Page 63 of Knot Unwanted: Part Two

“Can we avoid them?” Jax asks.

“Side entrance,” Connor suggests, nodding toward a smaller door on the west side of the hangar. “Maintenance access. Less likely to be guarded.”

We change course, staying low as we cross the open ground between the tree line and the building. My heart hammers in my chest, every sense heightened.

When we reach the side door, Connor examines the lock. “Electronic,” he murmurs. “But manageable.”

He pulls out a small device from his pocket, attaching it to the keypad beside the door. The device lights up, numbers flashing across its tiny screen as it cycles through combinations.

“How long?” Jax asks.

“Thirty seconds,” Connor replies, eyes on the device. “Maybe less.”

Stone positions himself between me and the open area behind us, his body shielding mine. I should feel protected. Instead, I feel trapped, caught between my need to help and the reality of my limitations.

The device beeps softly, and the door’s lock clicks open.

“We’re in,” Connor announces, pocketing the device.

Riordan takes point, easing the door open and peering inside. “Clear,” he whispers. “Storage room. Hangar’s through the next door.”

We file inside, the door closing silently behind us. The storage room is dark and cramped, filled with maintenance equipment and aviation supplies.

Riordan presses his ear to the inner door, listening intently. After a moment, he turns to us. “At least two voices. One female—could be Heath.”

“Let me,” Jax says, moving beside him. He listens for a moment, then nods. “That’s her. I recognize her voice.”

My stomach tightens at the confirmation. The woman responsible for Hailey’s abduction is just on the other side of that door.

“Plan?” Stone asks quietly.

Riordan’s eyes scan our faces, assessing our readiness. “Standard breach. Connor takes point, Declan and I flank. You three,” he nods to Jax, Stone, and me, “maintain position at the entry until we’ve secured immediate threats.”

Jax’s jaw tightens, but he gives a curt nod.

Stone positions himself slightly in front of me, a subtle protective stance that doesn’t impede my sightline. I adjust my grip on the pistol, trying to ignore how foreign it feels in my hand.

Riordan signals Connor, who moves into position beside the door. They communicate using hand gestures, making me realize just how much they’ve probably done this sort of thing before.

Just as Connor reaches for the handle, a burst of static breaks the silence from outside.

“Aircraft’s ready,” a voice calls over what must be a radio. “ETA on wheels up is five minutes.”

“Window’s closing,” Declan murmurs, not a trace of panic in his voice despite the complication.

Riordan catches Jax’s eye. “Change of plan. We go silent. Maintain cover as long as possible.”

Jax nods, already shifting his stance to something more predatory. I’ve never seen this version of him before. But I like it.

“On my signal,” Riordan says, no longer counting down.

Connor eases the door open just enough to assess the situation, then nods once. The three Ashgraves slip through the opening like shadows, weapons drawn. Jax follows, movements fluid, Stone right behind him.

I take a steadying breath and follow, hugging the wall as I’d seen them do, making myself a smaller target.

The hangar is cavernous, but there’s scattered equipment perfect for hiding behind. At the far end, near open doors facing the tarmac, stands a small group—four security personnel in tactical gear forming a protective diamond around a woman in an elegant pantsuit.

Veyra Heath. Even from this distance, I can see the cold precision in her movements as she checks her watch.

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