Chapter 45
forty-five
. . .
FINN
We mobilized quickly after the Tuck bomb dropped. Lane made calls, summoning his deputies to the station for a briefing before heading out on our rescue mission.
Owen and Aspen headed back to the ranch, much to Aspen’s dismay. She hated to miss out on the action, but as she didn’t have any formal training beyond the classes she’d taken to get her concealed carry permit, she was more of a liability than anything.
Lane had imparted that bit of wisdom, which pissed Aspen off so much Crew had to carry her out to the car before she started swinging.
I made all the appropriate noises and said all the right things, assuring Lane we’d meet them there, that West and I had to run home to get geared up.
He didn’t need to know I wouldn’t be going anywhere near the station—unless he arrested me after the fact for what I was about to do.
I’d been planning on filling West in on the drive, but I was unsurprised when he sidled up beside me and murmured, “You’re about to go rogue, aren’t you?”
“This is my girl we’re talking about here. You didn’t really think I was going to let Deputy Dipshit lead the charge, did you?”
West’s answering grin was feral, and he lifted his fist for a bump, which I obliged.
Unfortunately, while Lane seemed none the wiser to my plans, I hadn’t managed to dupe Trey and Crew.
“We’ll ride with you,” Trey—who was already outfitted in his tactical gear and weapons—said as West and I went to leave.
“Yeah,” Crew agreed. “Mind swinging by my house?”
“We don’t have time for that.”
Crew snorted.
“We know you’re going rogue, brother,” Trey said, ruffling my hair. I socked him in the arm. “And we’re coming with you.”
“No.” West uttered the rejection before I could.
“Then we’ll tell Lane,” Crew said.
“Oh, you’re going to tell big brother on us? Get the fuck out of here. I don’t have time for this bullshit.”
“We get it, Finn. This is your girl, and all of your military training is telling you there isn’t time to waste. Lane has to abide by the letter of the law, but none of us are bound by the same oath. Let us help.”
I glanced between them, finally landing on Crew. “You don’t even have formal training.”
He shrugged, then flexed his biceps like a douchebag. “I think I’ll be okay.”
West caught my eye. Up to you.
I suppose the four of us are better than two.
“Fine,” I conceded. “But I’m in charge here, got it?”
They both mock saluted, and I rolled my eyes as we got in the truck.
“See you at the station!” Lane called as he pulled away.
After three quick detours for Crew, West, and I to gear up, we were on our way back to the airport.
The sun was cresting the horizon when we parked in front of the hangar. When we walked inside, I began going through my preflight checks while the other three tossed around ideas for our best course of action to get my girl back from Tuck.
Fucking Tuck.
I was still having difficulty wrapping my mind around the fact that Tuck, certified goofball and seemingly good guy, was responsible for Lainey’s four-month absence and abducting my girl. I never would’ve imagined him capable of such things.
Although, it did make a certain amount of sense when I stopped to consider it—not that I’d had a lot of time to do so since his identity had been revealed.
But Tuck…he’d always floated on the fringes.
There, but easily forgettable. He didn’t immediately command attention the moment he walked into a room.
Now that I knew he’d been behind everything, the pieces of the whole puzzle started clicking together in my mind.
Thinking back, I did vaguely remember him being at the Swallow the night I met Reagan.
As a firefighter, he had intimate knowledge of the cameras in town—and their blind spots—which had made it easy to slip that note under her windshield wiper without anyone noticing.
Not to mention access to incapacitating drugs.
For each of the major incidents—Aria’s attack and Reagan’s accident—he’d been off shift. Hell, he’d responded to Reagan’s accident scene, acting like he was there to help when he’d been the one who caused it.
The second Reagan and Lainey were safe, I was putting a bullet in his head.
Checks complete, we loaded into the rescue chopper instead of my Cessna in case the girls needed to be airlifted out, a possibility I considered with as much detachment as I could muster.
Once we took off a few minutes later, West pulled up the area of the Tucker farmhouse on the nav system. Thanks to the paperwork Aspen had gone through back at the house, we knew the Tuck was the titleholder on an apartment in town as well as family land that had been passed down for generations.
Yeah, the farmhouse Reagan had seen in her dream was real. Though they’d pieced off what had originally been hundreds of acres of land over the years, the old Tucker farmhouse and a few outbuildings sat on the sizable parcel that remained.
