Page 86 of Emmy's Ride

Just as I started to drift, I whispered, “Promise me you’ll come back.”

Austin pressed his lips to the top of my head. “I promise.”

Austin

The jungle was a humid wall of black and green, buzzing with the drone of insects. I crouched low, my boots silent against the damp earth as I signaled to my men. We had moved through the jungle undetected so far, our guides earning every peso they’d been paid. But now, we were close. The compound lay just beyond the ridge, a fortress of concrete and steel swallowed by the jungle foliage.

My grip tightened on my rifle. Luke was in there. We’d learned Raven was there too.

I exchanged a glance with Riot, who was breathing hard beside me. Still limping from where I’d shot him. I should feel guilty about that, but I fucking didn’t. He deserved that and more. I just hadn’t decided what the more was going to mean. His reason, his sister, was the only thing stopping my hand from delivering the final blow. He had been damn near sick when Jax confirmed the intel—his little sister was inside. The Ghost had gotten to her, dragging her into this twisted game of vengeance and power. How could I blame a man for trying to protect his sister?

I turned to my crew, whispering low, “We move in quiet. Riot, you and Tank take the west side. Jax, you and the tech team stay back and monitor comms. I want eyes on that goddamn security feed the second we get inside. We go in, we get them, we get the hell out. No unnecessary noise.”

I met each of their gazes in turn. “Anyone sees The Ghost—don’t take the shot unless you’re sure we can’t bring him out alive. Cole wants him breathing, and we need this to work.”

My men nodded. They knew the stakes.

I took a long breath, pushing away everything except the mission. I turned to Emmy, wishing she was back at the safehouse. Our eyes met and she understood without a word. I got her need to come with us, but I couldn’t let myself be distracted by worrying about her. She needed me to come back and to rescue her brother. I wanted to go to her and take her in my arms and kiss her to reassure her everything was going to be okay, but I didn’t. I didn’t need to. She gave me a gentle smile, and I touched her cheek. “Stay with Jax.”

“I promise,” she vowed and closed her eyes against my palm.

This had to be clean.

With one last nod, I signaled, and we moved.

The first guard went down without a sound. Then the second.

I crept forward, my blade slick with blood, the scent of sweat and smoke heavy in the air. The compound was impressively armed, but we had the element of surprise—for now.

Jax’s voice crackled through my earpiece. “You’re close. Holding cells are in the east wing. But you need to move—The host’s men are shifting patrols.”

I motioned the men forward, my pulse a steady rhythm in my ears. We rounded a corner, moving deeper into the belly of the beast.

Then, a muffled groan.

I froze. Listened. Another sound, faint but unmistakable.

Luke.

He was behind a heavy metal door at the end of the hall. Riot was already there, working fast to pick the lock.

“Hurry the hell up,” I growled.

The lock clicked, and Riot shoved the door open.

The smell of blood hit me first. Then the sight.

Luke was slumped against the wall, just this side of unconscious. His face was swollen, his wrists shackled to the wall with thick iron cuffs. Blood streaked his bare chest, deep cuts and bruises painting a brutal picture of what he’d endured.

“Jesus Christ,” Riot whispered.

I dropped to one knee, gripping Luke’s face. “Brother. Can you hear me?”

Luke’s eyes fluttered open, bloodshot and dazed. When he saw me, something like recognition surfaced through the pain. His lips parted, a rasp of a breath escaping.

“Took you long enough,” he croaked.

“Yeah, well. Traffic was a bitch.”

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