CHAPTER 130
SKYLAR'S POV
The zip ties cut into my wrists, but I'd positioned my hands so that the knife strapped to my forearm was still accessible if I could just get the right angle. My father stood in front of me, looking exactly like the monster from my nightmares, except older and somehow more refined in his cruelty.
"You've grown up beautifully," he said, reaching out to touch my face. I jerked away, earning a backhand that split my lip. "Still defiant. Good. I was worried those boys had made you soft."
"They made me strong," I spat. "Strong enough to put you in the ground where you belong."
He laughed, the sound echoing off the concrete walls. "Strong? Sweetheart, you walked right into my trap. You're bound and helpless while I hold the lives of innocents in my hands. How exactly is that strong?"
I let my eyes drift to the corner where Claire sat unconscious, then to the small cage where a child cowered in terror. My father was right - I had walked into his trap. But that didn't mean I was helpless.
"You want to know what they taught me?" I asked, meeting his eyes. "They taught me that sometimes the only way to win is to be willing to lose everything."
His expression shifted slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. "Meaning?"
"Meaning I didn't come here to negotiate. I came here to end this."
I twisted my wrist, feeling the knife handle press against my palm. Almost there. Just a little more movement and I could cut through the plastic restraints.
"Even if it means those girls die?" He gestured toward the cage. "Even if it means your friend Claire never sees another sunrise?"
The question hit me like a physical blow. This was the choice he'd always forced on me - submit to his will or watch innocent people suffer for my defiance. It was the same psychological torture that had controlled me for eighteen years.
But I wasn't eighteen anymore. And I wasn't alone.
"Those girls are going to die anyway," I said quietly. "You and I both know you never intended to let them live. They've seen too much, know too much. The only difference is whether they die as victims or as casualties of war."
"Such a cold calculation. I'm proud of you."
"Don't be. Because the other thing the guys taught me is that monsters like you always underestimate the people they think they own."
I heard footsteps in the corridor outside. My father's men moved to defensive positions, but their attention was focused on the door. They expected Harry, Jax, and Lucas to come charging through like avenging angels.
They didn't expect me to be the weapon.
I finally managed to grip the knife handle properly and began sawing through the zip ties. The plastic was thick, but the blade was sharp and I'd learned patience in the months since my father's "death."
"They're here," one of his men reported. "Three targets, heavily armed."
"Let them come," my father said, never taking his eyes off me. "Let them see what happens to people who try to take what belongs to me."
The zip ties parted just as the lights went out.
Emergency lighting kicked in a second later, bathing everything in hellish red. I rolled sideways as gunfire erupted, using the chaos to free my hands completely. My father was shouting orders, his men were scrambling for position, and somewhere in the darkness, I could hear Harry's voice giving commands.
I stayed low, moving toward the cage where the child was trapped. If I could get her to safety, it would be one less innocent life hanging in the balance.
"Going somewhere?" My father's voice came from directly behind me.
I spun around to find him pointing a gun at my head, his finger already on the trigger. In the red emergency lighting, his face looked demonic, all harsh shadows and cruel lines.
"You always were too predictable," he said. "Always trying to save everyone else before yourself. It's a weakness, Skylar. One that's going to get you killed."
"Maybe," I agreed. "But at least I'll die knowing I'm nothing like you."
The gunshot was deafeningly loud in the confined space, but the bullet didn't hit me. Instead, my father staggered forward, blood blooming across his chest as Jax emerged from the shadows behind him.
"Nobody touches our girl," Jax said coldly, his smoking gun trained on my father's back.
But Jack Mitchell had survived this long by being prepared for everything. As he fell, his hand closed around a detonator that had been hidden in his jacket.
"If I can't have her," he gasped, blood frothing at his lips, "then nobody can."
The detonator beeped once, twice, then began a steady countdown.
"Bomb!" Lucas shouted from somewhere in the chaos. "Everyone out! Now!"
I grabbed the cage key from my father's belt and freed the terrified child, scooping her up as Harry and Lucas fought their way through the remaining guards. Jax was already moving toward Claire, cutting her restraints with swift, efficient movements.
"Thirty seconds!" Lucas yelled.
We ran through the corridors as the building shook around us, dust and debris falling from the ceiling with each step. Behind us, I could hear my father's laughter echoing through the warehouse, growing fainter as we climbed toward the surface.
The child in my arms was crying, her small body trembling with terror. Claire was semiconscious, leaning heavily on Jax as he half-carried her toward the exit. Harry and Lucas flanked us, their weapons trained on every shadow and doorway.
"Fifteen seconds!"
We burst through the main entrance just as the first explosion rocked the building. The shockwave knocked us all to the ground, and I curled my body around the child as debris rained down around us.
When the dust settled, the warehouse was gone. In its place was a crater surrounded by twisted metal and burning rubble. If there had been any other girls in the building, any other victims...
"The other facilities," I said urgently, struggling to my feet. "The photos I took. We have to get to the other locations before they move the operations."
Harry helped me up, his hands gentle despite the urgency of our situation. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine. But we need to move fast. My father's death won't stop this network - it'll just make them more careful."
Lucas was already on his phone, calling in favors and organizing simultaneous raids on every location I'd photographed. But as I watched the warehouse burn, I couldn't shake the feeling that this victory had come at too high a price.
My father was dead, but in killing him, had I become exactly what he'd always wanted me to be?
The question would have to wait. Right now, there were more girls to save.
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