Page 96 of Searching for Valor

“Ry, you good?” Shane’s voice said in his ear, steady and grounding.

“Yeah,” he lied. He blinked hard, trying to shake the images crowding his mind. His pulse thundered in his ears, drowningout the sounds of his teammates fanning out around him. He watched Zak and Donovan disappear behind the reception desk, and the floor beneath him seemed to shift, the broken floor tiles and bits of glass turning to sand, the walls melting into jagged cliffs under the desert moon.

His steps faltered. This old resort wasn’t the compound—but his mind didn’t care.

The insurgent darted behind crates, the RPG in his hands.

The shot was there—clean, clear.

His finger on the trigger.

Hesitation.

The man turned, smiled, and lifted the launcher.

“RPG!” Jax’s voice. “Get down!”

”Clear,” Zak’s voice said through the comms after he and Donovan cleared the area behind the reception desk.

“Clear,” Connelly said as he and Pierce emerged from what used to be the lobby bathrooms.

Pierce nodded and signed,“Nothing here.”

“Keep searching,” Zak said. “Head on a swivel.”

Rylan yanked himself to the present, but the past hovered just beneath the surface, waiting to drag him under. His boots scuffed against the cracked floor as he moved deeper into the lobby, headed for the grand staircase and wall of broken windows, scanning for threats. The air was damp and cold, his breath fogging faintly in the dim light from a single flashlight someone had left on a dust-covered table.

Ahead, voices echoed faintly from the right of the staircase, and Shane turned to him, motioning toward the sound with one sharp cut of his hand. He nodded and they moved forward together, staking up against the wall, the plaster crumbling beneath his shoulder. He crept silently toward the voices and peered around a corner just as a gunshot cracked.

Izzy!

He swung into the entry, rifle up. She stood frozen near the center of a room that looked to have once been the lobby bar, her hands raised. The faint glow of a flashlight on the floor illuminated her face, pale but fierce. Behind her, Mateo struggled against a cracked pillar, his hands bound, his face bloodied. Two thugs stood nearby, their grips loose on their guns. They both looked confused and a little scared. Two bodies lay in pools of blood—one near the door and one on the floor near Mateo’s feet.

The first body had a badge clipped to his belt. And he was still alive, struggling to reach for his gun with a bloody hand. Shane stepped up and kicked the gun out of his reach. They didn’t know who to trust yet and couldn’t risk having someone armed at their backs.

They moved silently, slipping closer.

The second body had jet black hair, his sharp features now slackened in death.

Recognition flashed through Rylan. The man from The Broken Compass. The one who paid for his drinks the night after Aiden Ellison died.

“My ex is trying to ruin me. The bitch.”

Shit.Thatwas Julian Graves. He knew he’d recognized Julian’s photo from somewhere, but he hadn’t put the pieces together until just now. Julian had been talking about Monica that night. And when he rushed out after getting a call… he was probably going to kidnap Grace and Noah.

Shit.

Rylan couldn’t have known who the man was or what he was leaving the bar to do, but guilt ate him all the same.

But wait. If Graves was dead…

Rylan focused on the man holding Izzy at gunpoint.

No, not a man.

Callahan. Her stance was casual, her smirk confident. Her badge glinted faintly on her belt when she straightened her arm, raising the gun. Her arm had a raw, red bite on it.

Callahan’s lips were moving, but the roar in Rylan’s ears drowned the words.

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