Landon storms in from the next room, phone pressed to his ear, face pale under his fake tan. Two men follow him, both tense, both armed. The cabin door bangs shut behind them hard enough to rattle dust from the rafters.
Brianna turns. “What happened?”
“Shut up.”
Her face twists. “Don’t talk to me like that.”
Landon ignores her. “Say that again,” he snaps into the phone.
Whatever he hears makes the color drain completely.
My heart starts beating faster.
Not fear this time.
Hope.
Landon lowers the phone.
For one second, nobody speaks.
Then he looks at one of the men. “Salazar’s down.”
Brianna goes still. “What do you mean, down?”
“Arrested.” Landon’s voice cracks on the word. “Him, his brother, two cousins, half the damn office. Raids hit three clubs and the warehouse outside Black Pines.”
The Saints.
It has to be.
Jayce.
The thought hits so hard I nearly fold over the zip ties.
Brianna’s composure breaks at the edges. “That’s not possible.”
“Does it look like I’m making jokes?” Landon snarls. “We move. Now.”
One of the men gestures toward me. “What about her?”
The room shifts.
Brianna looks at me.
There is no sister in her face.
No girl I packed lunches for. No kid I taught to braid hair. No crying sixteen-year-old in my sweatshirt.
Just someone who hates me enough to let me die for finally seeing her clearly.
“She’s a problem,” Brianna says.
My blood goes cold.
Landon’s eyes flick over me. “She’s leverage.”
“No,” Brianna snaps. “She spread her legs for a biker, Landon. You take her with us, the Saints never stop.”
