Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
“Clerk inside. Two customers. No one saw anything. There’s a back door by the hallway. It was cracked open when I found it. Tire tracks behind the building. Looks like a snatch and grab.”
Dean’s tone turns firm. “Do not move from your location.”
My heart stutters, then slams forward in uneven bursts. “I’m going after her.”
“No,” he says, flat and absolute. “BRAVO is already rolling. They are minutes out. You stay put and you stay alive. We need your eyes and your details.”
Dread pools in my veins like slow poison. “Dean, she’s back in it because I let my guard down.”
“Blame does not help,” Dean replies. “Action helps. Give me your exact location and description of the suspect vehicle if you have it.”
I force air into my lungs and give him everything. Station name. Highway exit. The angle of the building. Where the back door sits. The tracks. I describe the smell in the alley, the smear on the wall, the quickness of it.
Dean listens without interrupting. Then he says, “Stay where you are. Do not run into a trap. Do not become a second hostage. BRAVO will arrive in minutes.”
The call ends before I can argue. I stare at my phone for half a second, fighting the urge to throw it across the lot. Then I call Poe.
He answers immediately, voice already tight. “Tell me you did not just lose her.”
The words punch straight through me. “I lost her,” I say. “Gas station. Bathroom. She got taken out the back. It happened fast.”
Poe inhales, slow and controlled. “Where?”
I give him the location. “I’m already heading there,” he says. “I was in the area when the plate came back. I’ll be on you in a few.”
“You shouldn’t,” I mutter.
Poe snorts. “You’re not the boss of me.”
My insides coil into a cold, writhing knot. “I can’t do this again. I can’t watch her get taken again.”
“You are not watching,” Poe says, colder now. “You are moving. You are reporting. You are going to help. Stop spiraling and keep your head online.”
I close my eyes for one second. Then I open them, forcing myself to focus on details. There’s a camera above the store entrance. Another over the pumps. A third on the back corner that might catch the alley. I look for the brand tag on the hardware, anything I can tell Rae later.
Poe’s voice stays sharp. “Dean knows.”
“Yes.”
“Good,” Poe says. “Then BRAVO is coming. When they get there, do not get in their way.”
Heat floods my face while cold sweat beads along my hairline. “They’re going to tell me to sit back.”
“They’re going to tell you to breathe,” Poe corrects. “And you should listen.”
I end the call and pace near my SUV, trying to stay close to the back of the building without drifting into the shadows like an idiot. The cold bites through my jacket. My hands itch for a weapon, for anything I can use to tear the world apart until Salem is in my arms again.
The minutes stretch thin. Then the sound of engines hits the lot.
Two vehicles pull in, moving with purpose, not like normal customers. Dark SUVs. Tinted windows. The kind of arrival that makes everyone else suddenly look down and mind their own business.
A third vehicle follows. Then another. They park in a way that blocks exits without looking like they are blocking exits. That is the difference between trained and reckless.
Sawyer Maddox steps out first.
He looks like trouble in human form. Calm, controlled, built like he could break a door down with his shoulder and then apologize for the splinters. His gaze locks on mine immediately.
Riggs gets out beside him, scanning the area. Miller. Gunner. Tanner. Jaxson. Movement in a tight pattern, each one taking a slice of the scene like they have done it a thousand times.
Rae’s voice comes through my phone a second later, patched into the team channel. “Ozzy, I’m on comms. I’m pulling traffic cams and station security now. Keep your eyes on your surroundings.”
I clench every part of me that wants to unravel until it hurts to breathe. “Copy.”
Sawyer strides toward me. “Ozzy, give me the entire story.”
I nod, telling him everything again, faster this time but clean. Bathroom. Time lapse. Back door cracked. Tracks. No van visible. My guilt sits in my chest like a weight, but I push it aside because Sawyer is reading facts, not feelings.
Riggs takes notes on his phone, then angles his head toward the back of the building. “We’re going to check the alley and pull video.”
Sawyer’s gaze cuts back to me. “You stay here.”
My jaw clenches. “I can help.”
Sawyer’s expression doesn’t change. “You can help by not getting shot.”
“I know how to move,” I snap.
Gunner’s gaze flicks to me, unimpressed. “Not like us.” That lands exactly where it hurts.
Sawyer’s voice stays calm, but there is steel under it. “Ozzy, I get it. You care. But we do not bring civilians into a breach. You are not cleared, and you are emotionally compromised. Stay put.”