Chapter Thirty-Two
As Seth approached his mother’s neighborhood, he fought every instinct screaming at him to floor it and crash through the front door. But Gene knew he was coming. If he hadn’t already, he was calling for backup. He had hostages. He had control.
But Seth had one advantage: he knew the house in a way Gene never would. Every inch of it. Every blind spot, every angle, every way in and out.
He would use that to his advantage—minimize risks as much as possible—then proceed with caution and save his loved ones. He couldn’t what-if himself into a mindfuck that would cripple him.
And he sure as hell wouldn’t fail again.
Letting out a rough breath, Seth turned onto his mother’s street and tucked the SUV behind the neighbor’s conversion van three houses down, shielding the vehicle from the front-facing windows of his childhood home.
He killed the engine. Then his stare fell on the leather pouch in the passenger seat.
He hesitated. Damn it, he couldn’t leave this goldmine of evidence in his car.
Anyone, especially Gene’s goons, could break in and steal the only proof of Gene’s corruption.
He had to stash it someplace where Gene couldn’t reach it, would never think to look for it.
He’d have to figure something out. One problem at a time.
For now, Seth shoved the leather pouch under his arm and slipped out of the car.
It was a seemingly typical Sunday afternoon, quiet as sunlight filtered through the trees. A couple walked their dog. A few doors down, a man mowed his lawn.
Today, the quiet felt like its own kind of threat.
Seth didn’t hesitate. He crouched low to the ground as he cut through the neighbors’ yards, using trees and overgrown hedges for cover.
Pounding heartbeats later, he advanced, darting for the old oak tree his dad had planted when Seth was five.
Finally, he tucked himself behind the thick shrubs he and his brothers had hated trimming every summer.
After dragging in a ragged breath, Seth sprinted to the side of the house without sight lines to the front door and pressed his back against the cool vinyl siding. Then slowly, he inched to the front edge of the house and peeked around the corner.
The family room drapes were closed. Seth’s gut clenched. Grace Cooper opened those curtains every morning. She loved the natural light. So seeing them shut this early in the afternoon was like a neon sign flashing Danger.
Gene had done it purely to lock his loved ones in and to prevent Seth’s visual recon.
Fuck you.
Another glance up at the house. The bedroom curtains on the second floor were wide open. That meant Gene had the hostages on the main floor or the basement.
Time to test his hypothesis.
Crouching low, Seth scurried along the foundation toward the basement window, hoping for a clandestine peek inside.
As he neared the small window, it creaked open.
Shit.
With his heart thudding, he flattened himself against the siding again, hoping like fuck that his decision to leave his gun in LA to avoid the hassle with TSA didn’t cost everyone he loved their lives.
Seth froze as he waited to see who emerged, coiled and ready to pounce. If Gene stuck his head out, he’d have to attack quickly. Lethally.
He’d only get the element of surprise once.
But it wasn’t his nemesis whose head appeared in the opening. It was…
Beck?
The good doctor extended one arm with a grimace, frantically clawing at the grass as he struggled to pull himself out the tiny window.
Seth lunged forward, relief sweeping through him at the sight of his friend alive and fighting. He grabbed Beck’s arm and tugged him free.
With a groan of agony, Beck rolled onto his back. He was sweating and shockingly pale. Blood soaked his shirt.
Seth’s heart sputtered at the sight. “Fuck! You’re shot.”
Beck’s voice was tight. “Noticed that, huh?”
Despite his obvious pain, the surgeon’s sarcasm was unscathed.
“Hard not to.” Seth automatically checked the wound on his left shoulder. The entry point was ragged and ugly. As he started to ease Beck onto his right side, the doctor stopped him.
“There’s no exit. The bullet is still lodged inside me.”
“Did you escape?”
Beck scoffed. “The cocksucker locked me and Carl in the basement.”
So the able-bodied men couldn’t protect the women or put up a fight. Coward.
“And Heavenly? Is she okay?” Seth demanded. “Has Gene shot anyone else?”
Beck shook his head, his eyes sharp and focused “I haven’t heard any more gun shots. Yelling, but that’s it.”
More relief. But Seth didn’t dare relax as he pulled out his phone. “You need a hospital.”
Beck’s hand shot out and gripped Seth’s wrist. “I’m not leaving.”
“Damn it, Beck. You—”
“Will be fine. The bleeding has slowed. It hurts like a bitch, but I’m not gonna die. I’ll get patched up once we get everyone out.”
Seth didn’t bother trying to reason with Beck. He’d be wasting his breath. Besides, if the shoe was on the other foot, Seth wouldn’t budge either.
