Chapter 23
Monty Cruz leaned his head back against the wall of the van, the low rumble of the engine vibrating beneath him. Two prisoners sat to his left and one to his right. There were more on the other side of the partition.
Nine in total. Everyone knew what was about to go down. There were others involved. The DOC Correctional Transport Officer. A couple more paid on the outside. The prison warden had been the hardest to get onboard. But even that was easier than it should have been.
He bit back a laugh. People were so fucking easy. Flash a few dollars in front of them and they fell at his fucking feet.
The best part though? Zane wouldn’t see this coming. It would hit him square in the fucking face—and Monty would enjoy every second of it. He’d waited long enough to get his revenge after what that asshole had taken from him. Too damn long.
Monty had given him everything. A new life in the UFC that came with money and freedom and the opportunity to fuck any bitch he wanted.
And the one time Monty needed him, he hadn’t been there.
No, instead of helping him cover up Sasha’s death, Zane had done everything he could to make sure he was locked away.
A familiar rage clawed at his insides, climbing up his throat like bile.
Well, cousin, your time is coming, and it’s coming soon.
Jeremiah tapped his foot beside Monty. The guy was just as excited. Maybe more. But then, he had a kid and a woman at the shelter in Amber Ridge. He’d probably kill her. Monty didn’t give a fuck what the guy did. As long as he fulfilled his end of things today.
He couldn’t see outside, but he knew the exact moment the van hit the dirt road. The ride changed from quiet and smooth to loud and bumpy.
They were close.
Jeremiah’s breathing quickened, like he was so fucking excited he couldn’t hold it together. The guy would probably get himself caught or killed within the first day. Again, not Monty’s problem. His plan was too perfectly laid out to care. Although, he might use a couple of them later on.
The bang of a gun being fired sounded from the front of the van.
The energy in the van changed, the guys sitting a bit straighter. The air felt thicker.
Monty didn’t so much as smile. He wouldn’t smile until he was out.
The van stopped. A few seconds later, the back doors opened and the transport officer stood on the other side. He didn’t look nervous. He looked excited. Apparently, offering him a million dollars to pull this off made a guy excited about shooting a colleague and freeing felons.
He pulled Jeremiah from the van, then Monty. Monty was uncuffed first. The moment Jeremiah was free—the first fucking second—he grabbed the pistol from the officer’s belt.
The officer’s eyes widened. “Hey, what are you—”
Jeremiah shot the officer in the forehead.
And that was why Monty needed the guy. Well…that, and to free everyone else while he got the hell out of there and make sure every one of them headed to Amber Ridge.
They should anyway. Because they knew that if they didn’t, every person they loved on the outside was at risk.
Jeremiah grabbed keys from the dead CTO. As he started uncuffing everyone, Monty jogged toward the mountains, the cool air slipping over his skin.
Fuck, this air tasted better than the stale shit he’d breathed in prison.
It didn’t take long to find the go car. The one the CTO had arranged for himself.
The key was affixed behind the back tire. Monty grabbed it and opened the trunk to find spare clothes. Quickly, he changed and tossed the orange jumpsuit behind a tree.
It was only when he climbed behind a wheel that he let the first smile curve his lips.
He’d done it. He was free. The officers were dead. There would be nine felons free, causing chaos in the small town of Amber Ridge. Murderers. Thieves. They’d be one huge fucking distraction while he did what he had to do.
Thank fuck for money. It bought allies. Freedom. And eventually, it would buy him revenge.
Zane stepped out of The Pit, sunlight hitting his eyes as he walked down the street.
It had only been a week since that mess after the call from Monty, but the second he’d made things right with Bonnie, he’d decided he wasn’t letting that asshole get into his head. It was what Monty wanted. Exactly why Zane wasn’t giving it to him.
He lifted his phone and texted her.
Zane: How’s your day been, Bon?
It was midafternoon, which meant they were both almost done. Bonnie was meeting him at the gym after work, and fuck, he was excited to see her. He was always excited to see her. Being with her, he actually felt normal and good and alive for the first time in over a year.
