Someone who wanted a war.
“And someone who knows her,” I add.
Because this wasn’t random.
This wasn’t business.
Someone planned this.
Carefully.
Personally.
They knew where Laney would run.
They knew who she would trust.
They knew exactly how to send killers into my home.
My jaw tightens.
“Find them.”
Trigger nods.
“We will.”
I glance toward the stairs.
Toward the safe room where Laney and Emmy are sleeping.
Whoever planned this thought they were hunting a frightened woman.
They didn’t realize they just walked into Ranger territory.
And now…
We’re hunting them.
9
Laney
Idon’t know what makes me think of it.
Maybe it’s the wordNew York.
Maybe it’s the way Saint saidpersonal.
But suddenly a memory pushes its way to the surface—sharp and unwanted.
And my stomach drops.
“She said she’d make it look like Marco.”
Saint looks at me instantly.
Sharp.
