57. Felicity
FELICITY
The red laser dot trembled against my chest.
Tiny.
Deadly.
My entire body froze.
Rain hammered the barn roof while more laser sights slid through the darkness around us.
One on Wolf.
Two on Trigger above.
Another centered directly on Rook’s forehead.
The Hollow Men had complete sightlines.
Complete control.
Outside, Shepherd’s calm voice returned through the loudspeaker.
“Now we can finally have a civilized conversation.”
Nobody inside the barn moved.
Nobody dared.
Because one wrong twitch?—
and we all died.
Hersh slowly shifted in front of me anyway.
Blocking part of the laser sight with his own body.
My heart nearly stopped.
“Hersh—”
“Don’t,” he said quietly.
His voice never shook.
Not even now.
Shepherd noticed too.
“How romantic.”
Rook’s expression turned lethal.
“What do you want?”
“The ledger.”
“And the girl?” Rook asked coldly.
A pause stretched outside.
Then:
“She’s unfortunate collateral.”
Ice flooded my bloodstream.
Hersh’s entire body changed beside me.
Not fear.
Not panic.
Pure murderous intent.
I felt it instantly.
The man standing beside me wasn’t just protective anymore.
He was seconds away from killing everyone outside that barn with his bare hands if he had to.
“She’s not collateral,” Hersh said.
Even Trigger glanced down sharply at the tone in his voice.
“What do you know about her?” Hersh demanded.
Another flash of lightning lit the barn.
And for half a second?—
I saw movement outside the shattered doorway.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Black tactical gear.
Watching us.
Watching me.
“She was leverage,” Shepherd replied simply.
Rage flashed across Hersh’s face instantly.
Years of pain.
Years of restraint.
Gone.
“You used her?”
“No,” Shepherd corrected calmly. “Mercer did.”
Rook subtly shifted position beside the lockbox.
Strategic.
Careful.
Buying time.
“She was never supposed to survive this long.”
The words punched straight through me.
I stopped breathing.
Outside, Shepherd continued in the same cold voice:
“Her father complicated things.”
My throat tightened painfully.
“He refused to hand over the evidence.”
“He tried protecting his daughter instead.”
Thunder exploded overhead.
“She should’ve disappeared with him.”
“No,” Hersh growled.
The word came out pure violence.
Shepherd ignored him.
“The senator grew impatient after the ranch fire failed.” A pause. “Then your relationship became… inconvenient.”
I felt Hersh go rigid beside me.
Oh crap.
They really had been watching us.
Watching him.
Watching everything.
“She was sixteen,” Hersh said dangerously.
“And already distracting you.”
Wolf muttered, “I’m officially voting we kill this guy slowly.”
Trigger nodded immediately from above. “Seconded.”
For one brief second?—
despite everything?—
I almost laughed.
Then Shepherd spoke again.
“You know what your real problem is, Blaze?”
Hersh raised his rifle slightly.
“What?”
“You still think you can save people.”
The barn fell silent.
Because suddenly?—
something shifted in Hersh’s face.
Not weakness.
Memory.
Pain.
Deep enough even I could see it.
“You remember the canyon,” Shepherd said softly.
Oh no.
Rook’s head snapped toward the doorway instantly.
“Don’t.”
But Shepherd kept going.
“Twelve girls in a transport container.” His voice stayed eerily calm. “You cut them out yourself.”
Hersh looked like he’d been punched in the chest.
I stared at him in horror.
“The smell stayed with you for weeks, didn’t it?” Shepherd continued.
“Hersh…” I whispered.
His breathing changed.
Sharp now.
Barely controlled.
“Shepherd,” Rook warned coldly, “you’re pushing the wrong man.”
“No,” Shepherd replied.
“I’m reminding him why he failed.”
And suddenly I understood.
Hersh didn’t just hate these people.
This wasn’t revenge.
This was personal.
Deeply personal.
Because fifteen years ago?—
he found those girls.
And he never forgave himself for being too late.
This man needs to die.