As far as Seth saw it, he only had one option, and he wasn’t going to cry for Bob. The fucking bastard had made his choices. And he was about to find out that when you played stupid games, you won stupid prizes.
Without a second thought, he shoved the tranq gun into his waistband, forced Bob face-down against the asphalt, then gripped Bob’s head in both hands twisted—hard. Quick. Controlled. Final.
He was dead.
Seth stepped over him and ran for the SUV, refusing to dwell on the fact that he’d just killed a man he’d known since childhood. No time to process it. No time to feel any certain way. He had to get to the house before Gene got suspicious—if he wasn’t already. Seth’s thirty-minute window was closing fast.
He had to save his family.
And as much as he wished he could, Seth knew he couldn’t do that alone.
First, he had to see who the fuck had texted Bob during their scuffle.
As Seth sprinted to the vehicle and yanked the door open, he threw the tranq gun in the back seat and hauled himself behind the wheel. He settled the pouch on the passenger seat, jammed the key into the ignition, and peeled out of the lot. As he pulled onto the street, he tugged Bob’s phone from his pocket, entered the passcode with trembling fingers, and saw a text from Specter.
A single question mark.
Seth’s gut tightened. Gene wanted confirmation that Bob had offed him, his best friend’s son, the kid he’d known since he was eight years old.
Too bad for Gene that the former cop who turned vigilante, who had left his badge behind years ago, intended to both save his loved ones and kill the motherfucker—no matter what it took.
As he drove, Seth skimmed the message thread between Specter and Bob. Short. Clipped. Professional. No emotion, no detail. Just efficient communication between crooked men with a common criminal purpose.
Cursing, Seth typed a response.
Target down. All secure.
He hit Send without hesitation.
Then he floored it, tires screeching as he rocketed away from the storage facility. Adrenaline spiked through his veins, sharp and electric. His hands shook on the wheel.
Seth forced himself to breathe. Forced himself to focus.
The leather slid across the passenger seat—proof he suspected would take down Gene and his entire organization. Evidence his father had posthumously protected for the past sixteen years.
The text he’d just sent would buy him a little time—hopefully enough to game plan and execute. But Gene wasn’t stupid. Soon enough, he’d figure out that Bob was dead, and he’d been played. And once Gene realized that, he wouldn’t wait. He’d act—swiftly and brutally.
Fatally.
Because now, Gene had nothing to lose.
Tamping down his panic, Seth grabbed his own phone and dialed Matt.
His brother answered on the second ring. “Hey, what’s?—”
“Shut up and listen carefully.” Seth cut him off. “Gene Hammond killed Dad.”
Silence.
“Gene knows I found Dad’s evidence this morning. He’s been running a criminal organization for decades, hiding behind his badge. That’s what had my head fucked up earlier—not the baby. And everyone is still at the house with him.”
“Fuck,” Matt breathed.
“I just offed Bob Ellis in the parking lot after he tried to tranq me. Once Gene realizes his guy failed, he’s going to assume I know everything. And then…” Seth couldn’t finish that sentence.
“What do you need?” Matt’s voice sharpened.
“Get a gun. Get back to the house. I’ll be there. Stay out of Gene’s sight.”
