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As the team nodded, their faces set in grim determination, I turned to the wall, studying the map riddled with pins and strings—a web of connections and dead ends.
Whoever you are you've made your last fucking move.
It was only a matter of time before we closed in, and when we did, there'd be no mercy. Not for the demon who dared to lay a finger on what was mine. Not in my city, not on my watch.
Ipaced back and forth like a caged predator, the dim light casting long shadows across the concrete floor of our makeshift war room. My team huddled over scattered papers, each new clue a potential gateway to hell—or salvation. I stopped behind Parker, who was squinting at a series of grainy photos, the neon glow from the nearby nightclub captured in freeze-frame.
"Tell me you've got something," I growled, my patience fraying like the edges of my sanity.
Parker looked up, the bags under his eyes testament to hours of relentless scrutiny. "It's not good, Nash. Look at this." He tapped a photo where Aria laughed, blissfully unaware of the crosshairs she was in. But it wasn't her the camera loved—it was Celeste, half-hidden in shadow, but there, in every goddamn shot.
"Son of a bitch," I hissed, my hands curling into fists. "The focus... It's all on Celeste."
"Exactly," Parker confirmed, his voice leaden with dread. "Aria...she was collateral damage. They probably went for her by mistake when Celeste stepped out to smoke."
A cold knot formed in my stomach as the pieces clicked into place, a grotesque picture forming. A target painted on Celeste's back, a killer's obsession laid bare in pixels and light. A fury unlike anything I'd felt before surged through my veins, an inferno that threatened to incinerate my composure.
"Fuck," I spat out, spinning away from the incriminating images. The air was thick with tension, the silence punctuated by the soft clack of keyboards and the distant wail of sirens.
"Looks like our friend made a mistake," I said, my tone bitter as bile. "Thought they could take Celeste out of the picture and no one would notice. But you fucked up, didn't you? Took Aria instead."
"Which means..." Parker trailed off, unwilling to voice the conclusion we'd both reached.
"Which means Celeste is still dancing with the reaper," I finished for him. "And that sick fuck might come back to finish what they started."
"Jesus, Nash," Parker murmured, echoing the sentiment of the entire room. "What are we gonna do?"
I turned to face my crew, their faces etched with concern and fatigue. They looked to me for answers, for a plan, but all I had was a storm of rage and a desperate need to protect what was mine.
"We're going to do what I should have done from the start," I declared, my voice slicing through the hopelessness. "We play dirty. We play for keeps."
"Kidnap her?" someone asked, incredulous.
"Rescue," I corrected sharply. "We're rescuing Celeste from a fate worse than death itself. Because if that son of a bitch thinks he can take her from me—from us—he's got another thing coming." My words were a vow, a promise etched in the darkness of my soul. "I'll burn this city to the ground before I let that happen."
I flicked on the monitors, the screens buzzing to life and casting an eerie glow across the dimly lit room. Surveillance was a dirty game, but fuck if it wasn't necessary. My gaze snapped to Celeste's feed—the one I'd installed in her place during the chaos, just in case. And there she was, a haunting vision of sorrow slumped on her couch, tears carving silver trails down her cheeks.
"Shit," I muttered under my breath, the sight twisting something fierce in my chest. She was alone, vulnerable—if that bastard came for her now...
"Fuck this," I growled, my decision crystallizing like ice. I couldn't wait for that fucker to make his move. It was time to play my hand—time to snatch Celeste out from under the shadow of death himself.
The plan was reckless, impulsive; it reeked of desperation. Kidnapping, for Christ’s sake. But hell, what choice did we have? The law was too slow, too blind. We operated in the gray, where the only rules that mattered were the ones we set. And I set them to protect, not to harm—unless you crossed me.
"Hey, Nash..." Parker started, no doubt about to spew some cautionary bullshit.
"Save it," I cut him off. "This is happening. Get the van ready."
"Are you sure?—"
"Am I sure?" I echoed, the edge in my voice sharp enough to slice through bone. "I've never been more fucking sure of anything. We're doing this tonight."
Parker nodded, resignation etched into his face as he turned away to prep. He knew better than to argue when my mind was made up. They all did.
With every second that ticked by, the coiled serpent of urgency tightened its grip around my spine. I had to move fast, be faster. Celeste's life dangled on a thread, and I’d be damned if I didn’t do everything in my power to weave that thread into a goddamn lifeline.
"Ready," Parker called out, his voice steady despite the storm brewing around us.
"Good." I clapped him on the shoulder. "Let's roll out."
