Chapter 23
ASHER
Damon’s truck skids into the driveway, gravel flying. He barely lets the engine die before he’s out, striding toward us with that lethal calm that means he’s barely holding it together.
“Signal’s back,” Zane reports, not looking up from the surveillance maps. “But Mia’s phone is dead.”
Damon doesn’t react right away, but I see the way his fingers flex at his sides. He knows. We all do. Jason has them.
I cut in. "We searched the forest. No tracks leading away. No obvious vehicle marks past the road. He was careful."
Damon exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Where the hell did he take them?”
Zane glances at me, then back at Damon. “That’s the problem. We don’t know.”
Damon swears under his breath, stepping toward the monitors, scanning useless camera feeds. The jammer might be fried, but Jason was methodical. He didn’t just cut off communications—he erased their trail.
But he made one mistake.
“He wants us to chase him,” I say, realization clicking into place.
Damon turns sharply. “What?”
“This wasn’t about disappearing,” I explain. “If he wanted to vanish with them, he would’ve taken more time, covered his tracks even better. But he left just enough for us. He wants us to come after him.”
Zane leans forward, eyes dark. “Yeah, but where?”
I run a hand through my hair, thinking. “He wouldn’t risk staying close. The first place we’d look is an abandoned property, but Jason’s not that sloppy.”
Damon’s jaw clenches. “Then what? We just sit here?”
“No.” I shake my head. “We figure out where Jason thinks we’d never check.”
Silence settles, heavy and tense. We’re missing something.
I spread out the photos we found in the deer blind, each one making my stomach churn. Shots of the house from different angles, timestamps proving he’d been watching us for days. Maybe longer.
“This isn’t his work,” I say, scanning the meticulous placement of the cameras, the way the surveillance was set up. “He doesn’t have the skillset for it. He probably hired someone.”
Zane exhales sharply. “Or used people from his criminal network.”
Damon studies the images, his fingers tapping against the table. His expression is dark, unreadable. But I know the fury underneath.
“But how does he keep finding us?” I ask. “We ditched the bug in the bear. We switched safehouses. We’ve been careful.”
Damon’s jaw tightens. “We didn’t take her far enough away, and he spread a wide net to find us.”
The thought makes my stomach turn. He knew we’d come here. He was waiting for us to get comfortable.
Damon suddenly slams his fist against the table. “Leaving Mia and the girls vulnerable.”
The room goes quiet. We all feel it—the rage, the failure, the fact that Jason played us.
Zane exhales, pacing the length of the room. “Alright. Let’s think. He didn’t just snatch them randomly. He planned this. That means he has a location in mind. A place he feels safe.”
Damon nods once, all business now. I drag a hand through my hair, the weight of everything that happened today bearing down on me.
The maps, the photos, the deafening silence where Mia’s voice should be.
“Do you think it’s our fault?” I ask, the words coming out hoarse. “That we let ourselves get distracted?”
Zane exhales sharply, jaw clenching. “No.” But there’s something hesitant in his voice.
Damon shakes his head, hands braced on the table, but he doesn’t deny it outright. “We should’ve been ahead of him. Anticipated the next move. Instead, we got comfortable.” His fingers curl into a fist. “Worse part is, I never got to tell her. I should have never left the way I did.”
Zane leans against the wall, arms crossed. “I think it’s pretty clear all three of us like her.”
Damon doesn’t respond right away, but his silence speaks louder than words.
I shift on my feet, suddenly restless. “I told her,” I admit.
That gets their attention. Damon straightens, and Zane’s brows snap together.
“You what?” Zane barks.
“I told her.” I meet their glares head-on. “Just before it happened.”
“Jesus, Asher,” Damon mutters.
“I didn’t plan it,” I say roughly. “It just… happened.”
Zane lets out a humorless chuckle. “And how’d she take that?”
I hesitate, thinking back to the kitchen, the way she looked at me like she was afraid to hope. The way I left before I could hear what she wanted to say back.
“She didn’t get the chance to answer,” I finally say. “Then Emma walked in, and the next thing I knew, we were out in the woods, looking for Ella.”
Damon scrubs a hand down his face. “Fuck.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
Damon levels me with a look, arms crossed over his chest. “I thought you were leaving?”
The Dubai contract in my pocket feels like it’s burning a hole straight through me. A reminder of a choice that doesn’t feel like a choice anymore.
I pull it out, stare at the fine print for a second. Six months overseas, high pay, clean break. It should be easy. It should feel like the right move.
But it doesn’t.
I tear the contract in half.
Zane watches the pieces of paper flutter to the ground, eyebrows raising slightly. Damon exhales through his nose, something unreadable flickering in his gaze.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell them. My voice is rough but certain. “Not until we get our family back.”
For a long moment, none of us speak.
I glance at the maps, at the photos, at the evidence of Jason’s obsession. “We bring them home,” I say. “Then we figure out the rest.”
Zane and Damon nod. And just like that, we’re back on the same page.
Damon takes out his phone, scrolling through his contacts with a look that means trouble for anyone on the other end. “I’m calling in some favors,” he says.
“What favors?” I ask, watching him carefully.
“The kind that get shit done.” He presses the call button, bringing the phone to his ear. “One of the reasons I bought this cabin was that the Army Ranger training facility is nearby and run by a friend. He’s always looking for training exercises for the men.”
Zane lets out a low whistle. “So we’re making this an official op?”
“If it gets Mia and the girls back, I don’t care what we call it,” Damon says, stepping out onto the porch as the call connects.
I exchange a glance with Zane. If Damon’s reaching out to his old contacts, this is about to get serious. And that’s exactly what we need.
Once Damon’s done with his call, we sit around the cabin’s dining table, weapons spread out between us, cleaning supplies in reach. The rhythmic motions of dismantling, scrubbing, reassembling—it's a ritual, something to keep our hands busy while we wait.
“I was thinking about what you said earlier,” Damon says to me.
“What?” I say defensively.
He raises a brow. “Mia got taken because I got too jealous and left. And there’s no other way to put it. We work better together, that can’t be clearer. But what I’m trying to say is…” He pauses. “As unconventional as Mia's ideas are, it’s not a bad way to go.”
I pause, glancing up. “What do you mean?”
Zane sets down his freshly cleaned Glock, rubbing his jaw. “Pretty sure you already know what he means.”
Damon exhales, leaning back in his chair. “I’m surprised at how much I want to be a part of those girls’ lives.” His voice is rougher than usual, like admitting it costs him something.
“Yeah,” Zane says, his voice quieter than before. “I know the feeling.”
I swallow hard. I hadn't let myself think too hard about it, but it’s true. I was planning to leave, and now I can’t imagine walking away from them. Any of them.
“I second that,” I say. “For the girls, but Mia, too.”
The air shifts between us, something unspoken settling into place. No judgment. No competition. Just three men willing to do whatever it takes to bring their family home. We all want the same thing.
Damon’s phone buzzes, slicing through the quiet. He checks the screen. “It’s my buddy. Let’s see what he has to say.”
All thoughts of the future fade. Right now, all that matters is getting Mia and the girls back.