Travis swallows hard and lifts his chin, forcing himself to stay upright even as the zip ties cut deeper into his wrists. Blood has already slicked the plastic where he has struggled against it.
Grant keeps the gun trained on Travis’s chest. Grant reaches into his jacket with his other hand and pulls out a knife.
Naomi screams Travis’s name.
Grant steps closer without lowering the gun. The barrel stays aimed at Travis’s heart while the knife flashes forward.
The blade drives into Travis’s side.
Travis’s body jerks violently against the restraints. A raw sound tears out of his throat as the steel sinks deep into muscle. Grant rips the knife free and drives it in again, lower this time, forcing it between Travis’s ribs. Blood spills instantly, running down Travis’s shirt and dripping onto the ground.
His knees buckle.
One of the men beside him grabs his shoulder and yanks him upright so Grant can keep stabbing.
Grant twists the blade before pulling it out, then plunges it back into Travis’s abdomen with brutal force while the gun remains fixed on his chest. Travis gasps and chokes, his body convulsing against the zip ties while blood soaks through his clothes and pools beneath his boots.
Grant pulls the blade free and goes again, higher this time. Travis chokes on his breath. His face twists. His eyes go unfocused for a second, then snap back, wild with pain.
Naomi and Elise scream, Ryan cries so hard he can barely breathe.
Grant doesn’t rush. He watches Travis’s face each time.
When Travis sags, the man holding him tightens his grip and forces him upright again.
Grant crouches slightly, bringing his face level with Travis’s. “This is the part Seth and Brooke don’t understand,” he says quietly. “You can be smart and still be powerless.”
Travis tries to lift his head. He can’t hold it. His breathing turns shallow and uneven. His mouth opens as if he has something to say, but his body stops cooperating. His shoulders drop. His weight goes heavy in the man’s grip.
Naomi makes a broken sound that doesn’t resemble words anymore.
Grant stands and wipes the blade on Travis’s jacket.
Then Grant steps toward Naomi.
Naomi backs up a half step, even though there is nowhere to go. The gun at her head forces her to stop. Her eyes are wide and wet, and she is shaking hard.
“Please,” Naomi pleads. “Please.”
Grant looks past her to the kids, as if he wants them to see everything.
He lifts the knife.
Naomi’s breath hitches. Elise fights the zip ties again, wrists twisting, plastic biting deeper. Ryan sobs and tries to step toward Naomi, but the man with the gun shoves him back with a hard hand to the shoulder.
Grant’s voice stays calm. “Now you’re going to show me what you’re willing to lose.”
He angles the knife toward Naomi’s throat, close enough that she can feel the cold metal.
“Don’t move. This is going to get messy.”
Chapter 72
Seth
Beau drives fast with both hands locked on the wheel. His knuckles are pale under the dash lights. His jaw is clenched so tight I can hear his teeth grind when he breathes. He keeps swearing under his breath.
Brooke sits in the passenger seat with my phone in her hand. She keeps refreshing the tracker screen until her thumb slips from sweat. The dot is gone. The app keeps loading and failing. Grant either killed the tracker or switched vehicles. Either way, he did it on purpose.