Bonnie: It’s been okay.
Zane: Uh-oh. What’s wrong?
Bonnie: I don’t know. I’ve just had this bad feeling all day, like something’s going to happen. And there’s been this strange heaviness around the shelter.
He stopped outside The Tea House.
Zane: You think it has something to do with Carlos?
Jesse hadn’t been able to find anything linking Carlos to the dead fucking mouse incident. Nothing. Just like the night Bonnie had been shoved against the building, he had an alibi, but this time he’d been with his wife. The same wife who’d sent that god-awful text to Bonnie.
Shit, he hated that family.
Bonnie: No. This feels different. I’m probably being silly. There are a lot of big emotions in the shelter today. You still want me to come to The Pit after work?
Zane: Come anytime.
Bonnie: I’ve only got a couple of hours to go. I’ll see you soon.
Nothing felt soon enough. He wanted eyes on her all the time, and he didn’t care if that was normal or not.
He stepped inside The Tea House, spotting Jesse at a table to the side of the room. He sat with his brother, Becket, and best friend, Holden. When the guys saw him, they waved. Zane dipped his head before stepping up to the counter.
Mrs. Gerald hung up the phone and faced him, brows tugged together. “Hi, Zane.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Um. I’m not sure. That was one of my girls. She was supposed to come in for the last couple hours of the day to do the close, but on her way here, she found a man on the side of the road. He was unconscious and naked.”
The fuck? “Like, someone beat him up and took his clothes?”
“That’s what it sounded like.”
“Jesse’s over there if you want to talk to him.”
“She’s called the sheriff’s station, but yes, I might mention it to Jesse too.” Another worker called the shop owner over. “Sorry. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Who the hell would beat someone up and take their clothes? Especially in this town.
He looked over at Jesse to see the three guys already heading his way.
“Hey. Everything okay?” Jesse asked.
“Mrs. Gerald just got a report that some guy was beaten up and his clothes were taken.”
Jesse’s head reared back. “Just now?”
“Apparently.”
“Here in Amber Ridge?” Becket asked.
“Yeah.”
Jesse pulled his cell from his pocket just as it started ringing.
“It’s the station. Maybe that’s what they’re calling about.
” He put the phone to his ear. “Sheriff Hayes speaking.” His eyes flared.
“What?” There was a small pause. “How many?” Another pause, then Jesse cursed.
“We need to call in everyone currently off duty, then I want everyone out on patrol in pairs, keeping an eye out for escapees.”
Zane’s pulse sped up. “Escapees?”
“There was a prisoner transfer from Montana State Prison. Contact was lost with the transport officers, and the van was just found in the mountains, here in Amber Ridge.” Jesse met his gaze. “Both transport officers are dead and the van’s empty.”
Zane flinched like someone had hit him.
“How many inmates?” Becket asked through gritted teeth.
“Nine.”
“Do you know any of the inmates’ names?” Zane asked quietly.
Jesse shook his head. “No. I’ve got to get to the station.”
“I’m coming with you,” Becket said.
“Me too,” Holden agreed, following them out.
Zane’s cell rang, Ethan’s name on the screen.
And he knew. He fucking knew exactly what was about to be said. He almost didn’t want to answer because that would make it real. “Ethan—”
“They transferred them early.” Air blew over the line. “He’s out, Zane. Monty’s in Amber Ridge.”
There it was. The confirmation he hadn’t wanted. And the start of his nightmare.
Ethan kept talking. About the other prisoners who were in the van. About driving to Amber Ridge to help find and contain them.
Zane was barely listening. He could only think about—only had the capacity for—one thing.
Bonnie.
“I have to go, Ethan.” He hung up and rushed out of The Tea House, hitting Bonnie’s name on his cell.
The call rang out.
Fuck.
He called again. And again, no answer.
No. This couldn’t be happening.
He started running, sprinting down the street. He didn’t even stop at The Pit to get his car. Running was faster. And he needed to get to her as quickly as possible. Because if Monty got to her first, Zane could lose the only good thing in his life.