CHAPTER 128
The trap became obvious the moment we turned the corner toward the warehouse district. Too many cars parked in strategic positions, too many shadows that moved wrong, too many "maintenance workers" who kept their heads down when we passed.
"This is a setup," I said into my comm, watching a van that had been following us for the past ten minutes pull into an alley ahead of us.
"I know," Harry's voice crackled back from the car behind us. "Question is, do we abort or do we spring it on our terms?"
I looked at Lucas, who was driving our vehicle, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. "Those college girls are still in there. If we leave now..."
"They die," he finished grimly. "And probably the others too."
Through my earpiece, I could hear Jax's voice from the third car. "Multiple vehicles converging on our position. At least eight, maybe more."
My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. I opened it and felt my blood turn cold.
"Stop the car," I said urgently.
"What?" Lucas asked, but I was already showing him the phone screen.
The message was simple: "Come alone or they all die. You know where." Below it was a photo of a small girl, maybe twelve years old, chained to a radiator in what looked like a basement.
"Son of a bitch," Lucas breathed.
I pressed my comm button. "Change of plans. They have a kid. I'm going in alone."
"Like hell you are," came Harry's immediate response.
"Skylar, no," Jax added. "It's obviously a trap."
"Of course it's a trap. But it's also a twelve-year-old girl who's going to die if I don't show up." I was already checking my weapons, making sure everything was secure. "Look, we knew this was going to happen eventually. My father wants me, not you. Use that."
"We're not leaving you," Lucas said firmly, even as he pulled into an abandoned parking lot.
"You're not leaving me. You're giving me tactical support." I opened the car door, my mind already racing through possibilities. "I go in the front, you three hit them from behind. Classic pincer movement."
Before any of them could argue further, another text came through. This one made my heart stop completely.
"Claire sends her regards. - Dad"
The photo attached showed Claire tied to a chair, blood running down her face, terror in her eyes. Whether I trusted her or not, she was just a kid from my old school. She didn't deserve this.
"He has Claire too," I said, showing them the message.
Harry's voice came through the comm, deadly quiet. "How did he know about Claire?"
The realization hit all of us at the same time. Claire hadn't just randomly shown up at our house. She'd been working for my father all along, feeding him information about our routines, our security, our weaknesses. And now that we'd gone underground, he didn't need her anymore.
"She was the leak," Jax said. "The whole time."
"Which means he knows everything about our plans, our safe houses, our backup identities." Lucas ran his hands through his hair. "We're completely exposed."
My phone rang. I answered it on speaker.
"Hello, sweetheart." My father's voice filled the car, sickeningly familiar. "I hope you're enjoying the photos."
"Let them go," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "This is between you and me."
"Is it? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you've involved quite a few innocent people in our family drama. The college girls, little Claire, that sweet twelve-year-old we picked up from the foster home..."
"What do you want?"
"I want my daughter back. The warehouse on Fifth Street, level B2. Come alone, unarmed, and we'll discuss terms for their release."
"And if I don't?"
His laugh was like broken glass. "Then I start sending you pieces of them, beginning with the youngest."
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone for a moment, feeling the familiar cold rage settling over me. This was exactly the kind of psychological warfare my father excelled at - using innocent people as leverage, forcing me to choose between my own safety and the lives of others.
"It's a trap," Lucas said unnecessarily.
"Obviously."
"You're still going in," Harry observed.
"Obviously."
Jax's voice came through the comm. "Then we're coming with you."
"No." I got out of the car and started walking toward the warehouse. "He's expecting that. He's counting on my attachment to you to make me predictable."
"Skylar!" Lucas called, but I kept walking.
"Give me ten minutes," I said into my comm. "If you don't hear from me by then, assume I'm compromised and get the hell out of here."
"We're not leaving you," Harry said fiercely.
"Yes, you are. Because if he gets all of us, those girls die. And I won't have their deaths on my conscience."
I reached the warehouse entrance and paused, my hand on the door handle. Through my earpiece, I could hear the guys arguing about whether to follow me or respect my wishes. Part of me wanted them to ignore my orders and come charging in after me. But the smarter part knew that if this was going to work, I had to trust them to do the right thing at the right time.
"I love you," I said into the comm. "All of you. Remember that."
"Skylar, don't you dare—"
I pulled out my earpiece and dropped it on the ground, crushing it under my heel. Then I opened the door and walked into the darkness.
The warehouse was silent except for the sound of my footsteps echoing off concrete and steel. Emergency lighting cast everything in harsh shadows, and I could smell the familiar scents of fear and desperation that seemed to follow my father wherever he went.
"Level B2," I muttered to myself, finding the stairwell.
As I descended, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was walking into more than just a trap. This felt like an ending - either of the war between me and my father, or of the life I'd built with the three men I loved.
The basement level was a maze of corridors and storage rooms, but I followed the sound of muffled crying until I found what I was looking for. A heavy metal door with voices behind it - scared voices, young voices, and underneath it all, my father's calm, measured tone.
I took a deep breath, checked my hidden weapons one last time, and opened the door.
What I found inside was worse than anything I'd imagined.
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