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)
I swallow hard. I want to argue. I want to shove past them and sprint into the dark like speed will fix what I broke. But Salem is the one paying for my pride right now. I force myself to nod. “Fine. What do you need from me?”
Sawyer’s gaze softens a fraction. “Stay on comms. Answer questions. Tell us anything you remember.” He places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “We’ll get her back.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
Riggs and Miller peel off to the back corner of the store. Tanner and Jaxson head inside to talk to the clerk.
Rae keeps feeding updates through my phone. “Station has four cameras. Front entrance, aisle three, pump lane, and rear corner. Rear camera may have been disabled. I’m seeing gaps.”
I force myself to breathe. “Someone planned it.”
Sawyer hears me and nods like he already knew.
A vehicle pulls into the lot then. An older sedan, fast and ugly in the way it parks. Poe gets out before it fully stops. He moves like a man who has decided the rules are optional. He walks straight toward me, eyes hard, jaw tight.
Sawyer’s gaze flicks to him. “And you are?”
“Poe,” Poe says without stopping. “I’m with him.”
Sawyer looks him up and down. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Poe narrows his eyes at him. “I’m not leaving.”
Sawyer’s mouth tightens. He turns his attention back to me. “Your friend is going to wait with you.”
Poe gives a humorless laugh. “That’s what I came for.”
We wait near my SUV while BRAVO finishes gathering intel. The air feels thicker now, as if the whole place knows what is about to happen.
Riggs returns and gives Sawyer a quick update. “Rear corner camera is dead. Cut clean. That’s deliberate.”
Sawyer nods once. “Warehouse lead still holds. We move.”
My stomach drops. They think she was taken to the warehouse. The same one we found. And maybe she was. It’s seriously the best we’ve got right now.
Poe’s gaze locks on mine. “Told you it was a message.”
I swallow hard. “They want us to chase.”
“And we will,” Poe says. “But we do it smart.”
Sawyer steps closer. “Ozzy, Poe. You both stay outside the warehouse perimeter when we arrive. You will not enter. You will not engage. If you see movement, you report. You do not do anything that’ll get you killed.”
Poe opens his mouth like he wants to argue.
Sawyer gives him a look that shuts him up.
Poe mutters, “Fine.”
We get into vehicles. I ride with Poe because Sawyer does not want me driving in a state like this, and I hate that he’s right. My hands shake too much.
The drive to the warehouse feels shorter than it should.
The sun has climbed higher, but the light is weak. The lot looks emptier now, like it has swallowed people before and is ready to swallow more.
Sawyer’s team spreads out the moment they arrive. Silent. Efficient. A ripple of bodies moving into positions. Riggs signals. Gunner takes the right side. Tanner checks a window line. Jaxson angles toward the loading dock. Miller disappears into the shadows like he was born there.
Rae’s voice is steady. “I have county traffic feeds up. No obvious movement around the warehouse for the last thirty minutes. That does not mean it’s clear. It means they’re disciplined.”
Poe’s fingers flex on the steering wheel. “I hate disciplined.”
“I hate that she’s inside,” I say.
Poe glances at me, eyes sharp. “Hold it together.”
“I am,” I lie.
Sawyer’s voice comes through on the team channel. “Stack on the side entrance. On my count.”
I can see them now, clustered near the door we could not open earlier. Weapons ready. Bodies angled. Focused.
My throat tightens so hard it hurts.
Salem’s in there.
She’s scared.
And I am outside, useless.
Poe’s voice is low beside me. “If you go in, you get her killed.”
I close my eyes for a second. Then I open them, staring hard at the warehouse door.
Sawyer raises his hand. The team forms the stack.
Rae’s voice comes through calm and clear. “Cameras are still down. No external feeds. You are dark.”
Sawyer’s reply is a quiet and steady, “Copy.”
He looks over his shoulder once, checking the perimeter. His gaze catches mine through the windshield. He gives a single nod like he is promising me something. Then he turns back to the door. Sawyer’s hand drops.
And BRAVO breaches.
TWENTY-FIVE
SALEM
The warehouse smells like damp metal and old oil, like someone tried to scrub the place clean and only succeeded in spreading the stink around. The overhead lights flicker in a slow, taunting rhythm. Every time they buzz, the shadows jump and my stomach twists tighter.
My wrists ache where the rope bites. My shoulders burn from being yanked into position. My cheek still throbs from the backhand at the gas station, and my mouth tastes like copper. I keep swallowing, trying to get rid of the blood, but it just sits there, sour and stubborn.