Rowan looks between us. His throat works once. Twice. “If one of us doesn’t make it—”
“Don’t,” I warn.
“No,” he insists, voice thick but steady. “We say it. Now. Before we go in.”
Ronan gives a hard nod. “If one of us doesn’t make it, the other two take care of our girls. Kimber. Berk. And each other.”
My chest aches so hard it feels like something is tearing. “No one dies today,” I say, even though we all know that isn’t a promise anyone can make.
But Rowan grips my wrist.
Ronan grips the other.
And for a breath, we’re unbreakable.
“We end him,” Rowan whispers.
“We bring them home,” I add.
“And if the world burns,” Ronan finishes, “then it burns with him in it.”
We release each other at the same time.
And then we move.
Toward the warehouse.
Toward our fate.
Toward the monsters waiting inside.
One mission.
One goal.
One family worth killing for.
And worth dying for—if that’s the price.
Chapter Seventeen
Berkley
Before I left the house, I set up failsafes everywhere I could think of. Silent pings. Buried signals. Backdoor traces only Ronan would spot on the first sweep, and Emerson right after him. Rowan will lose his mind, but he’ll follow the trail anyway because he always does. They will find me. They will tear the world apart to find me.
And still… leaving them behind felt like carving pieces out of myself.
I know how badly this is going to gut them. The betrayal they’ll feel when they realize I’m gone, and worse when they understand I walked out on purpose. I don’t know if they’ll ever forgive me. But for Kimber? I’d do it again. A thousand times. There isn’t a version of this where I let her end up like I did. There isn’t a universe where I don’t choose her.
Once I answered Dean’s text and locked my fate in place with five words—What do I need to do?—I switched the conversation to my phone. I texted him again from my number, continuing the thread exactly where I left off. He didn’t question it for a second. Of course he didn’t. He cares about results, not methods. And I know exactly what result he wants. He wants me delivered like a gift. A shiny, ribbon-wrapped offering on a silver platter.
But I’m not stupid. I know he never intends to give Kimber back. Dean has never released something he considers his. And now that he realizes I’m alive in full force—rebuilt, sharpened, dangerous—he’ll want both of us. Me and Kimber.
The difference now is that the timeline is on my terms.
I have to buy enough time for my guys to wake up, panic, tear the house apart, and eventually think their way through the data crumbs I left behind. The only real unknown is how long they’ll sleep. I’d hoped the aftermath of last night would knock them out for at least four hours. Maybe five. Enough time to keep Dean from getting suspicious, but not enough for him to lock me away before they close in.
His demands came fast during our exchange. He wanted me to leave the guys behind. He wanted silence. He wanted me to come alone. Unarmed. Immediately.