Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Bobby
The second I woke up, I knew something was wrong.
The air was too still, too empty. My body tensed instinctively, muscles tightening before my brain had even caught up. I turned my head, expecting to see Gabbi curled up in her blanket a few feet away, maybe still asleep or pretending to be just to piss me off.
But she wasn’t there.
I pushed up on my elbows, eyes sweeping the small camp, my heart thudding harder with every passing second. No Gabbi. No camera. No footprints leading to the fire.
And then I saw it.
A small scrap of paper near my gear.
I snatched it up, my pulse hammering in my ears as I read the rushed, scribbled words.
"Trust me. I’ll find a way."
I crushed the paper in my fist, my teeth grinding together so hard my jaw ached.
"Goddamn it, Gabbi."
I was on my feet in an instant, grabbing my rifle, slinging my pack over my shoulder, my hands moving on instinct. She was gone. Left on her own, walked straight into a fucking death trap like she had some kind of goddamn death wish.
I moved fast, pushing through the trees, tracking her movements as best as I could.
The ground was still damp from the storm, but I could make out the faint signs of her passing—the shift of leaves, the slight depressions in the mud where she had stepped carefully but not carefully enough. She had been rushing. Determined.
Stupid.
The camp wasn’t far. We had spent all of yesterday watching it, mapping out the patrol routes, counting bodies. It had been the beginning of a plan—a slow, methodical way to get in. And she had just thrown herself inside without a second thought.
I cursed under my breath, moving quickly but staying quiet, my breath coming faster, the rage in my chest twisting tight. I didn’t care what her plan was. I didn’t care what she thought she was doing. All I cared about was getting her the hell out of there before it was too late.
It took me less than an hour to reach the ridge overlooking the camp. I dropped low, crouching behind the trees, my rifle gripped tight in my hands as I scanned the area. The perimeter was the same as before—armed guards, tripwires, well-worn patrol routes. No sign of Gabbi.
And then I saw it.
The main cabin. The biggest one, the one that had to belong to Victor Costa.
And inside, through the window, sitting too close to the man himself—Gabbi.
My stomach turned to stone.
She was laughing. Smiling. Touching his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like she wasn’t sitting inches away from a man who could have her killed with a single word.
I gritted my teeth so hard I tasted blood.
What the fuck was she doing?
I adjusted my position, angling for a better view. Victor was watching her, that sleazy, calculating smirk tugging at his lips, his body language relaxed but predatory. He was testing her, pushing her, trying to decide if she was worth keeping around.
And she was playing along.
My hands tightened around my rifle. Every instinct was screaming at me to move. To storm into that cabin, put a bullet between Victor’s eyes, and drag Gabbi out of there whether she liked it or not.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
I forced myself to take slow, measured breaths, my pulse a steady, punishing beat against my skull. If I moved now, I wouldn’t just be risking her life. I’d be blowing whatever chance she thought she had.
So I waited. Watched.
Gabbi was good—too good. She leaned in just slightly when Victor spoke, let her fingers linger on his wrist for half a second longer than necessary. She was selling it, and he was buying it.
But I could see it.
The stiffness in her shoulders. The way her fingers twitched every now and then, like she was resisting the urge to pull back. The way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
She was terrified.
And I couldn’t fucking help her.
Not yet.
A door creaked open somewhere outside the cabin, and one of Victor’s men leaned in, whispering something in his ear. Victor didn’t react at first, just listened, his dark eyes flicking toward Gabbi like he was considering something.
Then, slowly, he turned back to her, his smirk widening.
"You want to stay here?" His voice was low, smooth, even from this distance. "Prove it."
I stopped breathing.
Victor reached for her.
And Gabbi didn’t move.
I saw the exact moment she forced herself not to flinch, the way she kept her body relaxed, let her head tilt slightly, let that fake, practiced smile touch her lips.
I gripped my rifle so hard my knuckles went white.
If he touched her—if he fucking touched her?—
I was going to burn this place to the ground.
I stayed frozen, my entire body coiled tight, my breath locked in my chest. Gabbi was still smiling, still pretending, still walking the fine, razor-sharp line between convincing and losing control.
I couldn’t move.
Not yet.
But the second that line snapped?—
I’d be there.
And God help anyone who got in my way.