Chapter 25
SAWYER
I stretch, body sore in the best way, and finally roll out of bed, padding down the hall. The low hum of voices drifts from the living room—Jasper, Riot, and maybe Silas, all in low, urgent tones. Probably combing through new updates, hunting for shadows.
I leave them to it, slipping into the kitchen. The smell of coffee and bacon hits me first, a little slice of normal after chaos. Macee is at the counter in an oversized hoodie, fussing with her phone, a big plate of bacon cooling on the table.
She looks up and grins when she sees me, her eyes bright and a little too knowing. “Well, well. Sleeping Beauty emerges.”
I plop down across from her, grabbing a piece of bacon and taking a greedy bite. “Beauty is a strong word for what I look like right now.”
She laughs, sliding the plate closer. “Rough night?”
I give her a look, my cheeks warming, and she wiggles her eyebrows. “I won’t ask, but if you want to share…”
I shake my head, chewing bacon, and sigh. “Let’s just say I think I’ll be walking funny for the next week.”
She cackles, the sound filling the kitchen with easy warmth. “That’s my girl.”
For a moment, everything feels almost normal—just two friends, bacon, and a little stolen peace.
Macee pours herself another cup of coffee, eyes twinkling over the rim. “So, should I warn the guys to reinforce the bed frames around here, or is that only necessary when all three of you are in one place?”
I snort, snatching another piece of bacon. “Honestly, if anyone’s going to break a bed frame, it’s going to be Jace and his big ego—he takes up more space than a California king.”
Macee giggles, nearly choking on her coffee. “You think Jace and Ash have secretly broken a bed together? I mean, I know they’re always fighting, but that much sexual tension can’t be safe for the furniture.”
I fake a gasp, putting on my most dramatic voice. “Oh, for sure. Ash probably makes Jace do all the work, then blames him for the mess. And let’s be honest, Jace would pretend it was a wild animal attack to save face.”
We dissolve into laughter, shoulders shaking, the kitchen echoing with the sound. For a second, all the heavy stuff disappears, and it’s just me and Macee, swapping dirty jokes and pretending the world isn’t falling apart.
I nudge her. “So…any gossip from last night? Or is it just me making questionable life choices?”
Macee grins. “Girl, you’ve set the bar pretty high. Unless Jace and Ash snuck off for a secret rendezvous, I think you’re the reigning drama queen for now.”
I grin right back. “Good. Let them try to top that.”
I’m still grinning at Macee when Ash and Jace wander in, catching the tail end of our banter. Ash’s eyes narrow with that trademark mischief, and Jace’s smirk says he’s already plotting a comeback.
Ash grins, looking right at Macee. “You know, all you’ve gotta do is ask nicely.”
Jace leans in beside him, waggling his brows. “Yeah, Macee. Anything for a pretty face—bed frames, trampolines, egos…we break it all.”
Macee nearly snorts her coffee, cheeks going pink. “You two are ridiculous.”
I can’t resist shooting her a look. “I mean, Mace, you were the one wondering about all that tension. Maybe you should let them show you who can really top things around here.”
Ash bows, hand on his heart. “Anytime, sweetheart. My schedule’s wide open for private demonstrations.”
Jace adds, totally deadpan, “And if you want a referee, Sawyer’s got plenty of experience.”
Macee shakes her head, but she’s laughing now, a real, cheerful sound that makes the entire kitchen brighter.
I lean back in my chair, biting my lip to keep from laughing harder. “Careful, boys—she might take you up on it and leave you both in the dust.”
Ash gives a lazy wink. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
Jace points at me, grinning. “Chaos follows you everywhere, Sawyer.”
And for a minute, it’s just friends, bacon, and the teasing that means you’re home.
We’re still laughing, the kitchen noisy with banter and the smell of bacon, when my phone buzzes on the table. I grab it, thumb already hovering over the screen, expecting another group chat meme or maybe Macee’s “emergency caffeine” alerts.
But it’s Jasper.
JASPER: “Meet me at the shooting range. Bring your hoodie. Trust me.”
I blink, pulse kicking up a notch, and glance over at Macee. She must see the shift in my face because she tilts her head, curious.
“Everything okay?” she asks, lowering her mug.
I nod, stuffing my phone in my pocket, trying to tamp down the nerves and excitement. “Yeah, it’s Jasper. Wants to meet at the shooting range.”
Jace grins. “Better not show him up, Sawyer. He’ll never live it down.”
I smirk, grabbing my hoodie from the back of the chair. “I’ll let you know who’s the better shot.”
Macee squeezes my arm as I head for the door. “Be careful, okay?”
I squeeze her hand right back. “I’m always careful. Mostly.”
