Chapter 21 #2
“Forty-five minutes out,” Flagler said. “Pisses me off, but the port’s covered. Your two men are there. Miami PD. Feds. It’s covered. Your job is not to die before the night is over.”
Buddy almost laughed. It came out as breath—thin, strained. “Copy.” He ended the call.
Dawson shot him a quick glance. “That sounded promising.”
“It’s something,” Buddy said, which wasn’t a lie, but wasn’t close to the whole truth. His pulse hammered hard enough to make his jaw ache.
The comm crackled.
Dove’s voice—tight. Moving. “Buddy—we’ve got a situation.”
Buddy tensed. “Report.”
“When we broke off to go dark? They tailed us. They’re following Keaton and me, now.”
Sterling chimed in next. “Same here. The second we pulled out, they pulled in behind us. They’re not subtle about it either. Riding my ass like they want to be lovers.”
Dawson’s fingers tightened on the wheel. “We’re driving into a trap.”
Buddy didn’t deny it. Couldn’t. His brain had already leapt ahead to the conclusion he’d been trying not to look at head-on:
EJ didn’t need them split. He needed them funneled.
“How far out are you?” Buddy asked.
“Ten minutes,” Dove answered. Breathless.
“Ten-ish here,” Sterling added.
Ten minutes. Fuck.
They’d already been following longer than that.
Longer than the deadline EJ had given him to decide.
You can’t save them all.
He’d known that. But hearing Sterling and Dove confirm it? Feeling the pull of the trap springing shut?
It scorched something inside him.
“Dove,” Buddy said, voice like grit. “Lose your tail.”
“What?”
“Now. Fast. Clean. Just fucking do it. And then get close to me. Close enough that you can feel me breathe but not see me. You know what I mean?”
A beat. “Copy that.”
“Sterling,” Buddy said next. “Same order. Drop them hard. Go dark.”
“Understood.” Sterling’s tone shifted—professional, razor-sharp.
Dawson shifted his grip on the wheel. “This is nuts, even for you.”
“I know,” Buddy said. He didn’t. Not fully. But he knew enough.
The SUV in front of them changed speed slightly—subtle drift, not enough to draw attention, just enough to remind him whose game they were in.
“Vehicle One,” Buddy said into comms, “peel off. Do it slowly. Natural.”
Fletcher answered, “Roger that. Breaking.”
The road stretched out ahead like a throat tightening with every mile. Darkness pressed in from all sides. No streetlights. No traffic. No witnesses. Exactly what EJ needed.
Buddy’s phone was suddenly heavy in his hand.
Dawson saw it. Saw where Buddy’s mind was going. Shook his head once. “This is insane.”
“Yeah,” Buddy murmured. “It is. But you know it’s the only way out of this mess.” He hit EJ’s number.
The line clicked instantly, like EJ had been waiting with his finger over the button.
“Well,” EJ said, “this is a pleasant surprise.”
Buddy stared through the windshield at the black SUV carting Fallon deeper into darkness. His heartbeat was a fist trying to punch his ribs open. “It’s been more than ten minutes,” Buddy said. “I thought I would’ve heard from you by now.”
“I wanted to be generous,” EJ said. “It’s a difficult decision. I thought you deserved a little extra time to contemplate—”
“I’ve decided,” Buddy cut in.
“Oh, really?”
“Fallon and Linda,” Buddy said as his pulse hit his throat like a bomb.
“I’m not shocked, but I am a little surprised that you said that with such conviction. Where’s the horror over the ones you can’t save?”
“I’m not a fed anymore. Those girls aren’t my problem. I don’t care what you do with them.”
Dawson flinched. Hard.
Buddy remained stone-faced.
“Lovers over strangers. It’s predictable, even for you. But the callousness of your decision is a fascinating development.”
“What can I say? After a while, you stop noticing all the dead girls piling up around you.”
“Fine. You made the choice. Not me.”
“I want them alive and unharmed,” Buddy said. “That’s the deal.”
“Oh, you’ll get them,” EJ said. “I’ll text you a location—”
“No.” Buddy’s voice cracked like a gunshot. “You’re not dictating terms.”
Dawson hissed a warning under his breath but didn’t speak.
“You’re in no position to negotiate,” EJ said with an amused tone.
“Bullshit,” Buddy snapped. “My team is standing down. I’m coming alone. You pull over half a mile up the road. You hand Fallon and Linda over. I drive away. You drive away. And that’s the end of it.”
