“I trust you. Come get me.” Hanging up, I put the phone in my pocket and step on the gas. The truck fishtails gravel as I pull back onto the road.
Toward the warehouse.
Toward my sister.
Toward Turner.
78
MASON
The second the line goes dead.
I’m already pulling up Lily’s tracker on my phone with one hand and grabbing my rifle case with the other when Jake looks up from the ops table.
“What happened?”
My jaw locks so hard it aches. “Turner made contact.”
Jake goes still.
Luke swears under his breath behind me.
The tracker pulses across the screen, moving east.
Away from me.
Toward a kill box.
I chamber a round.
Because Lily asked me to come get her, and I always fucking will.
79
LILY
The warehouse sits on the edge of town like something abandoned by God years ago.
Corrugated metal. Broken windows. Rust streaking down the siding. One dim exterior light flickering over the loading dock.
I kill the engine but keep my hands on the wheel.
Think.
My pulse pounds so hard I have trouble hearing my thoughts over it. I press my thumbnail into the tip of my finger as I scan the property through the windshield. No visible vehicles. No movement. No guards.
Which means they’re inside, waiting.
I touch my phone, in my pocket.Mason’s coming. That thought steadies me enough to reach for the knife strapped against my ankle. I slip it free and tuck it into the back waistband of my jeans before climbing out of the truck.
Cold wind whips across the empty lot. Every instinct in my body screams at me to leave.
But then I think about Mandy—how I couldn’t help her thirteen years ago, but maybe now I can—and I move toward the warehouse.
The massive sliding door hangs partially open, darkness yawning beyond it. The smell hits hard—dust, oil, old grain, mildew.
“Mandy?” My voice echoes too loudly.
