Chapter 13
Hannah
I jolt awake to the thunder of boots on the porch and voices shouting orders outside.
My heart slams against my ribs before I even open my eyes.
The bed feels cold where Silas should be.
I sit up fast and scan the room. He stands by the window, phone jammed to his ear, already in dark jeans, boots, and a black tactical vest that makes his shoulders look even broader.
His free hand checks the magazine in his pistol with quick, practiced snaps.
“Rafe, confirm the coordinates,” he says, voice low and sharp. “Boyd, you got eyes on the second vehicle yet? Thorne, load the extra ammo. We roll in ten.”
Another truck rumbles to life outside, its engine growling deep enough to rattle the glass.
I throw the quilt off and scramble out of bed.
My legs shake as I yank on jeans and a thick sweater.
I shove my feet into boots without bothering with socks.
My pulse races so hard I hear it in my ears.
This is it. The men from the airfield. They found them last night while I slept, and now the whole compound is moving like a machine.
I grab my jacket and hurry down the hall.
The front door stands open. Cold mountain air rushes in, carrying the smell of pine and diesel.
I step onto the porch and freeze at the scene below.
Trucks line the gravel lot in front of the lodge.
Headlights cut through the early dawn gray.
Men move fast and silent. Boyd and Wyatt strap rifles into the back of one pickup.
Chase checks a radio clipped to his belt.
Harlan tosses packs into the bed of another truck.
Rhett and Gavin study a map spread across a hood, pointing at roads I cannot see from here.
Thorne stands beside the biggest truck, tailgate down, loading long black cases I know hold more weapons. He calls out to Eli without looking up. “Medic kit in the front seat. Double the trauma bandages. We don’t know what we’re walking into.”
Silas follows me outside. He ends the call and turns. Our eyes lock. He pulls me against his chest before I can speak. His vest feels hard under my cheek, but his arms wrap around me warm and solid.
“We located them last night,” he says against my hair. “Plate traced to a rental cabin ten miles down the mountain near the old logging road. Two men, maybe more inside. We’re going down to end this. Right now.”
My stomach drops. “Silas, wait. You cannot just charge down there. What if they have more people? What if they’re armed like the crate?”
He cups my face and makes me look at him. His eyes are steady, but I see the fire behind them. “We’ve been planning this since the plate came in. Rafe coordinated overnight. Everyone here knows their role. We hit them hard and quiet. They don’t get a chance to run or call for backup.”
I clutch his vest. “I’m scared. For you. For all of you.”
He kisses my forehead, quick and firm. “You stay here with the women. Gates locked. Harper, Emma, Fiona, and Kayley are inside with the kids. Eli stays back too in case anything comes up. You’re safe. We’ll be back before lunch. It’s all over soon. I promise.”
I want to argue. I want to beg him to wait for more men or something. But I see the set of his jaw. This is his mountain. These are his men. He will not stop until the threat is gone. So I nod instead and rise on my toes to kiss him hard. He kisses me back like he’s memorizing the feel of me.
“Be careful,” I whisper when we break apart.
“Always.” He squeezes my hand once more, then turns and climbs into the lead truck.
Engines roar to life in a chorus. The convoy rolls out single file, tires crunching gravel, taillights disappearing into the trees.
I stand on the porch until the last sound fades.
The compound feels too quiet after that.
Harper appears in the lodge doorway with Poppi on her hip. “Come inside, Hannah. Coffee is on. We wait together.”
I follow her in. The other women sit around the big table with Aidan playing blocks on the floor.
Emma pours me a mug. Fiona offers a plate of toast. Kayley gives me a small smile that does not reach her eyes.
We all know what’s happening down the mountain.
No one says much. The minutes stretch long and tight.
I sip the coffee but it tastes like nothing. My mind spins worst-case pictures. Silas in a shootout. One of the men getting hurt. The bad guys slipping away and circling back here. I check my phone every few seconds even though the signal up here is spotty. Nothing.
Then it buzzes in my hand. Unknown number. I swipe it open fast.
Problem at the hospital. Your father took a turn. Doctors need you now. Come immediately. Do not tell anyone.
My blood turns to ice. The message does not say who it’s from, but the fear crashes over me anyway. Dad. The secure facility Silas moved him to. Something went wrong. I picture him alone, struggling, the security detail maybe overwhelmed. I can’t sit here drinking coffee while he needs me.
I stand too fast. The chair scrapes loud. “I need some air.”
Harper looks up, concern in her eyes. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just… restless.” I force a smile that feels fake. “Be right back.”
I slip out the side door before anyone can follow.
My car sits where I left it, keys still in the ignition because I never thought I would need them again.
The compound is quiet now. The men are gone.
The women are inside with the kids. No one watches the gate.
I climb in, start the engine, and roll through the open gate before guilt can stop me.
Silas told me to stay. But Dad needs me. I have to check.
The mountain road twists down fast. I grip the wheel tight and push the car faster than I should.
Trees blur past. My phone sits in the cup holder, silent now.
I keep glancing at it, willing another message to come.
Nothing. The fear claws higher with every mile.
What if the men down the mountain already know I left? What if this is a trap?
A black truck appears in my rearview. It hangs back at first, then closes the gap.
My stomach flips. I press the gas harder.
The road narrows, switchbacks coming quick.
The truck matches my speed. Its headlights stay bright even though the sun is up.
I take a sharp left. It follows. Too close now. My hands sweat on the wheel.
I try to call Silas. The call drops before it rings.
No signal. I curse under my breath and focus on the road.
Another curve. The truck surges forward.
Metal scrapes metal as it rams my rear bumper.
My car fishtails. I fight the wheel, tires screeching on gravel.
The truck rams again, harder. My head snaps forward. Pain blooms in my neck.
The road drops away on my right. I see the edge too late. The truck hits me a third time, shoving me sideways. My car slides off the shoulder. Dirt and rocks spray. I scream as the world tilts. Trees rush at me. Metal crunches. The airbag explodes in my face. Everything goes white for a second.
I blink hard, dazed. The car rests at an angle in a ditch, nose buried in brush.
Steam hisses from the hood. I taste blood where I bit my tongue.
My door yanks open before I can reach for the handle.
Rough hands grab my arms. I fight, kicking and swinging.
A man with a scar leans in. His breath smells like cigarettes.
“Nice try, girl,” he growls. “Boss said you would come running for daddy.”
I claw at his face. He slaps my hands away and hauls me out.
My knees buckle on the uneven ground. Another man waits by the black truck, engine still running.
They zip-tie my wrists behind my back fast. I twist and shout Silas’s name even though I know he can’t hear.
The scarred man clamps a hand over my mouth.
Something sharp pricks my neck. Cold spreads through my veins.
My vision blurs at the edges. I fight it, but my legs give out.
They drag me toward their truck. My last clear thought is of Silas down the mountain, fighting for me, and Dad somewhere waiting.
Then darkness swallows everything. The engine roars as they drive me away, and I slip under, helpless, wondering if I will ever see the mountain again.