He found me.
The words repeated in her head while her heart was thudding hard in her chest. He. Notthey. One person. Someone Olivia had been running from.
Was it Dr. Cyrus Hale? The man who built the Hale Institute into a so-called recovery empire, who profited from the trauma of the vulnerable? Or was it someone else? Someone more personal. Someone Olivia knew would come for her.
Delaney squeezed her eyes shut a moment and groaned. They were too late. Again. Just like with Jordan.
No. Not this time.
She stood abruptly, breath shallow, about to call for Eli when something flickered at the edge of her vision. Delaney jerked her head toward the window across the kitchen. Through the glass, between the trees, a shadow moved. Not wind. Not an animal.
A man. Stumbling.
“Outside. Someone’s there,” she told Eli.
Eli was already moving. They burst out the back door and cut across the gravel toward the woods, rifles raised, steps fast but controlled.
Fifty yards in, they found him.
The second Crossfire Ops guard was slumped against a tree, blood trailing down the side of his face, one hand pressed to a gash near his temple. His other hand clutched the stock of his weapon, though it dangled uselessly at his side.
Delaney dropped beside him. “You’re Jackson, right? Jackson Ward?”
He blinked up at her, dazed. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.”
Eli knelt on the other side. “Talk to us. What happened?”
Jackson coughed once, eyes squinting in pain. “Gas canisters through the windows. Couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe. Ty tried to move Olivia to the hall. I took the back, but thensomeone got behind me. Smashed something into my head.”
Delaney’s chest clenched. “How many?”
“Three. All wearing ski masks. They were fast, knew the layout. One of them shot Ty. The others grabbed Olivia. Hauled her out the back. Into the trees.”
Eli stood, eyes scanning the tree line as he spoke. “Stay with Ty. Help the EMTs when they get here. We’re going after her.”
Jackson nodded, trying to push himself upright, but his body gave out. “Go,” he rasped. “They weren’t far ahead. You can still catch them.”
Delaney looked at Eli. He was already moving, rifle up, boots cutting a path through the brush.
She took one last glance at Jackson, then ran after him, heart pounding. The fog was lifting, and the woods ahead were starting to glow with early morning light.
They had a lead.
And they were not letting Olivia disappear without a fight.
Delaney followed Eli into the trees, the chill of the morning air sharper here in the shade. The woods were dense, thick with cedar and scrub, the rising sun casting fractured light through the branches. Their boots moved silently over the uneven ground, past twisted roots and crushed brush.
The trail wasn’t hard to spot. Branches bentback. Leaves torn. Patches of damp earth stamped down with deep, urgent footprints.
Whoever had taken Olivia had moved fast. And not carefully.
Delaney’s pulse pounded in her ears, but she kept her weapon steady, eyes scanning every shift in shadow, every broken limb. Her breath came fast but controlled, sharp in the back of her throat.
Eli moved just ahead of her, steps sure and efficient. She watched the way he navigated the trail, how his gaze constantly scanned left and right without ever slowing down. He was in full operator mode now, and that steadied her more than she wanted to admit.
They pushed deeper into the woods, following the trampled path as it twisted downhill. A sharp scent of disturbed soil and something faintly chemical clung to the air. Maybe residue from the tear gas canisters.
For a long stretch, there was nothing. No sound. No voices. Not even birds.
