Chapter 25
Roque
T he smell of burnt engine oil and crushed drywall still hung thick in the air, but I barely noticed. My ears were ringing with the pressure of everything that hadn’t been said yet—everything I feared was true. My thoughts were spinning in too many directions when Alex and DB approached me outside the house.
They looked grim but focused.
“The driver’s still alive,” Alex said grimly, voice low. “Barely.”
“Neck’s likely broken,” DB added. “Paramedics said they’re stabilizing him, but he’s got abdominal trauma too. Either way, there’s no way to question him yet.”
I nodded once, jaw tight. “Doesn’t matter for now, he was just the transport.”
They exchanged a look, and I knew what they were asking without them saying it.
I gave them the short version. “The guy we’re hunting is calling himself Titian. A top tier in a syndicate we’ve been tracking connected to drugs, property scams, and trafficking. We think he ordered the hit on Kaden Roper and is tied to Romeo Foster. He’s protected and smart and ghosted every database we’ve tried, and we’ve got reason to believe he’s got people on the inside.”
“Like Topper?” DB asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Topper’s on his way to the hospital with suspected poisoning. Keir and Kai were with me when the call came in about Sayla and the kids, so they’re looking around.”
DB took that in with a slow nod. “How do we help?”
I didn’t even hesitate. “Get my woman and my kids back, and keep an eye on my dogs and the cat.”
Simple. Raw. The only thing I cared about at that moment.
The front lawn buzzed with movement. Uniforms from Piersville PD were fanning out, canvassing the area, knocking on doors, and asking neighbors if they’d seen or heard anything. A few were checking door cams, business surveillance, and anything that might have caught even a sliver of the van or the men involved.
Raul jogged over, phone in hand. “Got something,” he said, a little breathless. “One of the neighbors three doors down had a cam set up across the side yard. It’s not much—bad lighting—but there’s a face.”
He handed me the phone, and I played the clip. It was short and grainy as hell, but there was a side profile. The shape of the face and the way the guy moved tugged at something in my memory.
I called over Keir and Kai. They leaned in, watching closely.
“Looks familiar,” I muttered. “But I can’t place it.”
“Too low-res,” Kai said. “We might be able to clean it up, but not tonight.”
Before I could respond, a familiar voice broke through the tension.
“Well, hell,” Hurst Townsend said, striding toward us like he’d just come from a poker game instead of stepping into a crime scene. “Heard what’s going on. My family’s going to help look.”
I blinked, not sure if I was relieved or horrified. “Hurst?—”
“I’ll text Ned,” he went on, already fishing out his phone. “He’ll have people out combing back roads in twenty minutes.”
My heart sank. The last thing I needed was the Townsend family charging around like a pack of wild dogs amid an already volatile situation.
But then again, they had experience in this sort of thing. Their methods weren’t exactly normal, but they got results, and right now, I needed results.
I turned the phone toward him, freezing the grainy frame. “Recognize him?”
Hurst squinted at the screen, then shook his head. “Drawing a blank, but Ned might have better luck.”
He tapped the screen, sent the photo, and then frowned at the time. “Doubt he’s awake, but I’ll call him. If he’s in, he’ll move fast.”
He walked off to make the call, already talking just as the line connected.
I stood there, the image still glowing in my hand, the chaos of the scene swirling around me, and something shifted for the first time in hours.
We weren’t alone in this. And maybe—just maybe—we had enough firepower now to start pushing back.
Sayla
The car was moving too fast. I could feel the vibration of the engine thrumming under me, the smoothness of the road beneath new tires, and the soft give of leather seats beneath my legs. This wasn’t some rusted-out van or back-alley vehicle. It was newer, quiet, and deliberately chosen.
And I hated that I had time to think about those things because the worst part of it all—the part that was carving me open—was the sound of the kids crying.
Kaida's wail was sharp, confused, and scared in a way that made my heart break into pieces. Kairo was trying to be brave, sniffling and whimpering through his own tears like he didn’t want to make it worse. Their hands were tied, and their faces were covered—just like mine—and they didn’t understand why.
