I answer. “Talk.”
“I’ve got something,” he says. “Her stepfather. Richard Smith. Moved money this week. Pulled private security funds. Traced to a cabin outside Maple Woods. Remote. Surveillance drops two miles before the road ends.”
I’m already moving. “You sure?”
“He took her, Viper. I’d stake my patch on it.”
“Then I’m going in.”
“You’ll need backup.”
“I’ll take my gun. That’s enough.”
I hang up.
Saint steps into my path. “We’re coming.”
“This one’s mine.”
“Fuck that,” he snaps. “She’s family now.”
Havoc nods. “You go, we go.”
We ride hard.
The night stretches over the highway like a loaded gun. My engine screams under me, wind cutting through my cut, the road blurring past. I don’t think. I burn.
Every second she’s gone, my rage grows.
No one touches what’s mine.
No one.
Maple Woods rises out of the dark an hour later. Dirt roads. Towering pines. One way in. We kill our lights a mile out and roll in silent.
Saint pulls up beside me. “Plan?”
“I go loud through the front,” I say. “You two circle the back. If you see Ava, you get her out.”
Havoc grins. “Loud works.”
“No survivors,” I growl. “Unless it’s her stepfather. He’s mine.”
Saint nods once. “Let’s end this.”
I dismount, gun heavy at my side, heart pounding like war drums.
They think they can take her from me.
I’ll show them what breaking looks like.
The first man steps out of the trees. Big. Smug.
Two shots drop him before he finishes blinking.
Another charges from the porch.
Mistake.
