Chapter 3 Saint
Saint
Iwake up because something is wrong.
Not a sound.
Not movement.
A shift.
The kind you feel deep in your bones when the world tilts half a degree and danger slips into the room.
My eyes open in the dark.
My hand is already reaching for the gun on the nightstand.
Then I hear it.
A soft click.
Metal.
Not the building settling.
Not pipes.
A lock.
Adrenaline slams through me.
I’m out of bed and moving before the second sound comes.
The hallway is dark.
Too dark.
Someone killed the lights.
That alone tells me everything I need to know.
This isn’t random.
This is planned.
I move barefoot across the floor, silent, breathing slow, every instinct sharpened.
Then I hear it again.
A whisper of movement.
Right outside Laney’s door.
Something cold settles in my chest.
I don’t think.
I explode into motion.
The door is already cracked open an inch when I hit it.
Wood slams into the wall with a violent crack.
A shadow turns.
Gun in his hand.
I fire.
The blast is deafening in the narrow hallway.
The man jerks backward, crashing hard into the wall before collapsing to the carpet.
Another shadow moves at the far end of the hall.
“Saint!” Laney screams.
I pivot and fire again.
The shot sparks off the wall.
Miss.
The second man bolts for the stairs.
“Trigger!” I roar into my comm.
Heavy footsteps thunder somewhere behind me as the team wakes up and moves.
I kick the fallen man’s gun across the floor and drag him into the dim emergency light spilling from the stairwell.
Blood is already spreading across the floor.
He isn’t getting up.
Laney stands frozen in the doorway, clutching Emmy to her chest so tightly the baby lets out a small cry.
Her entire body is shaking.
“Get back in the room,” I order.
She doesn’t move.
Her eyes are locked on the body.
On the blood.
“They found me,” she whispers.
Fear cracks through her voice like breaking glass.
“No,” I say, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look at me.
“They didn’t find you.”
My voice drops.
“They found me.”
Trigger, Wolf, Havoc, and two more men flood the hallway seconds later.
Weapons drawn.
Eyes sharp.
“Second suspect fled,” I say. “Dark clothes. Armed. Professional.”
Wolf swears under his breath.
Trigger is already on the radio.
“We’re locking the place down.”
Laney is still shaking.
Still staring.
I guide her back into the room myself and shut the door behind us.
Her teeth are chattering.
“They’re here,” she keeps whispering. “I told you. I told you.”
I kneel in front of her.
“Laney.”
She doesn’t stop shaking.
“Laney—look at me.”
Her eyes finally lift to mine.
Tears are streaming down her face.
“You and Emmy are safe,” I say.
The promise settles into the room like steel.
“I swear to you. Nobody is taking you.”
A sob breaks out of her.
The kind she’s clearly been holding back for months.
I pull both of them into my arms.
Emmy is warm against my chest.
Laney is trembling against my shoulder.
And in the pit of my stomach something cold and certain settles.
Because this wasn’t a warning.
This was a kill attempt.
And someone just declared war.