Silence crackled for what seemed like minutes, but in reality, was only seconds.
“And the cop?” EJ asked pleasantly. “The one driving your car?”
Buddy didn’t blink. “Small-town cop. No jurisdiction. No credibility. He can’t touch you.” He stared straight ahead, refusing to chance glimpsing Dawson’s expression. “He’ll learn to live with the choice.”
A soft, delighted exhale. “Ballard… I misjudged you.”
Buddy’s stomach rebelled at the praise, but he pushed through it. “So?” Buddy asked. “Do we have a deal?”
“We do,” EJ said. “Half a mile. Don’t be late.”
The line went dead.
Buddy lowered the phone.
Dawson stared at him. “You think he’s actually going to let them go?”
“No,” Buddy said. “I think he’s going to try to kill all three of us.”
Dawson nodded once—grim, steady. “Good. Then we’re on the same page.”
Buddy’s chest tightened, but not from fear. From certainty.
“Get everyone ready,” Buddy said, his voice low, dangerous. “Because this ends tonight.”
He looked straight ahead—into darkness, into what waited, into the trap EJ laid—and refused to flinch.
He wasn't walking in to sacrifice himself.
He was walking in to win.
Even if he had to burn the whole damn world down to do it.
The SUV rolled to a stop so smoothly Fallon almost didn’t feel it—just the faint forward sway of her body and the soft, deliberate click of the transmission sliding into park.
“Radio.” EJ’s voice dropped to a near-whisper.
The driver handed it back without a word.
EJ pressed the button. “No one touches him. Not yet. I’ll have a word or two before we begin.” A beat. “And hold your fire until I say. I want the old lady dropped clean. I want to see his face when it happens.”
Fallon’s stomach turned to stone.
Linda whimpered beside her, a thin sound crushed beneath layers of gag and fear. Fallon leaned her shoulder in, as close as her zip-tied wrists allowed. “I’ve got you,” she whispered. “I promise. I’ve got you.” Her voice shook. She didn’t care.
EJ clicked off the radio, pocketed it, and looked over his shoulder. “Try not to faint,” he told Fallon lightly. “I’d hate for you to miss the show.”
The driver climbed out. Warm night air slipped inside—sticky, swamp-scented, and too quiet. No traffic. No witnesses. No chance in hell this ended well.
Fallon inched forward just enough to see through a sliver of the door.
Buddy stood outside Dawson’s SUV.
Alive.
Walking.
Steady—though his shoulders held a tension she hadn’t seen since the Ring Finger case. He scanned the tree line like he expected it to spit out demons.
Maybe it would.
EJ opened his door and stepped out.
Fallon couldn’t see Buddy’s expression, but she heard his voice—low, gravel dragged across steel. “Where are they?”
EJ laughed softly. “Tucked away safely in the backseat. Don’t worry. You’ll get your tearful reunion.”
“Cut the shit,” Buddy said.
Buddy’s voice stabbed something sharp and hot into Fallon’s ribs—love, fear, fury, all boiling together.
The conversation blurred for her—not the words, the intent. EJ was soaking up every second. Buddy wasn’t giving him a damn thing.
Then the driver approached EJ, bent in, and whispered something too low for Fallon to catch.
EJ froze.
A strange flicker crossed his face—shock, confusion, maybe even fear.
Buddy’s voice sharpened. “Is there a problem?”
EJ straightened. “There’s been a change of plans.” He drew his gun.
Everything turned to chaos.
Gunfire erupted from the trees—sharp cracks tearing through the night. Bullets spat into metal. Glass exploded behind Fallon’s head. She dropped instantly, dragging Linda with her, curling her body over the older woman’s as best she could. Linda shook. Fallon shook harder.
Someone screamed—maybe the driver—before a body slammed against the outside of the vehicle hard enough to rock the frame. More shots rained down, punching holes into the doors, the hood, everywhere.
Fallon kept her head down, breath ragged, ears ringing. The world shrank to Linda’s trembling and the acrid sting of gunpowder seeping into the SUV.
More shots. A grunt. Something hit the pavement.
She risked a glance—just a split second.
A shattered window. Tree line lit by muzzle flashes. Shadows moving. Someone in dark clothes falling. Someone else shouting orders she couldn’t make out.
