“Old industrial zone,” Thorne says, eyes narrowing. “There’s a warehouse strip near the river.”
Silas nods. “There is. And it’s outside town limits—barely. Sheriff jurisdiction overlaps.”
Gavin turns to Silas. “Pull local law enforcement. Quiet. We don’t want Renshaw tipped by someone dirty.”
Silas’s mouth tightens. “I’ve got two deputies I trust. That’s it.”
“Bring them,” Gavin says. Then he looks at me. His expression shifts slightly—not commander now, but man-to-man. “Rhett,” he says low. “You good?”
I don’t answer with words. Because if I open my mouth, I’ll say something that sounds like a vow and a threat all at once. I nod once. And that’s enough.
The room becomes motion again—men grabbing gear, loading mags, checking comms. Eli tosses med supplies into his bag. Boyd and Thorne pull rifles from the locker like it’s muscle memory. Chase rolls his shoulders, face turning sharp. Harlan follows suit.
Rafe steps up beside me and speaks quietly, like he knows exactly what’s happening inside my chest. “You bring her home,” he says.
“I will,” I rasp.
Gavin’s voice carries. “We move as a unit. In and out. Secure Emma first. Renshaw alive if possible. If not…”
No one finishes that sentence. Because we all know what “if not” means. And I don’t care. I don’t care about his badge. His status. His excuses. He took her. Plain and simple. The mother fucker took her from me, and now he’s going to have to die.
My vision narrows into a tunnel, and at the end of it is one thing:Emma.
We load into SUVs in the falling snow. Wyatt rides shotgun in the lead vehicle, tracking the route live. Silas is on comms with his trusted deputies. Gavin is in command channel, calm and lethal.
And me? I’m a storm in a body.
As the tires bite into the icy road and we head down the mountain toward that warehouse, one thought repeats in my head like a drumbeat.
Hold on, Trouble.
I’m coming.
The drive to town is quick. I don’t know how fast I drive, but I know it’s well above the limit. The warehouse lights appear in the distance. They’re faint, barely there. I step harder on the accelerator, my heart pounding in my ears.
I park the SUV in the lot, and we exit. Clean. Like we haven’t done this a million times. It’s all muscle memory at this point.
Gavin’s voice comes through my earpiece. “Weapons hot. Eyes up.”
I check my rifle, then my sidearm, then my knife—because I want options. Because I’m not losing her. Not today. Not ever.
We move on the building. Lethal. Like we’re one basic unit. Because we are.
“Positions,” Gavin orders quietly.
Men move like shadows, stepping out into the night.
Silas leans in beside me, voice low and grim. “We do this clean.”
I don’t look at him. I don’t need to. “Clean,” I agree. But inside, I’m already a different thing.
A man who has decided.
A man who is done being reasonable.
Because Emma isn’t just a mission now.
She’s mine.