Chapter 24 Ozzy
TWENTY-FOUR
OZZY
The nozzle clicks, and the sound is too normal for what my gut is screaming.
I hang the pump back, cap the tank, and glance toward the store again.
Through the front windows I can see the clerk behind the counter and two aisles of junk food.
No Salem. No movement in the hallway entrance either.
I wait a beat because I told myself she was just washing her hands or checking her face or breathing through the panic that never fully leaves.
Another beat passes. Then another. The uneasy feeling that has lived under my skin since the warehouse lead crawls up my spine and hooks in deep.
Salem does not take this long. Not when she’s nervous. Not when she wants back in the car. Not when she knows we are exposed in a public place.
I step toward the entrance and the bell jingles as I push the door open. Warm air hits my face along with the smell of burnt coffee. The clerk barely looks up. My eyes sweep the room fast. Two customers at the far end. One at the cooler. Nobody who looks like her.
I keep my voice controlled. “Restrooms.”
The clerk jerks his chin toward the hallway like he cannot be bothered.
I move down the hallway with my pulse already climbing. The lights buzz overhead. The restroom door is shut. I knock once. “Salem.”
No answer.
I push the door open.
Empty.
My stomach drops so hard it feels like someone punched me from the inside. I step into the restroom, scanning the corners like she could be hiding behind the trash can. The sink drips. The mirror is spotted. The air smells like cheap soap and stale fear.
Salem’s gone.
I back out, moving faster now, head snapping left and right. The hallway is empty. The side door at the end is slightly ajar, and cold air cuts through like a blade.
Fuck no.
I jog to it and shove it open, stepping outside into the rear of the store where the light is weaker and the shadows are thicker. My eyes catch tire tracks in damp gravel and a smear on the wall like someone was shoved against it.
My chest goes tight and hot. Rage and panic rise together, a violent mix that makes it hard to breathe. I spin back around the building and reach the front lot. I scan the road, the pumps, the far end of the lot. Nothing.
My hands shake as I grab my phone. Fuck, this is my fault. I’m an idiot. I let her out of my sight. I ignored the knot in my gut because I wanted to get her back to Rainmaker and pretend we were safe for another hour. I wanted to believe the world would give her a break.
I call Dean first. He answers on the second ring, calm like always. “Ozzy.”
“Salem’s gone,” I say. My voice sounds rough, like I swallowed gravel. “Kidnapped. Again. Gas station off the highway, ten minutes from Rainmaker. She went to the restroom, and she never came back out.”
There’s a pause, quick and sharp, the sound of a mind shifting into mission mode. “Any witnesses,” Dean asks.
“Clerk inside. Two customers. No one saw anything. There’s a back door by the hallway. It was cracked open when I found it. Tire tracks behind the building. Looks like a snatch and grab.”
Dean’s tone turns firm. “Do not move from your location.”
My heart stutters, then slams forward in uneven bursts. “I’m going after her.”
“No,” he says, flat and absolute. “brAVO is already rolling. They are minutes out. You stay put and you stay alive. We need your eyes and your details.”
Dread pools in my veins like slow poison. “Dean, she’s back in it because I let my guard down.”
“Blame does not help,” Dean replies. “Action helps. Give me your exact location and description of the suspect vehicle if you have it.”
I force air into my lungs and give him everything. Station name. Highway exit. The angle of the building. Where the back door sits. The tracks. I describe the smell in the alley, the smear on the wall, the quickness of it.
Dean listens without interrupting. Then he says, “Stay where you are. Do not run into a trap. Do not become a second hostage. brAVO will arrive in minutes.”
The call ends before I can argue. I stare at my phone for half a second, fighting the urge to throw it across the lot. Then I call Poe.
He answers immediately, voice already tight. “Tell me you did not just lose her.”
The words punch straight through me. “I lost her,” I say. “Gas station. Bathroom. She got taken out the back. It happened fast.”
Poe inhales, slow and controlled. “Where?”
I give him the location. “I’m already heading there,” he says. “I was in the area when the plate came back. I’ll be on you in a few.”
“You shouldn’t,” I mutter.
Poe snorts. “You’re not the boss of me.”
My insides coil into a cold, writhing knot. “I can’t do this again. I can’t watch her get taken again.”
“You are not watching,” Poe says, colder now. “You are moving. You are reporting. You are going to help. Stop spiraling and keep your head online.”
I close my eyes for one second. Then I open them, forcing myself to focus on details. There’s a camera above the store entrance. Another over the pumps. A third on the back corner that might catch the alley. I look for the brand tag on the hardware, anything I can tell Rae later.
Poe’s voice stays sharp. “Dean knows.”
“Yes.”
“Good,” Poe says. “Then brAVO is coming. When they get there, do not get in their way.”
Heat floods my face while cold sweat beads along my hairline. “They’re going to tell me to sit back.”
“They’re going to tell you to breathe,” Poe corrects. “And you should listen.”
I end the call and pace near my SUV, trying to stay close to the back of the building without drifting into the shadows like an idiot. The cold bites through my jacket. My hands itch for a weapon, for anything I can use to tear the world apart until Salem is in my arms again.
The minutes stretch thin. Then the sound of engines hits the lot.
Two vehicles pull in, moving with purpose, not like normal customers. Dark SUVs. Tinted windows. The kind of arrival that makes everyone else suddenly look down and mind their own business.
A third vehicle follows. Then another. They park in a way that blocks exits without looking like they are blocking exits. That is the difference between trained and reckless.
