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Lowell's words, laced with a venomous charm, sliced through the air. "I believe we've amended our arrangement, Mr. Moreno. The mother and the daughter. They're both coming with us.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
The five minutes that Shane Lowell was inside the motel room felt like an eternity. Tank and the team from Black Tower spent the time closing in on the motel, hiking through the tree line and crossing the small drainage ditch that separated the rundown lot from the city park. Every precious second with them inside was torture, and Marshall had to physically restrain Tank from approaching.
When the door to the motel room finally opened, the blood drained from Tank’s face. Kaylie and Lia were walking behind Lowell, guns pointed at them by Citadel forces.
He watched with a quiet desperation from his hidden position in the trees as Lowell led Kaylie and a crying Lia toward his sleek black SUV. Every muscle in Tank’s body clenched at the sight of the blood on Kaylie’s cheek and her obviously swelling face. Had Moreno done that? Or one of Lowell’s dogs? The Citadel CEO didn’t seem the type to get his hands dirty, but he wouldn’t hesitate to have someone hurt at his command.
The distance between him and the girls grew, his options narrowing with every step they took across the faded asphalt.
Tank’s hand moved to his sidearm, fingers gripping the cold metal. He hesitated, wrestling with the potential consequences. The internal struggle intensified as Lowell reached for the car door, ready to whisk away the very people Tank had sworn to protect. The thought of letting them vanish into the night fueled a quiet rage within him.
In a surge of determination, Tank's fingers tightened around the grip of his sidearm. He glanced around, assessing the risks. “I’m moving in.”
“Tank, no–” Marshall called behind him, but as Tank charged from the safety of the trees, his team followed.
“Not a good plan, Tank!” yelled Jackson from several feet to his right.
Despite their protests, the team moved with practiced precision, fanning out to cover more ground and divide the opponent’s attention. Tank, Marshall, Jackson, Ryder, Connor, and Landon descended toward the entourage, guns raised and prepared for a fight.
With one shot, Tank disabled the guard holding Lia, aiming high so he could be confident the girl wouldn’t be in the crossfire. At the same time, Marshall took out the one holding Kaylie, who fell on top of her with a grunt of pain. The air filled with the sharp cracks of gunfire, the motel parking lot transforming into a chaotic battleground under the harsh midday sun.
With the guard gone, Lia was pulled into Lowell’s grasp. Kaylie let out a cry of dismay, trying to push the heavy guard off her. Tank trained his sights back on Lowell, even as he hurried across the lot to intercept them.
Ryder and Connor provided cover fire, forcing the remaining Citadel operatives to seek refuge behind their vehicles and the thick brick pillars that supported the upper level of the motel walkway. Tank was exposed, but the Citadel team was busy taking fire from several directions.
With Lia in his grasp, Lowell darted toward the driver's side of one vehicle and shoved the girl inside. Tank’s gut clenched in terror. The engine roared to life, drowning out the sounds of the ongoing skirmish. The SUV surged forward, its tires screeching against the asphalt, jumping the curb and turning toward the exit, somehow nearly running over Jackson as it careened past him. Where had he come from?
Tank sprinted toward it, but he wasn’t close enough. Burning rubber and gunpowder lingered in the air as the team closed in on Lowell's entourage.
Lowell’s SUV sped away as Tank tried to shoot out the tires with no success, leaving him with a bitter taste of frustration. He turned to see Kaylie, eyes ablaze, standing beside him.
Seeing that their boss had fled the scene, the Citadel operatives followed suit, hopping in the cars and leaving their fallen comrades behind. Jackson cried out as one of their bullets hit him as they drove away. In moments, his brother was at his side.
"We have to get her back," Kaylie cried, her voice desperate and her hands tugging on Anthony’s arm.
Tank's shoulders slumped, a mix of frustration and guilt settling over him. The helplessness of the situation gnawed at his resolve, leaving him grappling with the consequences of his decisions. He nodded. “We’ll get her, Kaylie. I promise.”
He signaled to the team, and they quickly regrouped. Lowell had escaped, but Tank knew this was far from the end.
Tank entered the motel room with purpose, knowing Paul Moreno waited inside. His gaze locked onto the man responsible for the torment Lia now faced. Moreno looked up with a sneer. But it was obvious that his bravado was nothing more than a mask disguising his fear of Tank and the rest of the Black Tower operatives crowding the small room and his tiny group of mobsters.
“Sounds like you all had a good time out there,” Moreno said with a high-pitched laugh. “Did my stupid ex get what she deserved?”
Clenching his fist at Moreno’s callous words, Tank stepped aside so Kaylie, standing near the entrance, could step forward. Seething anger radiated from her as she stalked forward, her steps deliberate and filled with a quiet rage. Her eyes locked onto Moreno, a fire burning within them.
When Moreno's men made a move to intervene, a quick movement from Connor halted them in their steps. The mobsters were outgunned and outmanned, and wisely chose not to engage.
Moreno's laughter faltered as Kaylie approached, the atmosphere in the room shifting. Tank moved quickly, placing himself between Kaylie and Moreno. He knew the power of Kaylie's anger, the raw emotion that threatened to consume her.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Decide you missed me?”
Kaylie's eyes narrowed into fiery slits. She took a step toward Moreno. "You set us up, you son of a—"
Before she could finish her sentence, Tank swiftly intervened, his strong arm acting as a barrier between Kaylie and Moreno. "Not now, Kaylie," he urged, his tone a mixture of caution and command.
