“I know,” he says. “We do this clean. We get her. Then you can break whatever you want.”
I nod once. Barely. We split. Shark and his man take left, cutting toward the van. I take right, angling for the stairs and the man holding Rowan. I cover the distance fast. The first attacker spots me and reaches for his weapon. I fire once. I hit. A round into the shoulder. He drops with a scream, weapon skittering across the tarmac.
The second man shoves Rowan toward the stairs and lunges at me. I dodge, close in, and drive my forearm into his throat. He staggers back, choking.
Rowan stumbles, off balance. I grab her at the waist and pull her behind me, keeping my body between her and everything.
She gasps my name like it’s oxygen. “Sin.”
My hands shake as I cut the zip ties on her wrists with my knife. “You hurt.”
“No,” she whispers, voice cracking. “I thought… I thought you…”
“Still here,” I say. “Always.”
Footsteps pound from inside the jet. Grant appears at the top of the stairs, calm as ever, coat pristine, eyes flat and furious. He looks down at the scene with mild annoyance, like we ruined his dinner reservation. “Hawthorne,” he calls, voice carrying. “You’re making a mistake.”
I keep my weapon trained on him. “Step down. Hands visible.”
Grant smiles. “You really think you can arrest me on a runway.”
Cal’s voice in my ear. “Sin, delay him. I’ve got county units two minutes out. We already tipped the right people. He’s not walking.”
Grant’s gaze flicks toward the perimeter, as if he senses the net tightening. He pulls a phone from his pocket, taps once, and the jet’s engine pitch rises. He’s trying to taxi.
I move one step forward, gun steady. “Tell the pilot to cut the engines.”
Grant’s smile widens. “Or what?”
Rowan’s hand grips my arm, tight. I feel her shaking. Not with weakness. With fury. “I know who you are,” she spits up the stairs. “I’ve been chasing your name for months.”
Grant looks down at her like she’s a gnat. “And now you’ve caught it. Congratulations.”
Rowan steps forward, and I tighten my hold on her elbow. She doesn’t fight me. She just tilts her chin up, eyes blazing. “You can’t erase the truth,” she says.
Grant’s eyes harden. “I can erase you.” He nods once to someone inside the plane.
A man appears behind him, raising a gun. I fire immediately. The round hits the man’s forearm. The gun drops. He screams and collapses back into the cabin.
Grant’s expression flickers for the first time. Surprise. Then anger. He reaches into his coat.
I don’t hesitate.
I take him down with one shot. Grant crashes onto the stairs with a shout, hands flailing, blood dark against the metal.
Rowan flinches, then steadies, eyes locked on him.
Shark’s voice comes through my headset. “Van secure. Two suspects down, one cuffed. Pilot is contained.”
Cal’s voice follows. “County is on approach. Airfield is locked. Great work.”
I keep my weapon trained on Grant as I climb the stairs, step over him, and put cuffs on his wrists.
He glares up at me, teeth bared. “You think you won,” he spits out.
I lean close, voice low. “You took the wrong woman.”
Grant’s eyes flick toward Rowan below.