I knew without a doubt that’s where Reagan and Lainey were being held, and I knew Lane would split his men into two teams. Half of them would head to the farmhouse, half to the apartment.
Maybe I’d get lucky and he’d go to town himself, not finding out I’d taken matters into my own hands until after the fact.
Despite the terror that had been coursing through my veins nonstop since I realized Reagan was missing, my hands were steady as ever on the cyclic stick and controls.
My headset crackled to life as West spoke, gesturing to the navigation screen.
“If we’re going for stealth, I’d touch down here.” He pointed at a clearing about half a mile from the house itself. “If not, park this bird in the backyard.”
“Stealth,” I said immediately. “I’m not taking chances with Reagan and Lainey’s lives.”
As we closed in on the landing point, my nerves ratcheted up again.
I took a deep breath, hoping to steady myself, but it accomplished nothing.
I tried to remind myself that West and I had pulled off missions more dangerous than this more times than I could count.
That Trey had spent nearly a decade guarding the President’s back, that Crew walked into literal burning hell every day to save lives. One man was nothing.
But it felt different. I felt…listless without Reagan. Knowing she was in danger made it difficult to get a full breath of air into my lungs, like a weight sat on my chest that wouldn’t lift until she was back in my arms.
I set the chopper down in the field West had indicated, and we got out, taking a minute to ensure we had all the weaponry we needed, and that our tactical vests were properly secured and covering what they needed.
Before we set off toward the house, West dropped a hand on my shoulder.
“Chill,” he murmured. “You’re fucking vibrating.”
“We’ve already wasted too much time,” I muttered in response, double and triple checking that all of my holsters were filled.
With a single target to contend with, I didn’t anticipate a shootout, so I may have gone overboard, but I wasn’t fucking around where my girl was concerned.
“While I don’t disagree, you’re not going to do those women any good if you don’t have your head on straight.”
Fuck, I knew he was right. His fingers dug into my skin, and I let the pressure ground me, closing my eyes and attempting to marshal my heartbeat. When they popped open again, I was surprised to feel calmer.
Cell signal out here was spotty, but we’d all wore radios tuned to the police frequency. At the moment, we were out of range, but I didn’t doubt Lane would chew our asses out the moment he could reach us.
We hiked toward the house, sticking to wooded areas as best as we could. The forest around us was still, the sky a pale golden blanket overhead. Daylight would make this both easier and harder.
At last, the house appeared about a hundred yards ahead. We stopped, and Trey got out a set of binoculars.
“Nothing going on that I can see,” he said, lowering them. “I’m gonna do a sweep.”
“I’ll go with you,” Crew volunteered. “We’ll go in on opposite sides, then loop back.”
“No,” I said, stopping them. “We’ll get close together and recon from there.”
We followed the edge of the forest, which provided excellent cover as we neared.
From a distance, there didn’t appear to be anything wrong with the house.
Up close, though, the disrepair was obvious.
Tuck clearly didn’t care about routine maintenance.
The yard was beyond overgrown, likely tall enough to reach my knees or higher, and a gnarled apple tree shaded the corner.
White trim was chipped and weathered grey, the evergreen-painted siding now faded and buried under several layers of dirt.
The porch sagged dangerously in the middle, one of the railings on its steps completely gone, the other hanging on through what appeared to be sheer will and an interesting trick of gravity.
A nearby outbuilding, which had likely once been a garage, was missing its door and had a large crater in the roof.
In the gravel lot out front, about thirty yards from where we stood, sat an ancient camper truck with its tailgate down. I couldn’t tell if there was anything in the bed. Otherwise, there appeared to be no signs of life anywhere on the property.
Fury—a rage unlike anything I’d ever experienced before—boiled in my veins. What kind of sick fuck abducted women and held them hostage? And in a place like this, which seemed barely inhabitable for small critters, let alone humans?
“I’m going to kill him,” I seethed through clenched teeth, taking half a step forward.
West’s arm shot out, barring my progress. “You can’t.”
“Like hell.”
“Finn,” West pleaded, and I finally looked at him. “Not without recon. You know better.”
I turned to my brothers, ready to direct them out on said recon mission when our radios sprang to life, startling me.
I’d forgotten we wore them.
“Earth to Dumb and Dumber, and the other two brothers” Lane said, his irritation evident. “Where the fuck are you?”
“Took a little walk,” Trey replied levelly, relaying what we saw.
