Page 103 of Callum

“They took a dirt path into Bray. I won’t be able to follow without making myself known.”

“Do you think they spotted you?”

“No,” he sighs, and I hear his car drive over a rumble strip. “There’s no way they would have seen that path without knowing it was there. I only saw it because I caught their taillights.”

Merrick hesitates, and we all hear it. “What else?”

“One of the taillights was hanging at an odd angle.”

“Rosalind,” I breathe around her name, relief and anxiety warring in my chest. She’s alive. I clear my throat, speaking loud enough for Merrick to hear. “We’re two minutes out.”

“I’m pulled over at the next path.”

“We’ll go on foot,” Grant commands as we pass another car that’s going too slow. “We still have the advantage of her tracker, and we’ll use it. Merrick, send out the radio silence call. Make sure Theo’s team knows where we are, in case.”

“On it.”

The line clicks dead, filling the car with sudden silence. Within moments, all our phones vibrate with the incoming message: Silence Test. One hour.

“Silence Test?”

“So the Father doesn’t get suspicious,” Grant explains, slowing the car when Merrick’s Mercedes comes into view. “I told him we’d be doing one soon, just in case.”

“Brilliant.” Lachlan laughs, jumping out of the back seat before the Maserati comes to a complete stop. He strolls confidently toward Merrick, who is waiting in the tree line for us. Maddock and I are halfway across the strip of grass between the road and the forest’s edge when Grant’s hand closes around my bicep.

His face is grim, and I know what he’s going to say. He wants to warn me about what we could be walking into and the fact that we might not all walk out. “She lives, Grant.”

“There are always casualties in war, Callum.”

“She lives,” I repeat, jerking my arm out of his grasp. “No matter what.”

“Understood.” His voice follows me to the forest, where Merrick has started handing weapons to our brothers.

He passes me a comm that I slip into my ear and a belt with several magazines. Once it’s settled around my waist, he holds out a KRISS Vector. “I didn’t know we had these.”

“We’ve got all kinds of good shit now,” Lachlan smiles brightly, shouldering a M16. The snow reflects just enough moonlight to make out the different colored tips in the magazines across his chest. Lally looks far too happy when he turns toward Maddock, and it’s immediately obvious why.

“Is that a fucking grenade launcher?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Everybody good?” Merrick checks us over before hefting a massive bag onto his shoulder. He doesn’t have any weapons outside the Glock in his shoulder holster, but he’s loaded down with enough ammo to take out a small village.

I refresh the screen on my phone, noting that Rosalind’s dot has finally stopped about a mile ahead. Grant looks over my shoulder, a severe expression in his eyes. We take a deep breath in unison before he barks out his orders.

“Callum is with me, then Lachlan and Maddock in the second. Merrick has all the ammo, as usual, so keep him in the loop. Do not deviate without signaling.” His hand claps sharply down on my shoulder, forcing me to take another breath. “Rosalind lives. No matter what.”

“Yes, boss.”

We move in perfect unison, decades of training keeping our steps nearly silent even as the snow-covered ground gives way to dry earth beneath the tight canopy of trees. We cover the distance quickly, but it isn’t fast enough. Every moment we’re in these woods is a moment that Rosalind is alone.

They could kill her.

The GiGi’s are brutal when they want to be, and Rosalind is a problem they want to eliminate. I knew this was a bad plan. She shouldn’t have gone. She shouldn’t be out here. She—

Two fingers tap against my neck, drawing me to a halt. A hand points over my shoulder before Grant steps around me, heading toward a massive tree to our right. He pulls himself onto the lowest set of branches, moving up the limbs so quickly it’s hard to track him in the dark. After a moment, I feel a hand on my shoulder, and we’re moving forward again.

Three more steps, and we’re at the top of the ridge, looking down on a clearing below. Several cars are pointing their headlights toward a faded gold Crown Vic. The trunk is open, but I can’t see inside from this angle.

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