I slip outside, hoodie tugged over my head, feeling the sharp morning air hit my skin as I cross the gravel drive. Jasper’s family has so much land out here—old barns, the tree line hugging the horizon, the private shooting range tucked way out where even the wind feels secret.
My phone vibrates again as I pass the gate:
“I’m already out by the range. Just come straight out, Trouble.”
I feel off, a little voice in my head asking if Jasper would really text me like that. But I shake it off, walking faster, boots crunching over the dirt path leading out behind the barn. I’m alone. Too alone.
The wind picks up. I reach for my phone, about to text Jasper back, just to be sure—
That’s when I hear footsteps.
Too close.
Too fast.
A heavy arm slams around my waist. Another hand grabs my hair, yanking my head back. My phone drops to the ground, screen lighting up with Jasper’s contact photo as I’m dragged backward, feet scraping for purchase in the gravel.
A chemical scent fills my lungs—sweet, dizzying, wrong. A gloved hand swallows my scream. The sky tilts and blurs. My last thought before everything goes black is Jasper, and a single, useless question:
Why didn’t I listen to my gut?
JASPER
Micah’s hunched over his laptop at the dining table, eyes bloodshot, fingers flying over the keys.
The screen glows with maps, call records, and image grids—he’s been at it for hours, chasing digital ghosts.
Riot paces behind him, boots thumping out his nerves.
Silas sits in the window, jaw set, a phone pressed to his ear as he checks in with their security team.
I’m restless, running my thumb over my phone, skimming old messages from Sawyer. Every few minutes, I check the time, wondering when she’ll wander in with Macee, grumbling about bacon thieves or Ash’s latest disaster.
Jace swings in through the kitchen, grinning, a banana in one hand, phone in the other. “Hey! So who won at the range? Bet Sawyer kicked your ass, Reign. She’s got that silent assassin energy.”
The words barely register. I blink. “What?”
Jace laughs, tossing the banana peel in the trash. “The range, man. I just passed her in the hallway—she said you wanted to run drills out on the land.”
Micah looks up, frowning. Riot stops dead in his tracks.
“I… I didn’t ask her to meet me at the range,” I say, voice going cold. “What are you talking about?”
Jace’s smile slips, confusion setting in. “She got a text, dude. Just a few minutes ago. Said it was from you.”
Silas lowers his phone, eyes narrowing. “Are you sure she left?”
Jace nods. “Yeah, she was pulling on her hoodie, looked all business.”
A beat of silence.
Micah’s hands fly to his keyboard, his face pale as he mutters, “Send me her number. Right now.”
I’m already running for the door, Riot on my heels, panic rising in my throat like bile.
“She’s not answering,” I say, dialing her number, listening to it ring and ring into nothing.
Silas curses, following us. “Check the yard. The garage. The damn range—move!”
In an instant, everything shifts from normal to nightmare. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. My girl is gone.
And every second that ticks by is a second too late.
RIOT
The second Jasper’s face changes, my stomach drops. Jace’s words echo—“the range”—and I know, before anyone says it out loud, that something’s fucked. Really fucked.
Jasper’s already out the door, boots pounding the hallway. I’m on his heels, Micah calling out updates behind us, Silas barking orders on the phone, voice sharp as a blade.
We hit the porch in a frenzy, the cold air snapping at our faces.
Jasper’s calling Sawyer’s name over and over, the sound raw and desperate.
He breaks left, heading for the barn and the path that leads out to the range.
I sprint after him, lungs burning, heart thundering so loud it drowns out everything else.
“SAWYER!” I shout, voice cracking. “Sawyer, answer us! Come on, Hellcat!”
Nothing but wind, gravel, and the echo of our panic.
Micah’s in the driveway, phone to his ear, rattling off coordinates and commands, his face ashen. Silas moves like a ghost, eyes scanning the tree line, hand on his gun, every muscle tense.
Jace and Ash race past with Macee, all of them shouting her name, fanning out across the yard and the drive, checking behind the cars, the barn, the brush near the fence.
Jasper spots something first. His shout is pure terror.
“Here! Her phone—she dropped her fucking phone—”
I skid to a halt beside him. Her phone’s in the dirt, screen cracked, still lit up with Jasper’s last text. I pick it up with shaking hands, bile rising in my throat.
Silas swears hard and mean. “There are tracks in the gravel. Boot prints, and… fuck, a van? I’m calling it in. Now.”
Micah’s already running data, his laptop slung under one arm, breath coming in ragged pants.
“It’s not good. Whoever spoofed Jasper’s number is damn good.
We had a camera catch just the front end of the van—white, older model, but it didn’t catch tags.
That’s all we have for now. It looks like it was planned. ”