Page 76 of Loco

One second, I was glancing down at my phone to check the security alerts coming through, and the next, I was staring at footage that made my blood run ice cold.

The camera on the side of the house caught it first. A dark, unmarked van came tearing into the frame, headlights off, engine growling. And then, without even hesitating, itslammedstraight into the side of the house.

Right through the damn wall.

The van hit so hard that its entire frame shook. Plaster dust blasted out from the impact as the wall broke into pieces, and the metal groaned as it came to a stop half in and half out of my home where Sayla and the kids were.

I barely had time to process the impact before five figures emerged—masked, fast, and armed—and disappeared through the gaping hole they’d just created.

“Fuck—” I hissed, switching to the internal feeds, fingers trembling as I tapped through the app.

There they were, five of them moving through the house like they’d done it a hundred times before in tight formation, each man clearing a room with precise, practiced movements. There was no panic, no hesitation. This wasn’t a smash-and-grab, it wasn’t some junkie looking for cash or pills. It was organized and targeted.

They weren’t there to steal a damn thing. They were hunting Sayla and the kids.

I grabbed my radio and phone simultaneously, the pressure of both in my hands grounding me for a split second as cold sweat slid down the back of my neck. My heart hammered so hard I could barely hear myself speak over the roar in my head.

“DB,” I clipped, my voice sharp, already running on adrenaline. “Emergency at my place. Five armed suspects just breached the house. They drove a van straight into the side wall. Sayla and the kids are inside.”

There was a heartbeat of silence, and then DB came back, calm but all business. “Copy that. I’m rolling. Units are on the way. ETA ten.”

I was already throwing the SUV into gear, gravel spitting out behind me as I peeled onto the road. “I’m twenty-eight out,” I said through gritted teeth. “But I’ll be faster.”

I killed the call and floored it, the engine screaming beneath me as I pushed the speedometer well past what was legal—hell, beyond what was smart—but I didn’t care.

All I could think about was the last message from Sayla. She’d tried to sound steady even though I knew her hands had to be shaking. She had no idea what had just happened or what was coming through that wall.

God,please let them be okay.

Please let her be smart enough to stay hidden, keep the kids quiet, and hold the line long enough. Because if anything happened to them—if I got there too late—there wouldn’t be a place on this earth those bastards could hide where I wouldn’t find them.

I’d been standing in Randolph Topper’s kitchen when the alerts started coming through. We were mid-search—me, Keir, Kapono, and Imogen—turning the place over while paramedics wheeled Topper out the front door, barely clinging to consciousness. He’d looked like death: pale, sweaty, and his breathing shallow. If someonehad poisoned him, it wouldn’t surprise me. He’d made enough enemies to fill a stadium.

Honestly, none of us cared much if he made it or not. What mattered was that the suspected poisoning gave us legal grounds to search his house. And Judd wasn’t wasting a second of it—he and Kai were already working through his home office and den while Imogen photographed everything.

We hadn’t found the smoking gun yet, but we were damn close.

Then my phone had buzzed. I’d pulled it out of my pocket, still half-focused on the cabinet I’d been searching in Topper’s kitchen. The moment I opened the message, the world disappeared from under me.

I didn’t say a word, I didn’t need to. The air shifted around me, electricity crackling as my brain went from detective tosomething more primal. I turned and walked straight out the front door.

Keir didn’t ask a single question, and neither did Kapono. They caught the look on my face—something between fury and fear—and immediately followed. Footsteps thundered behind me as we moved, three men with decades of training and a shared understanding thatwhatever it was, it was bad.

We peeled out of Topper’s driveway like the house was on fire, gravel spitting in every direction as our tires screeched across the ground. I didn’t even look back, I didn’t have to, Iknewthey were behind me. And thank God, because I wasn’t thinking straight.

My chest was tight as I opened the camera feed on my phone, fumbling to switch to the outside cameras as I took the first hard turn. What I saw made my stomach twist into knots.

A dark, unmarked van was half inside, metal groaning, wood splintered everywhere—a gaping wound in the structure where myfamilywas supposed to be safe.

I swallowed hard, trying to control my panic as my fingers flew over the screen, switching to the internal feeds. I watched as they entered room after room with chilling precision. They were clearing the house like professionals—tactical and methodical, too good to be amateurs and too prepared to improvise.

I reached across the seat for my Kevlar vest and yanked it over my head, the truck swaying hard as I adjusted it while still barreling down the road. My hands were slick with sweat, and my jaw was locked so tight that it felt like my molars would crack under the pressure.

“Easy,” I muttered, my voice low and ragged. “Stay alive, you’re no good to them dead.”

In the rearview mirror, I caught the familiar shape of Keir’s truck close behind. Kapono’s SUV was just a few car lengths back, with headlights off, but moving fast. Silent backup, riding the same current of fury and urgency that had taken hold of me. They didn’t ask for intel, they didn’t need a briefing, theyjust knew.

And they were coming with me into hell without hesitation.

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