Chapter 17 Wrecker
WRECKER
The compound was quiet. Too quiet.
I hated that feeling, when your instincts are yelling before your brain catches up. When everything looks fine, but your gut starts whispering, get ready. That whisper had been getting louder all morning.
I leaned against the railing outside the clubhouse, scanning the tree line while Ranger double-checked the perimeter readings on his tablet.
“No movement since last night,” he said, voice low. “You think they’re regrouping?”
I didn’t answer right away.
Because I didn’t know.
And I hated not knowing.
“They’re watching,” I said finally. “I can feel it. They’re not done.”
Ranger glanced at me, then back at the screen. “Cap wants us to check the west fence again. Motion sensors glitched around 0400.”
“Fuck.” I pushed off the railing. “I’ll go.”
He paused. “You sure? Thought you’d want to stay close to—”
“She’s with Ariel,” I cut in. “Cap’s got two guards posted outside the office. She’s locked down.”
It sounded good.
It even felt mostly true.
But my spine was still prickling.
Cap had told me ten minutes ago that he needed eyes on the west perimeter. Just one hour. That’s all. I’d done hundreds of sweeps like this before. But leaving Amanda behind, even with guys, was starting to feel like cutting a wire I couldn’t reattach.
I’d told myself it was tactical. That I couldn’t be everywhere at once. That Cap wouldn’t have pulled me if it wasn’t necessary.
But my body didn’t care about logic.
Every step away from the clubhouse felt like pressure building behind my ribs, like something stretched too tight. I replayed the last look Amanda had given me when I left her with Ariel. Calm. Trusting. Like she believed me when I said I’d be back soon.
That trust sat heavy in my chest.
I checked my comms again, even though nothing had changed. All channels clear. All signals green.
Safe.
I told myself that word like it meant something.
“Let’s just make it quick,” I muttered, already heading for the gate.
We loaded into the Rover. I double-checked the comms, adjusted the scope on my rifle, and tried to ignore the way my chest was tightening like a vice.
“She’s safe,” Ranger said, not looking at me. “You wouldn’t have left if she wasn’t.”
He was right.
And still—
I couldn’t shake the thought that she was only safe when I was right by her side.
The west perimeter was dense.
The trees pressed in tighter the farther we went. Branches clawed at our gear. The ground dipped and rose unevenly, forcing careful footing. Every snapped twig sounded louder than it should’ve.
This was the kind of terrain that rewarded patience.
And punished mistakes.
I caught myself glancing back toward the compound more than once, even though it was already out of sight. That didn’t sit right with me either. I trusted my team. Trusted the protocols.
I just didn’t trust this silence.
Ranger and I moved quietly, scanning with scopes, checking the sensors one by one. The air was still. Too still. Not even a breeze to rustle the leaves.
I hated it.
“Second sensor clear,” Ranger muttered, pulling back from the tree trunk. “Signal glitch must’ve been weather.”
“It didn’t rain last night,” I replied.
Ranger didn’t respond right away. Neither of us liked coincidences.
Weather glitches didn’t explain clean resets. They didn’t explain timing.
And they definitely didn’t explain why my instincts were screaming like this was a setup.
I scanned the tree line again, slower this time. If someone wanted to blind us, this was the way to do it. Pull eyes outward. Thin the perimeter.
Make us choose.
He hesitated. “Could’ve been dew, or the temp swing.”
I didn’t answer. My eyes were already on the next tree.
We kept moving, checking line after line, finding nothing. But my tension didn’t ease. If anything, it was coiling tighter in my gut.
“I don’t like it,” I muttered.
Ranger shot me a look. “You’ve been twitchy all morning.”
“Because something’s wrong,” I snapped. “I don’t know what. But it’s in the air.”
He didn’t argue. He’d been around me long enough to know that when I felt it like this, something was coming. Always.
By the time we reached the final sensor, I was seconds from calling it off. Telling Cap to flood the property with every brother we had and lock this place down until the skin stopped crawling off my fucking back.
The sensor chirped green.
Clear.
Still clear.
“Let’s head back,” I said, voice like gravel. “I want eyes on her.”
Ranger didn’t argue. He packed up his gear fast and jogged to the Rover like he could feel it too now.
We were only gone for forty minutes.
I kept thinking about the clock.
Forty minutes wasn’t enough time for a full breach. Not if they were playing it safe. Not if they were being watched.
Unless they weren’t trying to get out clean.
Unless the plan didn’t involve getting away unseen at all.
Forty fucking minutes.
And that’s all it took to change everything.
Something dropped in my gut before we even pulled up to the gates.
The gate stood open.
Not forced. Not damaged.
Just open.
My heart slammed so hard it stole my breath. Every scenario raced through my head at once. The guys distracted, someone inside hurt, Amanda alone for even a second too long.
I was already moving before the Rover stopped, boots hitting gravel hard enough to jar my knees.
I didn’t know what set it off. The wrong pitch of silence, maybe. The lack of movement. The air felt heavy. Like the moment before a storm breaks, when everything holds its breath.
Ranger noticed too.
His hands tightened on the wheel. “Feels off.”
I was already reaching for the radio. “Gate team, report.”
Static.
Ranger tried again. “East gate, come in.”
More static.
I didn’t wait. I flung the door open before we fully stopped and hit the ground running. I took the clubhouse steps three at a time, shoved the doors open, and—
Chaos.
Ariel was screaming from down the hall. Doc was halfway through the corridor, shouting orders. One of the guys, Coyote, had blood pouring from his nose. Brutus was tearing open doors, yelling Amanda’s name.
Cap’s voice cracked like thunder:
“AMANDA’S TAKEN!”
My whole body locked.
It felt like the fucking world cracked in half.
I turned so fast my vision blurred and slammed Coyote into the wall.
“What happened?!”
He whimpered—blood, panic, everything leaking out of him at once.
“Two guys—masks—chloroform—fuck, man—they knew where she’d be—they waited for the moment Ariel left—they said—” His voice broke. “They said to tell you: ‘The elevator opens for everyone eventually.’”
Something in me snapped.
I dropped him and hit the floor with my fists, hard enough to rattle the fucking walls. The rage didn’t even feel like rage. It felt like grief trying to escape through my knuckles.
Ghost burst through the door seconds later.
His eyes scanned the room once.
The bodies.
The blood.
Me on my knees, fists bleeding, chest heaving.
“…Scout?” he asked, voice already sharpening.
“Amanda,” Cap growled.
Ghost went still.
The kind of still that happens before something dies.
He whispered, “I’ll kill them all.”
I pushed to my feet, panting.
That fucking note. The rag. The exact timing. This wasn’t random.
This was surgical.
Targeted.
For me.
For her.
Cap’s voice sliced through the silence like a blade.
“TRACK THE VAN. NOW.”