had left behind.
"Jax," I said, keeping my eyes on the cat. "About earlier… what happened downstairs. I am so sorry."
Jax went quiet. I could feel the weight of his silence pressing against my back.
"I shouldn't have talked about parents that way. I shouldn’t even have forgotten about our past when it means so much," I whispered. "I was confused. The flashes... they make me forget things that should be impossible to forget. I didn't mean to insult what we have."
“You sounded like you were talking about a different life.” He said after a while, his voice low.