Page 30 of Breeding Justice

The wiry man struggled, his hands clawing at Bash’s grip, but it was useless. Bash was relentless, his fury uncontained. He slammed the man’s head against the wall again, harder this time, and the guard went limp, crumpling to the floor like a discarded puppet.

Bash turned to me, his chest heaving, his eyes softening as they met mine. “Justice.”

I couldn’t speak, the lump in my throat making it impossible. He crossed the room in an instant, dropping to his knees in front of me. His hands trembled as he reached for the ropes, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the urgency.

“I’m getting you out of here,” he said, his voice steady and sure.

The ropes gave way under his hands, and I slumped forward, my wrists throbbing as the circulation returned. Bash caught me, his arms strong and steady around me.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice cracking.

I nodded, though my body screamed otherwise. “You came,” I whispered, the words barely audible.

“I will always come for you. Always. No matter what.”

“Bash…”

“How’s the pain?”

“Bad.”

“You’ll live,” he said, his jaw tightening as he glanced toward the unconscious guard. “Let’s go. This isn’t over yet. We have to get Skylar.”

He helped me to my feet, his arm wrapped securely around my waist as we moved toward the shattered door. My legs wobbled, the pain in my shoulder flaring with every step, but I leaned on Bash, his presence a solid anchor in the storm.

As we stepped into the hallway, my thoughts turned to Skylar, SJ, and the others. This was far from over, but with Bash by my side, I felt a glimmer of hope—a faint but steady light in the suffocating darkness.

Bash Rivera was fucking furious.

He was going to kill all of these people. And I was going to help.

Chapter Thirteen: Zane

The safe house in New York was dimly lit, shadows creeping into every corner. The air was heavy with tension, the kind that wrapped around you and refused to let go. The walls were bare except for a few peeling patches of paint, and the single lamp in the corner cast long, wavering shadows across the room.

Hassan stood near SJ, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched him with a mix of tenderness and anxiety. Dante lounged against the kitchen counter, his perpetual half-smirk in place. I stood in the center of the room, the focus of their attention, and laid out the plan.

We had managed to get out of that meeting…by some miracle. I had no idea how. Vito had just walked out—and now the clock was running out for us to get Skylar, Justice and Bash back.

I ignored the pain throbbing on my stomach. It was time to get down to business. No more waiting around.

“Flying is out of the question,” I said. “Airports have too many eyes, and Vito’s reach is too long. We can’t risk it.”

Hassan’s intense gaze shifted from SJ, who was playing with a toy car, to me. “So we’re just going to drive? All the way to Miami? With a two-year-old? That’s insane.”

“It’s the only way to stay under the radar,” I said. “We have more control on the ground. We can change routes, make stops. If something goes wrong, we’re not trapped at thirty thousand feet.”

Hassan opened his mouth to argue, but Dante cut him off. “Zane’s right. Driving gives us options. My network has already arranged for a vehicle and supplies. It’ll be easier than you think.”

I glanced at Dante, grateful for his support. He was a wildcard, but in moments like this, his pragmatism was invaluable.

Hassan ran a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “Easier than I think? Do you have any idea what it’s like to travel with a toddler? He’s not even mine and I’m losing my mind.”

“Look,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “I know it’s not ideal. But SJ is the linchpin here. Without him, we’re just running blind.”

Hassan’s eyes flashed with something I couldn’t quite read. Anger? Frustration? He uncrossed his arms and took a step toward me. “He’s a child, Zane. This isn’t just logistics. It’s his life.”

Dante’s voice took on a harder edge. “We’re all in this together, Hassan. You think I like this plan? It’s not about liking it—it’s about survival. I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Vito, but you can’t stay here. Not if you want to get his parents back.”

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