Chapter 61 Saint
Saint
Iwake up because something is wrong.
Not a sound.
Not a movement.
A shift.
The kind you feel in your bones when the world changes by half a degree.
I’m already reaching for my gun when I hear it.
A soft click.
Metal.
Not the building settling. Not pipes.
A lock.
I’m out of bed and moving before the second sound comes.
The hallway is dark.
Too dark.
Someone killed the lights.
I move barefoot, silent, breathing slow.
I hear it again.
A whisper of movement near Laney’s door.
I don’t think.
I explode into motion.
The door is already open an inch when I hit it.
Wood slams into the wall.
A shadow turns.
Gun in his hand.
I fire.
The sound is deafening in the narrow hallway.
The man goes down hard, crashing backward.
Another shadow moves at the end of the hall.
“Saint!” Laney screams.
I fire again—miss—and the second man bolts.
“Trigger!” I roar into my comm.
Heavy footsteps thunder behind me.
I kick the fallen man’s gun away and drag him into the light.
Blood is already spreading across the carpet.
He’s not getting up.
Laney is in the doorway, clutching Emmy to her chest, shaking.
“Get back in the room,” I order.
She doesn’t move.
Her eyes are locked on the blood.
On the body.
“They found me,” she whispers.
“No,” I say, grabbing her shoulders. “They didn’t. They found me.”
Trigger, Wolf, Havoc, and two others flood the hallway.
“Second suspect fled,” I say. “Dark clothes. Armed. Professional.”
Wolf swears.
Trigger is already on the radio.
“We’re locking the place down.”
I take Laney from the hallway myself and shut the door behind us.
She’s shaking so hard her teeth are chattering.
“They’re here,” she keeps saying. “I told you. I told you.”
I kneel in front of her. “Laney. Look at me.”
She does.
Tears are running down her face.
“You and Emmy are safe,” I say. “I swear to you. Nobody is taking you.”
A sob breaks out of her.
I pull both of them into my arms.
And in the pit of my stomach, something cold settles.
Because this wasn’t a warning.
This was a kill attempt.