More static.
I didn’t wait. I flung the door open before we fully stopped and hit the ground running. I took the clubhouse steps three at a time, shoved the doors open, and?—
Chaos.
Ariel was screaming from down the hall. Doc was halfway through the corridor, shouting orders. One of the guys, Coyote, had blood pouring from his nose. Brutus was tearing open doors, yelling Amanda’s name.
Cap’s voice cracked like thunder:
“AMANDA’S TAKEN!”
My whole body locked.
It felt like the fucking world cracked in half.
I turned so fast my vision blurred and slammed Coyote into the wall.
“What happened?!”
He whimpered—blood, panic, everything leaking out of him at once.
“Two guys—masks—chloroform—fuck, man—they knew where she’d be—they waited for the moment Ariel left—they said—” His voice broke. “They said to tell you:‘The elevator opens for everyone eventually.’”
Something in me snapped.
I dropped him and hit the floor with my fists, hard enough to rattle the fucking walls. The rage didn’t even feel like rage. It felt like grief trying to escape through my knuckles.
Ghost burst through the door seconds later.
His eyes scanned the room once.
The bodies.
The blood.
Me on my knees, fists bleeding, chest heaving.
“…Scout?” he asked, voice already sharpening.
“Amanda,” Cap growled.
Ghost went still.
The kind of still that happens before something dies.
He whispered, “I’ll kill them all.”
I pushed to my feet, panting.
That fucking note. The rag. The exact timing. This wasn’t random.
This was surgical.
Targeted.
For me.
For her.