With a terse nod, Seth helped Beck sit up, propping him against the house behind a bush. “Tell me what happened. Where is Gene keeping everyone?”
“One minute Carl and I were watching football. The next, the son of a bitch clocked Carl with the butt of his gun. Knocked him out cold. He’s got a minor concussion.
Then the asshole shot me, no fucking warning.
He forced us down to the basement. Before that, Gene had everyone else pinned to the family room sofa. ”
“Jesus.” Seth itched to kill the motherfucker.
“I’m worried about Hudson.” Beck’s brows furrowed.
Seth felt his stomach drop. “Is he hurt?”
“Not physically. But Gene forced the kid to drag Carl and me to the basement and take our phones. I’m sure Gene took all the others, too. But poor Hudson was freaked out. Kept whispering he was sorry. I told him it wasn’t his fault and to stay calm, not to give Gene any reason to shoot him, too.”
“How many guns does Gene have? What kind?”
“I only saw one. Looked like a Glock.”
Seth’s throat tightened. “How’s Carl?”
“His head hurts like hell. Minor concussion, but he came to about ten minutes ago. Helped me get to the window, but he couldn’t fit through.”
The news filled Seth with relief and rage. He tried to calm himself with the reminder that everyone was alive...for now.
“I’ll be right back.” Seth eased toward the window, then peered inside.
Carl sat on the stool next to the basement workbench, resting his head in his hands. He was pale and shaking, blood caked on the side of his head—completely unlike last night’s vibrant groom.
His stepfather lifted his head. The second their eyes met, he jolted and rushed to the window. The tears of fear and fury in his eyes nearly crushed Seth.
“Thank God you’re here. G-Gene has your mom and—”
“I know. I’m going to get them out.” Seth pulled the satchel from under his arm and held it out. “I need you to hide this in the safe next to the workbench. If Gene gets his hands on what’s in there, we’re all dead.”
Carl took the leather pouch, then peered back up at Seth. “I don’t know the combination.”
“Sure you do. Or rather, you’d better. It’s Mom’s birthday.”
A flicker of warmth darted over his face. “I’ll lock it right up. Just…go save my girl.”
“On it. Sit tight. We’ll get you out of there as soon as we can,” Seth assured before making his way back to Beck.
“What’s the plan?” Beck croaked.
“I called for backup. They’re on their way.”
“Gene knows you’re here and that you killed Bob. He’s been tracking you on Bob’s phone.”
“I didn’t dump the fucking thing because it’s evidence.” Seth scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I never thought Gene would be stalking his minion like a helicopter parent.”
“Based on Gene’s violent outburst, I’m guessing you found something important at your dad’s storage unit?”
Gene had fucking told them?
Seth grimaced, guilt searing his veins. “Fuck, I’m sorry.
I swore I wouldn’t dig again…and I did. But I had no idea until I got to the storage unit that Gene was the one who killed my dad and ordered the hit on Autumn and Tristan.
I should have left well enough alone, but…
” He sighed. “I couldn’t. And now I’ve brought a world of shit down on all of you because I—”
“Stop. Gene did this. Not you,” Beck insisted, gripping Seth’s wrist. “We’ll hash out the rest later.”
Seth hesitated, then nodded. Beck was right; now wasn’t the time.
“All that matters now?” Beck muttered, despite the pain etched into every line of his face. “Heavenly and our baby are inside that house. We have to save them.”
Our baby.
Those two words hit Seth like a wrecking ball.
This morning they’d woken up as future fathers. If he didn’t fucking stop Gene, their future might be dust by sunset.
“We will. And we’ll deal with Gene so he can never hurt anyone again,” Seth growled.
His stare connected with Beck’s. A silent understanding passed between them—absolute, unshakable.
“When your backup arrives, I’m going in with you.” Beck straightened, wincing.
“Not with that shoulder.” Seth’s voice was low and firm.
“Goddamnit, Cooper. I’m not helpless. I can still—”
“No. You’re my fail-safe.” Seth swallowed the emotion clogging his throat. “If something goes wrong—if I don’t make it out—you have to take care of Heavenly, our baby, and Hudson. Make sure they live long, happy lives.”
Beck opened his mouth to argue, but Seth held up his hand.
“I’m counting on you to take care of our family. This isn’t about pride or ego. It’s about their survival.”
Beck gritted his teeth, then exhaled a heavy sigh. “If it makes you feel better, fine. But you better not fucking die in there.”
“That’s the plan,” Seth assured as he caught a glimpse of Matt—armed and alert—darting across the neighbor’s yard. His movements were deliberate and silent as he innately traced the same path Seth had taken.