Without warning, Hudson leaned in and wrapped his arms around them both. He held them tight, just like Seth would have done. Heavenly’s heart squeezed.
They sat together, clinging for long moments—three people in the shadow of a monster’s gun, living in the moment and trying to hold on when hope felt impossible.
Heavenly kept the news about the baby to herself. Gene would twist it into a weapon, a bargaining chip, to destroy Seth from the inside out.
For now, she simply prayed they’d all live long enough to tell Grace.
“Jesus, spare me emotional broads.” Gene’s voice sliced through the moment like an ax. “Dry your fucking tears and shut up. I’ve heard enough bellyaching, and Seth is almost here.”
At that, they jerked apart. Heavenly’s heart leapt to her throat. Seth was close?
Scowling, Gene checked his phone. Then he cursed as if he didn’t like whatever he was seeing.
Dangerous hope flared as the crooked cop’s thumbs flew across his screen.
His phone lit up once, twice. Then the screen lit up again and again with incoming texts.
Gene answered them quickly, his expression shifting from agitation to focus. Then a slow smile of satisfaction spread across his face.
Heavenly’s heart threatened to stop.
That expression said that Gene’s fate had turned. He’d set his scheme in motion, and it was working. She’d bet he was calling in reinforcements to put down Seth before he could even get near the house. And they were responding.
Gene wasn’t working alone anymore.
Horror washed over her. How could she warn Seth, send him some signal that wouldn’t get them all killed? Gene had taken their phones, blocked all their exits, and cut them off from the outside world. And Seth was outnumbered, outgunned, and unaware of the overwhelming danger he was about to face.
With a grim expression, Gene pocketed his phone. “That fucking bastard blew up my entire operation in a single morning, and I’m going to repay him by making sure he dies after watching me off each and every one of you.” Then he pointed his gun directly at Heavenly. “You first.”
As Seth approached his mother’s neighborhood, he fought every instinct screaming at him to floor it and crash through the front door. But Gene knew he was coming. If he hadn’t already, he was calling for backup. He had hostages. He had control.
But Seth had one advantage: he knew the house in a way Gene never would. Every inch of it. Every blind spot, every angle, every way in and out.
He would use that to his advantage—minimize risks as much as possible—then proceed with caution and save his loved ones. He couldn’t what-if himself into a mindfuck that would cripple him.
And he sure as hell wouldn’t fail again.
Letting out a rough breath, Seth turned onto his mother’s street and tucked the SUV behind the neighbor’s conversion van three houses down, shielding the vehicle from the front-facing windows of his childhood home.
He killed the engine. Then his stare fell on the leather pouch in the passenger seat. He hesitated. Damn it, he couldn’t leave this goldmine of evidence in his car. Anyone, especially Gene’s goons, could break in and steal the only proof of Gene’s corruption. He had to stash it someplace where Gene couldn’t reach it, would never think to look for it.
He’d have to figure something out. One problem at a time.
For now, Seth shoved the leather pouch under his arm and slipped out of the car.
It was a seemingly typical Sunday afternoon, quiet as sunlight filtered through the trees. A couple walked their dog. A few doors down, a man mowed his lawn.
Today, the quiet felt like its own kind of threat.
Seth didn’t hesitate. He crouched low to the ground as he cut through the neighbors’ yards, using trees and overgrown hedges for cover. Pounding heartbeats later, he advanced, darting for the old oak tree his dad had planted when Seth was five. Finally, he tucked himself behind the thick shrubs he and his brothers had hated trimming every summer.
After dragging in a ragged breath, Seth sprinted to the side of the house without sight lines to the front door and pressed his back against the cool vinyl siding. Then slowly, he inched to the front edge of the house and peeked around the corner.
The family room drapes were closed. Seth’s gut clenched. Grace Cooper opened those curtains every morning. She loved the natural light. So seeing them shut this early in the afternoon was like a neon sign flashing Danger.
Gene had done it purely to lock his loved ones in and to prevent Seth’s visual recon.
Fuck you.
