26. Jonah
Jonah
B oone has Ani tucked away at the station.
It makes sense. She’s safe there. The firehouse is fortified and easy to monitor. Boone won’t let anyone through without a fight.
And her absence keeps Mae safe for now. Even if I fucking hate it.
Still, I can’t sit still.
I move through the cabin checking every lock and every window. I reset the perimeter sensors. I walk the full line of the property twice before the sun finishes rising. Nothing’s out of place, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe.
And these assholes have already snuck past our checkpoints twice. I can’t let that happen again.
Finn’s in the back bedroom with Mae. He’s trying to keep her distracted with coloring books, cartoons, and building a pillow fort. It helps. A little. But even Mae knows things aren’t right. And she hates Ani’s absence almost as much as I do.
I pass through the kitchen again. Glance at the camera feed. Three screens, all clean. Nothing moves.
I walk through the house again, slower this time. I stop in the front room, resting my hand on the window frame. I glance outside. Still no movement.
But it’s coming.
I can feel it in my body. They’re circling, waiting to strike when we least expect it.
I wait until the sun goes down before I make the first call.
Mae’s asleep, and Finn’s dozed off beside her with a book open on his chest.
I slip quietly out the back door to make sure I don’t wake them. I don’t go far–just to the edge of the tree line, where I know our signal is still good.
I dial the first number from memory.
A voice picks up after four rings, low and steady. “Doc.”
“Conway,” I say. “It’s time.”
He doesn’t ask what I mean, just says, “Send me the radius and the risk profile. I’ll prep the team.”
“You got it.” I hang up without another word.
Next is Teller.
He’s in Nevada now, running a private security firm out of Vegas. Last I heard, he was pulling double duty for some VIP protection work and intel coordination. He picks up quickly.
“Didn’t think I’d hear from you.”
“Didn’t plan on calling,” I answer. “Need eyes immediately.”
“Long or short?”
“Short now. Long if they push.”
He hums, then says, “Send me the names.”
He’ll have them within the hour, and he’ll know exactly what to do.
The third number takes me longer to dial–not because I don’t know it, but because it’s a last resort.
“Jonah.”
“Rico.”
“I heard about Brighton Hills.”
“Family’s dirty,” I say. “And they’re moving fast.”
“Asset recovery?”
“If necessary.”
“You think they’ll escalate?”
“I think they already have.”
There’s a longer pause this time. Then, “Send the info. I’ll start backgrounding.”
I tell him it’s on the way and hang up.
Three calls I didn’t think I’d ever have to make again. Men like that don’t say yes because they’re curious. They say yes because, once, a long time ago, we went through hell and back together. And none of us will ever forget it.
Ani is ours now.
And when they come again—because they will—they won’t find a girl without protection.
They’ll find me.
And they’ll regret that moment for the rest of their lives.