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“Let’s go.” I’m already moving toward the door, impatience driving my steps, every nerve in my body tightened like a coil. “We’re running out of time. Less talky, Banks.”
We exit the firm and ignore the startled glances from employees as we rush toward the elevators. My pulse races faster with every step, knowing that everything—Mia’s safety, Harper’s peace of mind, our entire future—depends on what happens next.
Tonight, we’re taking Micah Rhodes down. And I’ll make damn sure he never harms anyone again.
* * *
The sleek blackSUV slices through traffic, Nick at the wheel, navigating the chaos of Manhattan like a race car driver. Asher sits up front, coordinating with his friend at the FBI through clipped phone calls, confirming their tactical approach and planning the extraction.
I’m quiet, rigid in the back seat. My fists are clenched so tight that my knuckles ache. Every passing second is torture. My heartbeat is a relentless drum as Harper’s pretty face flashes through my mind.
“Hey.” Nick’s voice interrupts my thoughts from the front seat, his gaze flicking up briefly to meet mine in the rearview mirror. “You okay back there?”
“Fine,” I reply.
“Yeah,” Nick says dryly, taking a sharp turn that jolts us all sideways. “You’re the picture of Zen.”
Asher snorts, still focused on his phone. “He’s about five seconds from punching through the door and sprinting there like a fucking Terminator.”
“Not helpful,” I mutter.
Asher looks back at me with a smile. “If you need a pep talk, I can put Billie on speaker.”
“Jesus,” Nick groans, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Don’t threaten us like that.”
Despite myself, a low laugh escapes me, easing some of my tension. Nick grins, clearly satisfied that he broke me.
“That’s better,” he says, checking the GPS on the dashboard. “At least we know you’re not fully robotic yet.”
“Close enough,” Asher says, shooting me a look. “If you need a motivational speech, I’m sure I could come up with something.”
“I’m motivated enough,” I say.
My jaw tightens when we leave the city behind. The glowing lights are replaced by darkness as the SUV barrels steadily toward our target.
Nick navigates onto the interstate, and silence falls again.
Asher finishes another call, finally lowering his phone and sighing deeply. “I’m going to owe my friend a huge favor,” he announces. “He’s got a team and is going rogue to help us.”
“Great,” I say. “Rogue FBI agents. Just what we need.”
“Focus, boys. Micah won’t make it easy,” Nick warns. “Cornered men make desperate moves.”
“So do we,” I tell him.
I lean back into the seat; my gaze is focused forward. Harper’s fear, Billie’s panic on her twenty-first birthday—it all blends into raw, simmering rage that demands resolution.
Justice, not revenge, I repeat to myself, even though I want blood.
29
BRODY
The SUV speeds down the dark highway, headlights cutting through the thick night. We’ve been on the road, traveling west for over an hour. Heavy clouds cover the moon, making the darkness feel more oppressive than usual. Shadowy trees zoom by, and Asher’s face lights up every now and then from the blue glow of his phone as he quickly types out messages.
I clench my jaw and focus straight ahead. Deep down, I know we’re doing the right thing. Sure, we could’ve called the local police to check out the property, but the bodyguard in me, trained to protect, knows that cops get bogged down in red tape, especially when Micah has so many people in his pocket. The last thing we need is for anyone to tip him off.
“What’s on your mind?” Nick asks.