Chapter 14
Silas
The trucks roll up to the logging road cabin in a tight line.
Dust hangs thick in the air from our tires.
I kill the engine first and step out, rifle slung low across my chest. The place looks quiet.
Too quiet. Windows dark. No smoke from the chimney.
No vehicles in the dirt lot except an old rusted Jeep that hasn’t moved in years.
I signal the men to fan out. Boyd takes the left flank with Wyatt.
Chase and Rhett circle right. Rafe stays at my shoulder.
Harlan covers the rear. We move in slow, boots soft on pine needles.
My pulse thuds steady but loud in my ears.
This is where the plate traced. This is where the bastards who came looking for Hannah are supposed to be.
I reach the porch first. Door stands ajar. I nudge it open with the muzzle of my rifle. Inside smells like stale coffee and cigarette smoke. Empty beer cans litter the table. A half-eaten pizza box sits open. But no men. No gear. No sign anyone’s been here in the last hour.
“Clear,” Boyd calls from the back room.
“Clear,” Rhett echoes from the kitchen.
I lower my rifle and curse under my breath. “They’re gone. Someone tipped them or they got spooked.”
Rafe steps inside and scans the room. “Looks like they packed fast. Left the trash but took everything else.”
My phone vibrates in my vest pocket. Harper’s name flashes on the screen. I answer fast. “Harper, what’s up?”
Her voice comes tight. “Silas, Hannah’s gone. She said she needed air, slipped out the side door. We didn’t notice right away. Her car’s missing from the lot. Gates were open. She must’ve driven down.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut. My grip tightens on the phone until the plastic creaks. “When?”
“Ten, maybe fifteen minutes ago. We’re searching the compound now but she’s not here.”
I close my eyes for half a second. Rage and fear boil up together, hot and choking. I swore to protect her. I told her to stay put. She’s out there alone because I left her behind. “Lock everything down. No one in or out. Have Eli, stay with the women and kids. We’re coming back.”
I hang up and turn to the men. They’ve heard enough from my side of the call. Faces go hard. Boyd already has his phone out, checking traffic cams we tapped into last night.
“Hannah left the compound,” I say, voice low and controlled even though I feel like I’m coming apart. “She’s in her car. Heading down the mountain. We need to find her now.”
Rafe steps forward. “Gavin, get on the radio to the sheriff’s office. See if any units spotted her sedan. Boyd, pull every camera feed between here and town.”
Gavin nods and moves to the truck. Boyd’s fingers fly over his screen.
A minute later he looks up. “Black Ford truck spotted on the outskirts of town. Same make and model from Mike’s plate.
Two occupants. And Hannah’s car is in a ditch off the old switchback, mile marker twelve.
Front end smashed. Door open. No sign of her. ”
The world narrows to a pinpoint. My vision tunnels. They took her. They ran her off the road and took her. I swore I’d keep her safe and I failed. The thought rips through me like a blade.
I turn to Rafe and Gavin. “We’re not waiting. Everyone goes after them. Now.”
Rafe meets my eyes. “We’ve got surveillance on the old warehouse district. One of the feeds picked up that black Ford pulling into the abandoned mill on River Road twenty minutes ago. Two men dragged someone inside. Matches Hannah’s build.”
That’s all I need. I head for my truck. “Load up. We hit the warehouse. Hard. Fast. No one leaves alive if they’ve touched her.”
The men move without another word. Engines roar back to life.
We peel out in a cloud of dust, tires spinning on gravel.
I drive lead, foot flat to the floor. The mountain road blurs past. Every second feels like an hour.
I picture Hannah scared, zip-tied, alone in some filthy building. My knuckles turn white on the wheel.
Boyd’s voice crackles over the radio. “Warehouse has two entrances. Front loading dock and a side door. Chain-link fence around the perimeter. We can breach from the east side. Less exposure.”
“Copy,” I say. “Rafe, you and Chase take the side door. Boyd, Wyatt, with me on the dock. Harlan, Thorne, and Rhett cover the perimeter. Gavin, stay on comms and coordinate with any local units that respond. We go in quiet until we’re not.”
The convoy tears down the last stretch of mountain road and hits the highway.
Town limits flash by. We turn onto River Road, a cracked two-lane lined with derelict buildings.
The old mill looms ahead, brick walls stained black from years of neglect.
Windows broken. Chain-link sagging. The black Ford sits parked near the loading dock, tailgate down.
I kill the lights a quarter mile out and pull off onto the shoulder. The men pile out silent and fast. We move through the brush like shadows. My rifle stays up, finger off the trigger but ready. Heart pounds but steady. This is what I trained for. This is what I do.
We reach the fence. Boyd cuts the chain with bolt cutters.
The links fall with a soft clink. We slip through one by one.
Rafe signals left. He and Chase peel off toward the side door.
The rest of us creep to the loading dock.
A rusted metal staircase leads up to the bay doors. One stands cracked open.
I ease up the stairs first. The others follow. Inside smells like oil and mold. Dim light filters through broken skylights. Voices echo from deeper in the building. Low. Angry. One man laughs. Another snaps at him to shut up.
I raise a fist. Stop. Listen.
“She’s not talking,” the scarred one says. “Boss wants her alive. For now.”
My blood goes cold. I motion forward. We slip inside. Shadows stretch long across concrete floors. Crates and old machinery give cover. We move room to room, clearing corners.
Then I see her.
Hannah sits tied to a metal chair in the center of the main floor. Head slumped. Duct tape over her mouth. Bruise blooming on her cheek. Two men stand over her. Scarface holds a phone. The other paces with a pistol loose in his hand.
Rage floods me so hot I taste it. I raise my rifle. Sight on Scarface’s chest. Finger tightens on the trigger.
Rafe’s voice hisses over comms. “We’re in position. Side door clear. Say the word.”
I take a breath. Force calm. “On three. Rafe, breach on my mark. Everyone else, weapons free.”
I count low. “One. Two. Three.”
The side door explodes inward. Gunfire cracks sharp and fast. Scarface spins toward the noise. I fire twice. Center mass. He drops. The other man raises his pistol. Boyd takes him down with a single shot.
Silence falls sudden and heavy. I sprint across the floor. Drop to my knees in front of Hannah. My hands shake as I cut the zip ties with my knife, and peel the tape off her mouth gentle as I can. She gasps air, her eyes fluttering open.
“Silas,” she whispers.
“I’ve got you.” I pull her into my arms. Hold her tight against my chest. “You’re safe. It’s over.”
She clings to me. Sobs quiet against my vest. I rock her slow. The men move around us. Securing the scene. Checking bodies. Calling it in.
But right now none of that matters. She’s here. Breathing. In my arms. I failed to keep her locked down but I got her back. And I’ll spend every day making sure nothing like this ever happens again.
I kiss her forehead. “Let’s go home, baby girl.”
She nods against me. “Home.”
I lift her carefully. Carry her out of the warehouse and into the daylight. The mountain waits up there. Our cabin. Our life. And this time I’m never letting her out of my sight.