When he finished, Lane demanded our exact location, told us to stay put, and went silent.
“He’s going to get them killed if he doesn’t start moving with some fucking urgency,” I said as we waited for the sheriff’s arrival, my nerves completely frazzled, energy coursing like electricity through my body.
We must have been closer to the road than I realized because a few minutes later, Lane crashed through the undergrowth, Addie in tow.
“I’ve got half the team going around back,” Lane said when he reached us, not bothering to reprimand us for ignoring his instructions. “The other half is moving up the access road as we speak. Sutton is on standby.”
“We came out in the chopper, should we need it.”
He nodded. “Has there been any movement?”
I shook my head.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to let my team breach—”
I cut him off. “Fuck no. I’m first in the door.”
“You’re a civilian, Finn. I can’t allow that.”
I fucking hated the bureaucratic bullshit Lane pulled when it came to stuff like this. If he let us go, Trey, West, and I would have Lainey and Reagan home already. But noooooo. We had to operate within the constraints of the law.
Well, fuck the law. I may have retired, but I was still a goddamn soldier.
“I’m going in of my own free will,” I protested. “No liability on you.”
My brother ran his hand down his face. I could tell he wanted to fight with me, but there was no good reason for it—and we were only wasting more time. He glanced at the rest of our brothers and Addie. “You’ll vouch for me if this blows up in my face?”
West grinned. “You got it, Sheriff.” My twin nudged me with an elbow. “I’ve got your six.”
“Y’all scare me,” Addie admitted.
Trey winked. “You get used to it.”
To our left, a group of four deputies led by Johns appeared, slowly approaching the structure.
“Alright,” Lane said. “Let’s go.”
We’d barely cleared the tree line before shouts rang out from inside the house—followed by a gunshot.
Moving before my brain had given my body permission, I raced toward the house like my life depended on it. I was halfway across the yard when two figures appeared running for their lives. Lainey first, followed not too long after by Reagan.
I sagged in relief at laying eyes on my girl again.
“Reagan!”
Reagan’s eyes landed on me for a beat, but she didn’t slow or veer toward me.
“I’m okay!” she shouted back. Then, “He’s got a gun!”
I lifted my own in response. “Get clear! We’ve got this!”
She nodded and kept moving, running straight toward the group of deputies, who parted to let them through, then reformed a wall between them and the open doorway of the house.
Knowing she was safe, I returned my attention to the house.
Tuck appeared in the doorway, looming like some monster from a nightmare.
His right arm swung a pistol, waving it around like something as harmless as a water gun, while he screamed obscenities at the girls.
Blood dripped down his face from his nose, splashing into his mouth, garishly staining his gums and teeth as he grinned maniacally.
Lane took a step toward him.
“Don’t,” Trey insisted. “He’s fucking crazy.”
Lane looked at him over his shoulder, then spared each of us a glance in turn.
“I’ve got this,” he assured us.
Breaking further from our line, his gun never wavered as it remained trained on Tuck. When he spoke, Lane’s soft tone was entirely at odds with the tension gathered in the air around us like a thick storm cloud.
“Put the gun down, Tuck.”
Tuck laughed a bit hysterically, though he lowered his arm. “Fuck no.”
“Tuck,” Lane insisted. “It’s over. Put the gun down and come with us.”
“I’m not going to prison!” Tuck shouted. “I didn’t do anything wrong! They belong with me!”
My brother inched closer. “It’s over,” Lane repeated as he reached the bottom of the stairs, putting him within five feet of Tuck—point blank range for the Glock that, for the moment, hung at his side.
Meanwhile, Lane kept his sights on the center of Tuck’s chest, finger on the trigger, poised for any sudden movements.
Tuck continued muttering about how Lainey and Reagan were his, how he wasn’t giving them up.
Lane didn’t move closer or away, simply said, “It’s going to be okay, Tuck. I’m going to have one of these deputies cuff you and put you in a car. Then we’ll go to the station and talk, okay?”
Johns stepped forward, cuffs out, and climbed the steps.
Too fast. Too fucking fast.
“Stand down!” I shouted at Johns.
The warning came too late.
Before Lane could react, Tuck lifted his gun, pointed it at my brother, and fired.
As Lane was knocked backward from the force, my own weapon discharged, putting a hole in the center of Tuck’s forehead, as several more shots punctured holes in his chest.