CHAPTER 8
Timothy
I'm done playing defense.
I lie awake after Carla falls asleep, her body curled against mine, and all I can think about is what he spray painted on her car.
You're mine. Always.
Never again.
The rage that burns through me is cold. Controlled. The kind of rage I used to feel before a mission. The kind that makes you dangerous because you're not reacting. You're calculating.
Randall wants a war? I'll give him one.
But this time, I'm not waiting for him to make the next move. I'm taking the fight to him.
I slip out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake Carla. She needs sleep. Needs rest. Because when this goes down, she's going to need all her strength.
In the living room, I grab my phone and start making calls.
First is Vincent.
I check the time. 0217. Vincent's going to be pissed. He answers on the fifth ring.
"Someone better be dead."
"Not yet."
"Tim. What the fuck."
"I need that backup. How fast can you get here?"
Silence. Then: "Give me eight hours. Where am I going?"
“Come to me.”
“She better be worth it.”
She is. She's everything. But I don't say that.
I hang up and call Jonah next.
"You're making a move," he says when he answers. Not a question.
"Yeah. I need eyes on Randall. Where he's staying. What he's driving. Who he's with."
"I can do that. Give me a few hours."
"Thanks."
"You going full operator on this guy?"
"Yeah."
"You know this could go sideways fast."
"Of course."
"And you're doing it anyway."
"He’s escalating."
"...Fuck. Okay. I'm in. Buddy and Sinclair?"
"If they're available."
"They're available. This is what we do."
"Fair enough. I'll call you when I have something."
I set the phone down and stand at the window, looking out at the parking lot. It's empty. Quiet. But Randall's out there somewhere. Watching. Waiting. Planning his next move.
He thinks he has time. Thinks he can wear us down. Thinks eventually Carla will give up and come back to him.
He's wrong.
And I'm going to make sure he knows it.
I'm running through the plan in my head. Every step. Every contingency. Every way this could go wrong.
And I'm making damn sure it doesn't.
Because I'm not losing her. Not now. Not ever.
Randall Shelly picked the wrong woman to mess with.
And very soon, he's going to find out just how big a mistake that was.