Page 22 of Darkened Promises

“It’s surreal; we’re really doing this. I’m not against it or saying we shouldn’t. It just feels…wild.” Bry laughs, slightly panicked and nervous.

“We’re not doing anything dangerous, just a bit investigative. You just stay here and be ready when we need to go.” We sit for a few more minutes in silence, listening to Nate and Max making their way into position.

“Here,” Nate updates.

“Fucking stinks,” Max complains. “Did you have to choose a bin for us to hide behind?”

I chuckle as I step out of the car, then make my way over to the office. The entrance is visible from the car, but it shouldn’t be close enough that they would notice us easily from their windows.

“Going in,” I murmur as I open the entrance door, walking up to the reception desk.

“Welcome to Merriweather Recruitment. How can I help you?” the brunette woman greets, dark blue glasses perched on her nose as she stares at me.

“Thank you. If you could let Peter know that Noah’s here to see him,” I request, returning her smile. “We had a meeting the other day about a vacancy we have, but it was cut short.”

Lying isn’t something I’m exactly comfortable doing, but it made sense for me to try to pick up from the false meeting Nate had previously booked for us. He has his business already set up, so if Peter looks into it, then he can see it exists. He just doesn’t need to know that Nate, or we, aren’t actually looking for anyone.

It doesn’t take her long to return. “He’s got some time, so he can see you now if you’d like to follow me?”

She strides quickly down the corridor and leads me into the office we’d met in before.

“Peter, hi. Sorry to drop by unannounced like this. I wanted to apologise for how our last conversation went.” I offer my hand to him, and he watches me intently before clasping my hand in his.

“Noah, isn’t it? Your colleagues left a sour taste when we met previously, and I didn’t appreciate the behaviour or tone. I agreed to meet with you now because I recall you were the only one who seemed level-headed.”

Max lets out a stream of curse words through my ear, and it takes effort to not wince.

“I appreciate that, and it’s just myself you need to liaise directly with,” I offer, taking the seat he gestures to. “I hope I’ve not interrupted you on a busy day?”

THIRTEEN

MAX

Crouched behind the communal bins, Nate and I wait silently for the go ahead. Fuck, if my body isn’t vibrating with adrenaline. I may be the joking prankster out of the four of us, but I’ve never broken into a building before. Neither of us has, so I’m fully anticipating something to go sideways.

The waiting beforehand? It’s not what I expected. Nate’s not interested in keeping me entertained with small talk. He’s eerily calm, but I’m not stupid enough to think he’s not thrashing underneath the surface.

I also think if I tell Nate I need to take a piss again, he might punch me or shove me into the foul-smelling bin next to us.

Apparently, I’m a nervous pisser.

Head rotating in my direction, Nate narrows his gaze and glares at me. Fuck, can he tell I need to go again?

Thankfully, the office building is detached. It was originally built in the 1800s and has since been converted to contain an office on the ground floor, with an additional area upstairs. Which is where we’re heading to search. I did a little research after my first visit with Rosy. The architecture is stunning. Shame about the prick who runs the place.

Normally I’d be able to appreciate the exterior, but it was hard to concentrate on the gothic stone front porch with its recessed doorway when you’re creeping silently down the path alongside another building, around to the back. Now I’m crouched, staring up at the second floor, looking past the decorative ironwork and through the dressed windows. Trying to not let hope creep in that we might find something there that can help us find Rosy.

“I hope I’ve not interrupted you on a busy day?” Noah says, which was the agreed signal for us to enter. It means he’s got Peter busy in the office with him.

Nate moves low towards the building without waiting for me. Typical.

Dropping to his knees at the fence gate, Nate grabs some of the tools from his bag and starts on the locking cylinder. We’re lucky it’s an older building. There may have been some security upgrades, but it’s still relatively easy to bypass the precautions. Nate makes it through the gate lock. The building’s back door is unlocked.

A swarm of unease churns in my stomach, and I bounce on the balls of my feet, unable to stay still with the energy coursing through me.

I need in.

As I go to push through and step over the threshold, Nate’s meaty arm pulls me up short, and my temper fizzles with impatience. Right, the plan. No bulldozing, just lots of doing things carefully.