“Please.” My voice shook as I forced the words past the lump in my throat. “Please don’t hurt the kids, they’ve already been through enough. They’re just babies.”
No one responded. I couldn’t even tell how many of them were in the car. I couldn’t see, could barely hear over the pounding of my own heart. The blindfold pressed against my eyes was hot and scratchy, and the tape around my wrists had already rubbed raw spots into my skin. I had no clue where we were or how long we’d been driving. But I knew one thing: someone would pay if anything happened to those kids.
I lowered my voice, turning my head toward where I thought Kaida was.
“It’s okay, baby,” I murmured calmly. “You’re so brave. I’m right here, and I promise we’re going to be okay.”
I didn’t know if she could even hear me over her sobbing, but I kept going.
“Kairo, you’re doing amazing, sweetheart. We’re going to get out of this, I promise you. Just stay strong a little longer.”
The car came to an abrupt, jarring stop, and my head smacked lightly against the headrest.
“Asshole,” I snapped under my breath, rage bubbling just beneath the surface. “I swear to God, I’m kicking whoever’s driving right in the throat.”
The door opened, and cold air rushed in, and I heard the kids crying louder—higher-pitched and panicked as they were lifted out one by one. I jerked against my restraints, heart in my throat, but stayed quiet. My instincts screamed to fight, to shout, to claw someone’s eyes out, but I had to be smart. I had to stay calm—for them.
A rough hand gripped my upper arm, hard enough to bruise, and yanked me out of the car. I stumbled, feet hitting uneven ground, and someone shoved me forward.
Being blindfolded while you’re being pushed is something I’d rather not do again. You can’t brace yourself and can’t anticipate where your feet will land. You have to trust you won’t fall or run into something—and I didn’t trust one of these bastards.
I was jostled along a short distance, and then someone gripped my arm again and guided me—this time down some stairs. They were cold and hard under my bare feet. Each step was a gamble, and I had to fight to avoid tripping. They didn’t care or slow down, they just forced me along.
Once we reached the bottom, they let go. Footsteps echoed around me, retreating, and a door creaked and slammed shut. And just like that, we were alone.
Aside from the soft cries of the kids and my shaky breathing, there was no sound.
I dropped to my knees and leaned against a wall, dragging air into my lungs and trying to think. I’d seen something once about how to escape duct tape restraints—something about moving your hands under your feet and using your teeth.
I gritted my teeth and shifted. It took maneuvering, bending at angles that made my shoulders scream, but I finally got my tied hands under my legs and around to the front. My arms trembled from the strain, but I didn’t stop. I leaned forward, grabbed the edge of the tape with my teeth, and pulled.
The skin on my wrists burned as I tore at the adhesive. It was slow and brutal, but it gave, inch by inch.
When the last strip tore free, I yanked the blindfold up to my forehead and blinked through the blurry light.
We were in a basement with a concrete floor and bare walls. I could just make out a heavy door with no handle on this side at the top of the stairs.
I turned to the kids. Kairo was curled in the corner, Kaida leaning into him, both of them still bound and blindfolded but safe and alive. I scrambled over and whispered softly to them as I worked on the tape around their wrists. My hands were shaking, and my heart was thundering, but I made sure my voice was steady.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re safe now. We’re together, and that’s what matters. You’re doing so good.”
Their sobs softened just enough to let me finish untying them. I pulled off their blindfolds one at a time and kissed their foreheads as I did.
And the whole time—I kept my voice soothing and stayed calm, pretending I didn’t want to kill every single person who had touched them.
But inside, I wasraging.
It took everything I had to keep my voice soft and whisper calming things to the kids while seething beneath the surface. I felt like a kettle at full boil, barely holding the lid down. My heart was thundering, not just from fear but from fury that someone had taken us. Fury that they’d blindfolded children and tied their tiny wrists like they were criminals. They’d made them scream and cry and tremble in the dark, bringing out an emotion I’d never experienced before.
Everything I owned with even thepossibilityof helping Roque find us, was still in his house. I didn’t know how far we’d been driven or how long we’d been in that car. We could be on the other side of town or halfway across the state.
