Ronan murmurs, “Locked in.”
I answer, quiet but certain. “Ready.”
Ready to kill every fucking man in this building.
Ready to get my sister back.
Ready to end Bryce.
The silence stretches so thin I swear I can hear each of our heartbeats ticking through the comm. My palms sweat inside my gloves. Every shadow in this goddamn place feels like it’s leaning closer, watching us, holding its breath.
Then Berk whispers the word we’re all dying to hear.
“Go.”
Her command slices clean and sharp, and the world moves.
I don’t hesitate. None of us do. Glass shatters under my elbow with a muted crack, and chilly night air whips in as I slip through the window frame. The metal groans under my boots. I land softly, gun raised. Across the building, I hear the muffled breaks of glass from Ronan, Berk, Rowan—four restrained intrusions hitting the top floor all at once.
We sweep the hallway like a single creature, converging without ever seeing each other. My footsteps barely whisper over the dusty floor. Every door I pass I clear fast, efficient.
Empty room.
Empty office.
Empty storage closet.
Rowan’s voice murmurs through the comm, “Bedroom. He’s inside. Moving.”
I’m already turning toward that side of the hall, pulse pounding, breath sharp.
We stack outside his door. Ronan and Berk position across from me, all of us flanking my brother, who’s ready to breach.
We surge in.
Bryce jerks in a drunken, startled gasp, blinking blearily at the four of us closing in on him. He’s sprawled on a mattressthat looks too expensive for the rat he is, shirt half open, belt undone. His hand fumbles at the nightstand, desperate for his gun.
Rowan kicks it away before he can reach it.
Bryce’s eyes widen when he sees our faces. His mouth twitches, trying to form words, excuses, lies.
He never gets the chance.
Ronan slams him back against the headboard with one hand around his throat, pinning him like the pathetic insect he is. “Move and I’ll break your fucking neck.”
Bryce pisses himself.
No metaphor. No exaggeration.
A yellow stain blooms across the sheets, and a grim, venomous satisfaction floods my veins.
Good. Let the bastard know fear for once in his miserable life.
Berk slips in behind us, eyes icy calm as she assesses the room.
I help Rowan haul Bryce out of the bed and onto the ground, where Ronan cuffs his wrists behind his back with zip ties strong enough to restrain an animal three times his size. Bryce whimpers and tries to buck.
I slam my boot into his spine. “Stop.”