Chapter 47
Ace
“The shop?” I snap. “What kind of movement?”
“Heat signature just popped,” Blaze says. “One inside. Maybe two—I’m trying to confirm.”
My pulse spikes.
Someone’s inside her shop.
Not watching.
Inside.
“Stay on him,” I tell Trigger and Beast, jerking my chin toward the guy on the ground. “Don’t let him go anywhere.”
“Got it,” Beast says, tightening his hold.
I turn—
And Tessa is already there.
Eyes locked on mine.
“I’m coming.”
I don’t argue.
No time.
“Move.”
We run.
Back through the trees.
Faster this time.
No stealth. No patience.
Just speed.
Branches snap under our feet. The river fades behind us.
My lungs burn—but I push harder.
Because this isn’t just a location.
This is her place.
Her life.
And someone is inside it.
I hear her behind me—keeping up, pushing just as hard.
No hesitation.
No fear slowing her down.
Good.
Because I don’t have time to carry her.
I need her sharp.
We break through the tree line.
The SUV comes into view.
Blaze is already inside, tracking.
I yank the door open. “Status!”
“One inside,” he says. “Moving. Slow. Controlled.”
Not panicked.
Not random.
That’s worse.
“Armed?”
“Unknown.”
Perfect.
“Let’s go.”
The drive back stretches too long.
Every second pulling tight.
Every turn not fast enough.
Tessa sits beside me—silent, focused.
Ready.
I glance at her once.
She’s locked in.
Not the woman from earlier.
Not shaken.
Not uncertain.
This version of her?
She’s stepping into the fight.
My hand finds hers for a second.
Squeezes.
She squeezes back.
Then we’re there.
The shop looks exactly the same.
That’s what makes it worse.
Lights off. Door closed. Windows still.
Like nothing’s wrong.
But everything is.
I can feel it.
I kill the engine.
Silence drops hard.
Too quiet.
“Same plan,” I say. “We clear fast. You stay on me.”
“I will.”
No hesitation.
Good.
We approach the door.
Weapons up.
Breathing steady.
I pause just outside.
Listen.
There—
Movement.
Inside.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Not searching.
Not rushing.
Waiting.
I glance at Tessa.
She nods.
Ready.
I push the door open.
The bell chimes.
Soft.
Normal.
Wrong.
I move first—fast.
Clear left.
Then right.
Nothing immediate.
But the air—
It feels off.
The space doesn’t feel empty.
It feels watched.
“Clear front,” I say.
We move deeper.
Toward the back.
That’s where Blaze said the movement was.
I round the corner—
And stop.
The back room glows.
Not from overhead lights.
Candles.
Dozens of them.
Flickering across tables, shelves—casting shadows that move like something alive.
And in the center—
An arrangement.
Wildflowers.
Larger this time.
Carefully placed.
Beautiful.
Intentional.
Wrong.
“This is wrong,” Tessa whispers behind me.
Yeah.
It is.
I scan the room.
Corners. Shadows. Entry points.
No movement.
No threat I can see.
But that doesn’t mean anything.
This is controlled.
Planned.
Someone took their time here.
“Blaze,” I say low.
“I don’t like this,” he answers immediately.
Me neither.
Tessa steps forward.
Slow.
Drawn to it.
“Tessa—” I warn.
“I know,” she says quietly.
But she doesn’t stop.
I stay right behind her.
Close enough to grab her.
Close enough to pull her out if this goes bad.
Because this?
This is for her.
I can feel it.
She reaches the arrangement.
Stops.
There’s something tucked inside.
A card.
My body tightens.
“Don’t—”
Too late.
She’s already pulling it free.
“What does it say?” I ask.
She opens it.
Reads.
And everything in her stills.
“What?” I demand.
She doesn’t answer.
Just hands it to me.
I take it.
Read.
And something cold settles deep in my chest.
YOU CHOSE THE WRONG SIDE.
NEXT TIME—YOU WON’T GET HER BACK.
I lift my gaze slowly.
Scan the room again.
Every candle.
Every flower.
Every detail.
This wasn’t rushed.
This wasn’t sloppy.
This was deliberate.
Personal.
A message.
And the message is clear.
This isn’t over.
Not even close.
Behind us—
The door creaks.
I spin.
Weapon up.
Tessa right behind me.
Ready.
But there’s no one there.
Just the empty shop.
The bell swaying slightly.
Like someone just walked out.
Seconds ago.
Close.
Watching.
Waiting.
Letting us see just enough—
To understand exactly what we’re up against.
I step forward, scanning the doorway, the street beyond.
Nothing.
No movement.
No sound.
But I feel it.
That presence.
Still out there.
Still watching.
And now?
It’s not just a threat.
It’s a promise.