And then I saw a window, small and dusty with cobwebs clinging to the corners. It was set high up in the wall, near the ceiling, too high for me to reach without help. And worse—there was nothing in the room. No furniture or boxes, stray pipes or crates, nothing to climb on to get to it. Just a cold concrete floor and walls that seemed to lean in closer the longer I stared at them.
If I could get up there, I might be able to lift the kids through it, but they were too young and too little. Kaida wouldn’t know where to run, and Kairo was brave, but he was only three. Sending them out alone would be a death sentence.
No, that wasn’t an option. I wasn’t risking them like that.
So, I did the only thing Icoulddo: I pulled them close. Their tiny bodies were still shaking, Kaida sniffling quietly, her head buried in the crook of my arm, while Kairo clung to me like I was the only thing keeping him grounded. I wrapped my arms around them and held them tight, whispering gentle, steady reassurances, words that meant more to them than to me.
“We’re okay,” I murmured, brushing their hair back. “I’ve got you. No one’s going to hurt you.”
But in my mind, the wheels were already turning.
I was planning and thinking through every detail I’d seen. Every breath I’d taken since being brought into this place. The way the stairs creaked, the sound of the door locking behind us. The way the air smelled—old, damp, and just slightly metallic.
We weren’t going to wait for a rescue, we were going tosurvivethis.
And when the time came—when I found even the most minor crack in their plan—I was going to make sure they regretted ever laying hands on us. They hadn’t taken a victim, they’d taken achild protector, and I was going to be their worst fucking mistake.
DB
The front door had barely clicked shut behind Roque when the quiet settled over the house like a heavy blanket. None of us spoke right away. We just stood there, the sound of his truck’s engine fading into the distance, each of us knowing exactly where he was going and wishing he’d get there in time. The weight of it all hung in the air—fear, anger, helplessness—but none of us dared to name it.
From the living room, a strange sound echoed, low and guttural, like a growl mixed with a bark.
“What the hell was that?” Raul asked, glancing around like a dog might charge out of the pantry.
Mark, ever calm, just pointed upward toward the tall shelf above the fireplace. “That’s Dog.”
Alex turned to him, brow furrowed. “Dog?”
“Yeah, that’s the cat’s name.”
There was a beat of silence, then Raul’s face contorted with confusion and something close to horror. “Wait… he named a catDog? Did he—did hebreeda cat with a dog?”
Mark grinned. “That’s exactly what I said the first time I saw him.”
The weird barking sound echoed again, louder this time, followed by the scuff of claws against wood as the cat shifted on the shelf. We all looked up. Its yellow eyes glinted in the dim light, and its tail twitched lazily as if it had no idea it sounded like it belonged in a kennel instead of a house.
“Is it actuallybarking?” Alex asked, his voice still filled with disbelief at what he was seeing.
We paused, listening. The sound came again, unmistakable.
“Yup,” we all agreed at the same time.
Before we could linger on it any longer, Reid stepped back into the room, phone in hand, face pale and tight. He looked like he’d aged a year in the last twenty minutes.
“I called Sayla’s parents,” he said quietly. “Told them what happened, and as could be expected, they’re shattered. My brother’s breaking it to Heidi now.” He rubbed at his face, voice thick. “I also texted her brother, he’s headed over to check in on their folks. My brother’s staying with Heidi and keeping her and the kids safe just in case.”
I gave him a nod. “Good. Now start making some calls, we need pet carriers. Round up the two dogs and Dog before this place gets any crazier.”
Reid’s eyes scanned the room, unsure. “Dog’s a cat, right? I love animals, but I don’t even see?—”
He was cut off by another one of those bizarre barks, and Reid’s head jerked up, eyes landing on the shelf. When he spotted the cat crouched up there—its ears flattened, mouth slightly open—he blinked, startled.
“What the fuck is that?” he whispered. “Seriously, is it evenpossiblefor cats and dogs to reproduce?”
I clapped him on the shoulder and gave him the kind of look that said I wasn’t joking. “Doesn’t matter, you’re babysitting Roque’s pets now.”
He turned to me, eyebrows raised like I’d just handed him a live grenade. “Or what?”
“Or Roque will kick your ass.”
Reid didn’t argue. Smart man.