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park. In our yard. On the sofa with a book. Wearing her pink fight gloves. A few of me with her, handing her a piece of birthday cake. I’m scowling. That was the day I kicked him out, before we reconnected.
    I let the screen fade out again. I should save the battery.
    A movement makes me jump to my feet. The door on my left is opening.
    “I’m not going to hurt you,” a voice says. Then the gray-shirt man steps in. Jax.
    He enters like a shadow, mysterious and stealthy. His hair is immaculately cut and his face is chiseled like a movie star.
    Jax moves with the precision of a tightrope walker with no unnecessary movements. “You must be Maddie,” he says. His voice is deep and smooth. He could do radio , I think.
    This man could do anything.
    I press into the counter behind me, clutching the phone. “You’re Colt’s friend?” I ask.
    “An acquaintance,” he says. “I’m here to get you home.”
    “Where’s Parker?”
    “He’s with Colt now. They’re prepping Striker’s van for the last salvo.”
    “Can I come?”
    Jax smiles with white, perfect teeth. Is anything about this man less than flawless?
    “I am absolutely sure you would be an asset to our little shindig, but you’re bound to be weary of all this drama. I have a car ready to pick you up by a back door. Do you want it?”
    Now that I can actually get away, I’m torn. Yes, I want out. But there’s Parker.
    “I tell you what,” Jax says. He moves toward me fluidly. “I’ll put you in the car and let you ride around and when we’ve tidied up here, I’ll have the car come for Parker. So you won’t have to wait alone anywhere.”
    “Okay,” I say.
    “You have his phone,” he says. “We’ll stay in contact.”
    He holds out his hand. For some reason, I take it, even though as soon as his cool skin touches mine, I wonder why I did. It’s as though he has some command over me.
    Jax presses a small circular dot onto the back of my hand.
    “What’s that?”
    “A GPS tracker. Just in case we get separated. I have one too.” He shows me his hand. “You can peel it off and toss it whenever you like, but it will help us find you.”
    He lifts my hand with Parker’s phone and clicks the power button three times. A grid comes up with six pulsing dots in different colors. Two are right next to each other. “This is us,” he says, pointing to blue and green. “Parker is red. Colt is orange.”
    The red and orange dots are about to converge. Parker must be done fighting. The pace of the dot is normal.
    “Who are the other two?”
    “My colleagues,” he says. He lets go of the phone so that it rests back in my palm. “Does that help you feel better? You can track him.”
    I nod. I can tell a lot just by how fast the dots move. Colt and Parker stand still for a moment, then move forward together.
    “All right. We’re going to go down four hallways. Then right outside.”
    “Okay.”
    “I don’t think we’ll encounter anyone, but if we do, just stay behind and to the right of me. Can you do that?”
    “Yes.”
    “Very good.” He lets go of my hand and we go out the opposite door into another corridor.
    He moves so silently that all I hear is the tap of my own shoes. I feel loud and clunky coming up behind him, but he doesn’t ask for me to be more quiet.
    We turn down another hall. “That’s two,” he says quietly.
    This one is long and dark. He shakes his wrist and a green glow shines ahead. “Doesn’t set off infrared,” he says. “A little showy for this gig, but it works.”
    I wonder what a normal gig is for him. Is he some sort of spy?
    The doors on this hall are all propped open, revealing larger rooms with long assembly tables. Must have been a shipping section, which meant the main warehouse space had to be close.
    We turn another corner. “That’s three,” Jax says.
    Almost there.
    But when we make the last turn, Striker and Blue Hair are blocking the way.

Chapter 11: Parker

    The black van sits in the