Sawyer Maddox steps out first.
He looks like trouble in human form. Calm, controlled, built like he could break a door down with his shoulder and then apologize for the splinters. His gaze locks on mine immediately.
Riggs gets out beside him, scanning the area. Miller. Gunner. Tanner. Jaxson. Movement in a tight pattern, each one taking a slice of the scene like they have done it a thousand times.
Rae’s voice comes through my phone a second later, patched into the team channel. “Ozzy, I’m on comms. I’m pulling traffic cams and station security now. Keep your eyes on your surroundings.”
I clench every part of me that wants to unravel until it hurts to breathe. “Copy.”
Sawyer strides toward me. “Ozzy, give me the entire story.”
I nod, telling him everything again, faster this time but clean. Bathroom. Time lapse. Back door cracked. Tracks. No van visible. My guilt sits in my chest like a weight, but I push it aside because Sawyer is reading facts, not feelings.
Riggs takes notes on his phone, then angles his head toward the back of the building. “We’re going to check the alley and pull video.”
Sawyer’s gaze cuts back to me. “You stay here.”
My jaw clenches. “I can help.”
Sawyer’s expression doesn’t change. “You can help by not getting shot.”
“I know how to move,” I snap.
Gunner’s gaze flicks to me, unimpressed. “Not like us.” That lands exactly where it hurts.
Sawyer’s voice stays calm, but there is steel under it. “Ozzy, I get it. You care. But we do not bring civilians into a breach. You are not cleared, and you are emotionally compromised. Stay put.”
I swallow hard. I want to argue. I want to shove past them and sprint into the dark like speed will fix what I broke. But Salem is the one paying for my pride right now. I force myself to nod. “Fine. What do you need from me?”
Sawyer’s gaze softens a fraction. “Stay on comms. Answer questions. Tell us anything you remember.” He places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “We’ll get her back.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
Riggs and Miller peel off to the back corner of the store. Tanner and Jaxson head inside to talk to the clerk.
Rae keeps feeding updates through my phone. “Station has four cameras. Front entrance, aisle three, pump lane, and rear corner. Rear camera may have been disabled. I’m seeing gaps.”
I force myself to breathe. “Someone planned it.”
Sawyer hears me and nods like he already knew.
A vehicle pulls into the lot then. An older sedan, fast and ugly in the way it parks. Poe gets out before it fully stops. He moves like a man who has decided the rules are optional. He walks straight toward me, eyes hard, jaw tight.
Sawyer’s gaze flicks to him. “And you are?”
“Poe,” Poe says without stopping. “I’m with him.”
Sawyer looks him up and down. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Poe narrows his eyes at him. “I’m not leaving.”
Sawyer’s mouth tightens. He turns his attention back to me. “Your friend is going to wait with you.”
Poe gives a humorless laugh. “That’s what I came for.”
We wait near my SUV while brAVO finishes gathering intel. The air feels thicker now, as if the whole place knows what is about to happen.
Riggs returns and gives Sawyer a quick update. “Rear corner camera is dead. Cut clean. That’s deliberate.”
Sawyer nods once. “Warehouse lead still holds. We move.”
My stomach drops. They think she was taken to the warehouse. The same one we found. And maybe she was. It’s seriously the best we’ve got right now.
Poe’s gaze locks on mine. “Told you it was a message.”
I swallow hard. “They want us to chase.”
“And we will,” Poe says. “But we do it smart.”
Sawyer steps closer. “Ozzy, Poe. You both stay outside the warehouse perimeter when we arrive. You will not enter. You will not engage. If you see movement, you report. You do not do anything that’ll get you killed.”
Poe opens his mouth like he wants to argue.
Sawyer gives him a look that shuts him up.
Poe mutters, “Fine.”
We get into vehicles. I ride with Poe because Sawyer does not want me driving in a state like this, and I hate that he’s right. My hands shake too much.
The drive to the warehouse feels shorter than it should.
The sun has climbed higher, but the light is weak. The lot looks emptier now, like it has swallowed people before and is ready to swallow more.
Sawyer’s team spreads out the moment they arrive. Silent. Efficient. A ripple of bodies moving into positions. Riggs signals. Gunner takes the right side. Tanner checks a window line. Jaxson angles toward the loading dock. Miller disappears into the shadows like he was born there.
Rae’s voice is steady. “I have county traffic feeds up. No obvious movement around the warehouse for the last thirty minutes. That does not mean it’s clear. It means they’re disciplined.”
Poe’s fingers flex on the steering wheel. “I hate disciplined.”
“I hate that she’s inside,” I say.
Poe glances at me, eyes sharp. “Hold it together.”
“I am,” I lie.
Sawyer’s voice comes through on the team channel. “Stack on the side entrance. On my count.”
I can see them now, clustered near the door we could not open earlier. Weapons ready. Bodies angled. Focused.
My throat tightens so hard it hurts.
Salem’s in there.
She’s scared.
And I am outside, useless.
Poe’s voice is low beside me. “If you go in, you get her killed.”
I close my eyes for a second. Then I open them, staring hard at the warehouse door.
Sawyer raises his hand. The team forms the stack.
Rae’s voice comes through calm and clear. “Cameras are still down. No external feeds. You are dark.”
Sawyer’s reply is a quiet and steady, “Copy.”
He looks over his shoulder once, checking the perimeter. His gaze catches mine through the windshield. He gives a single nod like he is promising me something. Then he turns back to the door. Sawyer’s hand drops.
And brAVO breaches.