Andy squared his shoulders, the movement small but deliberate. His hands clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening. “No. I’m not doing anything until I know Tess is okay. Just—just let me hear her. Then I’ll do whatever you want.”
The silence that followed was heavy, deliberate.
Andy’s breath hitched. Fear crept back into his face as the seconds dragged on. He stabbed the mute button. “What happened?” His voice cracked. “What do I do?”
“You’re doing fine,” Brian said, steady and certain, before unmuting the phone again.
There was a brief scuffing sound—movement, fabric shifting—then a breath.
“A-Andy?”
At the sound of his sister’s voice, his shoulders sagged in relief. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t get the chance to answer.
“See?” Diego cut in. “She’s alive. For now.” He paused, letting the threat sink in. “I’m texting you the details. Get it done—or you get her back in pieces. You’ve got one hour, Bing.”
The line went dead.
Moments later, a text came through with the account details—numbers for both incoming and outgoing transfers—along with the rest of what Andy would need to do the job. It arrived too fast to have been anything but copied and pasted.
On the heels of that came another text.
Unknown Caller
Clock is ticking
His gaze shifting from one man to the next, Andy stood in silence as Brian watched him carefully—watched the way his shoulders hunched, the way his jaw clenched. Sixteen—a month away from seventeen. Christ. He was still a kid. A smart one, sure—but still a kid who should have been worrying about video games and when he could see his girlfriend next, not negotiating with a gang leader over his sister’s life.
“Now what?” Andy asked.
After setting the one-hour timer on his own phone, Brian met the kid’s gaze. “Now we go save Tess.”
A wicked grin spread across Sean’s face as he got to his feet. “Yee-haw! The Malone brothers ride again.” He glanced at Brian and Rafe, then shrugged. “Well, minus a SEAL, plus an adopted Statie. Two out of three ain’t bad.”
“Donotstart belting out Meatloaf, little brother.” Brian winked at Andy, trying to keep the levity in the room for his sake. “He can’t sing for shit.”
The corners of Andy’s mouth twitched, but a smile never appeared. Brian understood far too well that this wasn’t something humor could fix. He turned toward the door. As the text had said, the clock was ticking. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 31
Pulling up to the curb in front of Malone’s Hardware, Brian put his truck in Park but didn’t kill the engine. The idle sent a low, steady vibration through the cab—something solid to anchor himself to when everything else felt like it was coming apart. Like most of the shops lining Main Street, the store was already closed for the night, the interior dim except for the low blue glow of the security lights.
Outside, the street was still very much awake. Cars rolled past at an easy pace, with their windows down, and music drifted faintly through open doors farther along the block. People strolled up and down the sidewalk. Restaurants filled, voices and laughter carrying on the warm, salt-heavy air. It was that in-between hour where the day hadn’t given up yet, but the night advanced behind it.
Rafe shifted in the front passenger seat, his fingers flying over his phone’s screen as he texted back and forth with the SBI’s SRT—Special Response Team. Calling in backup was a risk they couldn’t avoid, but it would stay off the radio. No chatter. No broadcast. No contacting the local police. The fewer people who knew what was happening, the better the odds that Diego and his crew wouldn’t realize law enforcement was already breathing down their throats.
Ahonk, honksounded just as Sean drove past them, heading toward Kingsby to scope out the location. They would need to get as much info as possible before staging a rescue, and time wasn’t a luxury.
Above the hardware store, Uncle Dan’s apartment windows reflected the pale sky. Andy would be safe there, but Brian had a feeling the kid would fight him over it.
From the back seat came restless movement—knees bouncing, the upholstery creaking, anger crowding the air like heat.
“I’m not staying here. I’m going with you.” The words came sharp and loud in the confined space. Andy leaned forward between the seats, face flushed, eyes blazing, hands gripping the headrests like he might tear them loose.
They’d already had this argument back on the beach house’s porch. Brian closed his eyes for half a second, long enough to keep his temper leashed. Andjust long enough to remind himself this wasn’t defiance—it was fear looking for somewhere to land.
“Yes, you are.”
