Lee nods, and we break left, heading for the metal staircase that hugs the far wall. A guard steps into our path—young, scared, gun shaking in his hands. Lee drops him with a single punch, knocking him out cold before he can fire one off.
“Keep moving,” Lee says. “I’ve got your six.”
The stairs rattle under our boots. Halfway up, I hear it—a woman’s scream, cut short. My blood turns to ice.
Josie.
I take the remaining stairs three at a time, bursting onto the second-floor catwalk with my gun up and my heart in my throat. The foreman’s office is twenty feet ahead, its windows shattered, smoke still curling from the flash-bang.
Standing in the doorway, using Josie as a human shield, is Vincent Caruso.
He’s got one arm locked around her throat, a pistol pressed to her temple. Her face is a mess—swollen lip, blackening eye, blood drying on her chin. But her eyes are alert, fierce, tracking my every move.
She’s alive. She’s hurt, but she’s alive.
“That’s far enough!” Caruso’s voice is high, tight with panic. Whatever smooth control he had before is gone. He’s a cornered animal now, and cornered animals are dangerous. “Drop your weapons or I put a bullet through her brain!”
I stop. Lee stops behind me.
“Not happening.” I keep my gun trained on Caruso, but I don’t have a shot. Josie’s body blocks everything vital. Even a headshot is risky—if he flinches, if I miss by a millimeter, she’s dead.
“I’ll do it!” He jams the gun harder against her temple, and she winces. “You think I won’t? I’ve killed a hundred people. One more won’t make a difference.”
“If you kill her, you’ve got nothing. No leverage. No way out.” I take a slow step forward. “Right now, she’s the only thing keeping you alive.”
“Stay back!”
I stop again.
Think. Think, goddammit.
The catwalk is narrow—maybe four feet wide, with a railing on one side and a twenty-foot drop to the main floor on the other. Caruso is backing toward the far end, where a door leads to what looks like an exterior fire escape. If he makes it through that door with Josie, we lose him.
I can’t let that happen.
“Dad,” Lee’s voice is low, barely audible over the chaos below. “Steel’s in position. Northeast corner. But he doesn’t have a shot yet. Not with Josie in the way.”
Steel.
If anyone can make this shot, it’s him.
But Caruso isn’t giving him an opening. He’s smart—keeping Josie’s body between himself and any possible sniper angle, never exposing more than a sliver of his head.
Unless someone forces him to move.
“Josie.” I keep my voice calm, steady, even though my heart is trying to beat out of my chest. “You trust me?”
Her eyes meet mine. Swollen, bloodied, terrified—but underneath all that, I see it. The fire that made me fall in love with her.
“Always,” she says.
I lower my gun.
Caruso blinks, confused. “What are you doing?”
“You want a hostage?” I spread my arms wide, making myself the biggest target possible. “Take me instead. I’m President of the Stoneheart MC. I know where the bodies and info is buried, Caruso.”
“Stone, no—” Josie starts.
