Relentless (Option Zero #2) - Christy Reece Page 0,39

made for each other than Sean and Serena Donavan. Some people did find their happy ever after. Most didn’t.

Ash and Jules had found theirs, too. A few months ago, they’d said their vows beneath the setting sun at their home in Montana. It had been beautiful and romantic. And just last week, they’d shared the happy news that Jules was pregnant. After all they’d been through, they deserved this happiness.

Jazz knew she wasn’t destined for a happy ending—not like her friends. She had made her peace with that. She was luckier than most. She had found a family in OZ. She enjoyed her job, loved its purpose. She had a fulfilling life, and considering her life before OZ, every day she had breath was a miracle.

Her mind returned to their purpose for being here. “Kate told her we were going to get in touch with her, right?”

Serena nodded. “Yes. She’s expecting to hear from us.”

“Then I say we surprise her, just show up at her door. Nothing like a little unexpected company to throw you off your game.”

Aubrey pulled herself from the pool and stretched, working out any remaining kinks. Even though she hadn’t slept well, with all sorts of weird dreams haunting her, there was nothing like a good, strong swim to get the body in gear.

Wrapping the towel around her energized body, she grabbed her phone from the patio table. One of the reasons she’d tossed and turned was her uncertainty about what she should do with the information she had on Ferante. She needed to make a decision and soon. Someone else needed to know about her suspicions. What if something happened to her, and her findings died with her? Even though she had no real proof, only speculation and theories, someone else should be made aware of what she’d learned.

She’d woken still undecided, but the invigorating exercise had given her the answer she sought. She would call Uncle Syd and tell him. Even though she didn’t want him to help her financially, she trusted his judgment. He’d always been there for her. Plus, he knew a lot more people than she did. He probably even knew Ferante. His insight would be invaluable.

She hadn’t called the police about the break-in. There had been no point. Not only were the small signs she’d detected not provable, nothing had been taken. Her research was safe. But someone had been here—who they were and what they knew was still a mystery.

Still dabbing at her sopping hair, she dropped into a chair and pulled up her contact screen. Her finger hovered over her uncle’s number. Would she be putting him in danger? That was the last thing she wanted. Was there any danger? She didn’t know.

Indecisiveness wasn’t her norm, and it was frustrating not to know the right answer.

The doorbell rang, giving her a reprieve. Wrapping the towel tighter around her body, Aubrey went inside and through the house to the front door. She wasn’t expecting anyone and though her neighbors sometimes stopped by with baked goods or a friendly chat, it was just past seven in the morning, and few were out and about at this hour.

She peered out the window, surprised to see two strangers at her door. One was a petite young woman, maybe mid-twenties, with short, ink-black hair, and dark eyes. The other woman was in her early thirties, medium height, with brownish-blond hair and light green eyes. They were both dressed casually in jeans, but there was nothing casual about their demeanor. Their expressions were set with confidence and determination.

Already suspecting their identities, Aubrey opened the door. “Can I help you?”

“We’re friends of Kate’s.”

Kate had told her she would be contacted. Having them show up at her house was a surprise.

“Mind if I see some ID?”

“No problem,” the dark-haired woman answered.

They both whipped out driver’s licenses with their photos and names—the dark-haired one was Jasmine McAlister, or Jazz, as Kate had called her. The brown-haired woman was Serena Donavan.

Opening the door wider, she waved them in. “Sorry to be underdressed. I thought I’d get a phone call, not a home visit.”

“After we chat, you’ll understand why,” Serena Donavan said.

Intrigued, Aubrey led them into her living room. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Serena answered.

Her eyes roaming the room, Jasmine only nodded.

Aubrey turned too quickly, causing her towel to slip. Wrapping it more securely around her body, she sent the women an awkward smile. “While the coffee’s brewing, I’ll throw on some clothes. Be right back.”

Preparing the

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