Then pain ripped across her forearm—fast and white-hot.
She gasped and dropped down again. Warmth spread across her arm. Not deep. Not deadly. But blood was blood.
“Fallon,” Linda’s voice was muffled, terrified, barely a sound under the gag.
“I’m okay,” Fallon whispered, even though her pulse was slamming at her throat.
Then… Silence. Not peace. But the kind of quiet that vibrated with leftover violence.
A crunch of gravel approached the SUV.
Fallon braced—every muscle tight, breath trapped.
The door yanked open, and she gasped.
Buddy.
Bloody lip. Blackened eye. Sweat streaked down his cheek. A gunshot wound punched through his thigh, staining denim dark. And yet—he stood solid in the doorway, chest heaving, jaw set like he’d kill the entire world before he’d let anyone hurt her.
Fallon’s breath broke. “Buddy—”
He moved in immediately, pocketknife out, cutting her restraints with a sharp, angry swipe that felt like a vow.
“Are you hurt?” His voice was rough, panicked under the gravel.
“Just—my arm,” she whispered.
His gaze flicked down. Fury lit his eyes—bright and lethal. “I’ve got you,” he said, and this time it wasn’t a promise. It was a damn oath.
He cut Linda free next. The older woman collapsed into Fallon’s arms, sobbing. Buddy supported them both, steady despite the blood soaking through his jeans.
Dove and Keaton appeared behind him. Sterling and Cullen came from the other side. Shadows moved everywhere—team members barking orders, dragging bodies clear, checking for threats.
Fallon didn’t look at any of it.
Just him. He was alive. He was standing. He’d come for her.
Buddy cupped her face with a shaking hand. “Fallon…” His forehead dropped to hers, breath ragged with adrenaline and something rawer.
She lifted her good arm around his waist, fingers gripping the back of his shirt. “I thought—you—”
“No.” His voice cracked. He pulled her closer, one hand splayed across the back of her neck like he needed the contact to stay upright. “I’m here. I’m right here.”
She mouthed his name. He kissed her—desperate, messy, tasting like blood and smoke and everything she’d prayed she wouldn’t lose.
When he pulled back, his thumb brushed her cheek. His eyes were wrecked.
“I love you,” he said—no hesitation, no fear, just truth spoken by a man who’d nearly died with it unsaid. “I’ve loved you for a long damn time.”
Her breath left her in a trembling rush. “I love you, too.”
Sirens screamed in the distance—loud, sharp, cutting through the night.
Dove jogged closer. “Ambulance is three minutes out. You both need to get checked out.”
Buddy didn’t let go of her.
Didn’t even try.
Fallon leaned her forehead into his shoulder, letting herself finally shake, finally breathe, finally feel everything at once—terror, grief, love, relief—
Alive.
They were alive.
And EJ Vance would never again touch another girl.
Tears blurred the edges of everything—Buddy’s face, the trees, the distant blue wash of emergency lights. “Tessa,” Fallon whispered. “He told me he sold her. That it was supposed to be me, but because—”
Buddy pressed a gentle finger to her lips. “Don’t do that to yourself.”
His fingers threaded through the stray stands of hair fanning her face, slow, grounding, tender in a way that made her breath hitch.
“If EJ was responsible for Tessa’s disappearance, then we finally have a starting point.
A real one. And I’ll follow it until there’s nothing left to chase.
” His voice settled into something fierce and protective.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to find out what happened to her. I swear it.”
The ambulance rolled to a stop twenty feet away, its lights strobing across the asphalt. Sterling carried Linda toward the paramedics, calling for blankets, saline, and a stretcher.
Fallon held on to Buddy like he was the only solid thing left in a world that had tried to split open beneath her feet. His eyes—God, those eyes—were steady and warm and full of a love she could actually see, now, not just feel.
In that moment, she knew—absolutely, undeniably—that this man would walk through hell for her. And … she’d wrestle an angry python and a mother alligator at the same damn time for him.
Her chest swelled with something she hadn’t dared imagine she’d ever get again.
A future.
A real one.
For the first time in her adult life, she saw it—sharp and whole, and not the least bit temporary. She saw the porch light and the picket fence. She saw the baby carriage. She saw them. Together.
Hopefully, the baby carriage part wouldn’t scare him away.
Though, judging by the way he held her—bloody, battered, refusing to let go—she didn’t think anything could.