Chapter 58 The Midnight Retreat
Aria POV
The rain started as a light drizzle the moment we cleared the parking garage of the Apex building, but by the time Grayson turned onto the industrial service roads, it had become a heavy downpour that made the wipers on the truck screech as they struggled to keep the windshield clear.
I sat low in the passenger seat with my hood pulled up, and I kept watching the side mirrors for any sign of those sleek black Syndicate sedans or the roaring headlights of an Iron Fang motorcycle gang, but the streets were mostly empty and the only thing I could see were the blurred reflections of neon signs in the puddles.
Grayson hadn't spoken a single word since we left the boardroom, and his hands were gripped so tightly around the steering wheel that his knuckles looked like white stones in the dim light of the dashboard.
"You should probably stop holding your breath, Aria, because we’ve already cleared the high-security zone and Jax is currently looping the footage of the main gate to show that we headed toward the docks instead of the city center," Grayson finally said, though he didn't slow down as he navigated a series of tight turns through an alleyway filled with overflowing trash bins and old shipping crates.
"I can't help it, because an hour ago I was a corporate spy with three million dollars in a fake bank account and now I'm a fugitive sitting in a truck that looks like it went through a blender," I replied, and I reached up to touch the cold glass of the window while I watched a group of people huddled under an awning at a bus stop.
"I keep thinking about Nana and Martha back at the clubhouse, and I wonder if the pack is already arguing about whether they should have turned me over to Delilah to save the family business."
"The clubhouse isn't safe for us right now, not because of the Iron Fangs, but because the rift I just created with my sister is going to start a fire in the ranks that even I can't put out with a few orders," Grayson admitted, and he turned off the headlights as we approached a quiet residential district filled with luxury high-rise buildings that looked like they belonged in a different world than the one I grew up in.
"There are men in my pack who have been with the Harts for generations, and they aren't going to like the fact that I just threatened the board members who pay their salaries, so we need a place where no one—not even Jax or Miller—can find us until I figure out who is still on my side."
"Where are we going? Because if we go to a hotel they’ll find us by our credit cards, and I don't think I can handle sleeping in the back of this truck in the middle of a thunderstorm," I asked, and I watched as he pulled into a discreet underground parking entrance that didn't have any markings or signs on the outside.
"I bought a penthouse in this building five years ago under the name of a shell company that doesn't have any ties to Hart Industries or the Nightfang pack, so as far as the world is concerned, this unit is owned by a retired architect who spends most of his time in Europe," he explained, and he waited for a heavy steel gate to roll upward before he eased the battered truck into a private stall that was tucked away in a dark corner of the garage.
"I bought it as a backup plan for when things with the Syndicate eventually turned sour, and I never thought I’d actually have to use it, but here we are."
"You really think of everything, don't you?" I said, and I felt a strange sense of exhaustion wash over me as the engine finally died and the only sound was the clicking of the metal cooling down and the distant rumble of thunder from above.
"I try to, but I didn't think I’d be bringing a baker with me on my first night as an outlaw," he replied, and he looked at me with a tired expression that made him look less like a powerful Alpha and more like a man who was just as confused as I was.
We got out of the truck and headed toward a private elevator that opened with a simple keycard he kept hidden in the lining of his jacket, and as the lift started to move upward, I saw my reflection in the polished metal doors and I barely recognized myself.
My hair was a mess from the rain and there was a smudge of grease on my cheek from the garage, and I realized with a sudden, sharp pang of sadness that the girl who used to wake up at four in the morning to bake cinnamon rolls was officially gone. I was tied to Grayson now, and his enemies were my enemies, which meant that even if I walked away right this second, there was no job or apartment waiting for me in the city anymore.
"Are you okay?" he asked, noticing that I was staring at my own hands while the floor numbers ticked upward toward the top of the building.
"I was just thinking about the bakery again, and how Penelope must be feeling today as she looks at the ruins of her shop," I told him, and I felt the guilt return even though I knew I couldn't have stopped the fire.
"I keep wondering if there's any way to go back to being just Aria, but the further this elevator goes up, the more it feels like I'm leaving that girl on the ground."
"You can't go back, but that doesn't mean you have to lose yourself in the process," Grayson said, and the elevator doors opened to reveal a massive, dark foyer that smelled of stale air and expensive furniture that had been covered in white dust sheets for years.
He didn't turn on the main lights, instead he walked over to a side wall and flicked a switch that turned on a few low-level lamps, which cast long shadows across the open-concept living room and the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the rainy skyline. I walked over to the glass and saw the city lights twinkling below us, and even though it was the most beautiful view I had ever seen, it felt like a golden cage because I knew I couldn't step outside those doors without risking my life.
"It's a lot of space for two people who are supposed to be hiding," I remarked, running my hand over the dusty surface of a marble countertop in the kitchen while I tried to imagine Grayson living here.
"It's a fortress with a nice view, Aria, and for now, it's the only place on earth where people aren't trying to put us in handcuffs or a coffin," he said, and he started pulling the sheets off the furniture while I stood there and tried to process the fact that I was now a fugitive living in a penthouse.