Page 47 of Reclaimed

Last I checked, she was fast asleep. Now, her cell is empty.

Something in my chest pulls tight, my jaw clenching as I drop down into my recliner. Pulling up her file, I swipe into her profile to see what evaluation she’s been pulled in for, a notification at the top of the screen giving me pause.

Returned to Guardian.

I blink at the screen, sure I’m reading it wrong because it makes no fucking sense– her prior Guardian is dead and gone.

I click on the notification, finding her Guardian listed not as Isaiah Martin, but as Harris Rupert.

That sociopath?

My brows slam down, thumbs working over the screen. Just as I begin attempting to access Harris’ files, a knock comes at the door.

I try to ignore it, but it persists.

Slamming my phone down, I stalk over to the door and yank it open, finding Slade on the other side.

“What?” I spit.

He pushes in without invitation, and I huff as I shove the door closed behind him. Slade takes a few steps, then turns to face me.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

“What was?” I scoff, moving back to the living room.

“Miller.”

I grunt noncommittally, focusing back on my phone as I sink down on the couch again.

“Your lip curled when he said someone here did it. It’s your tell.”

“No it didn’t,” I mutter, trying and failing to access Harris’ files with the backdoor access Slade granted me for Jersey.

“Don’t bullshit me, Riggs,” Slade huffs, folding his arms and leveling me with a stare. “I know you. Why would you fuck with someone not only in The Registry, but a Commander’s son?”

“Not now,” I grumble, holding my phone out. “Can you help me get into this?”

Slade rolls his eyes and takes my phone, never one to turn down a chance at showing off. His fingers fly across the screen, the corner of his mouth twitching as I see a script running in the reflection of his glasses.

“Here,” he sighs, passing my phone back to me. “Now, back to Miller…”

His voice fades into background noise as I start digging through the file, finding altered logs and missing report details.

“Riggs, are you listening? The fuck is so important?” Slade swipes my phone out of my hand, his brow creasing as his eyes drop to the screen to skim the text. “That’s weird. There has to be another version.”

“Find it,” I grit out.

He looks up at me, considering. “No,” he decides, tossing my phone down and pivoting on a heel.

“Slade,” I snarl.

He stops, pivoting back toward me. “Fine. But after, we’re gonna talk about this Miller thing.”

“Fine,” I concede with a resigned sigh.

“I asked for a VR headset, you know,” he calls out, already moving towards my office. “But no, my dad brought you home instead.”

“I just wanted something to eat,” I mumble as I follow him in, plugging my phone into the modem. “Looks like we both got shit luck.”