Page 60 of Thunder

This is bigger than any of us imagined, and I know that if we don't act soon, it could spiral out of control.

As if things aren’t already out of control. Murders in a bar? The head of security at my work poisoning an old woman?

This is all fucking bonkers.

"Focus. Focus like you’ve never focused before, Lia," I tell myself, taking a deep breath and steadying my resolve. I’ve been through tough tests before, and some of them involved math so hellacious I felt I had to go to a church—any church—afterward just to cleanse my soul. Murder and mayhem are nothing compared to math that uses signs and symbols in multiple languages, and where a fuck-up can cost millions of dollars in construction overages. "You can do this."

As I sit there, gripping the wheel, I realize that this is it.

This is a war.

There’s no turning back, no hesitation, only all-out, fight-for-your-life combat.

With a final sigh, I turn the key in the ignition. The engine roars to life, drowning out the cacophony of thoughts swirling in my head. Whatever secrets those files hold, I'm ready to face them—to use them. A burning resolve has replaced my fear, my anxiety overtaken by adrenaline-fueled courage. Love and loyalty propel me forward, driving me to protect the ones I care about most.

"Marcus, I won't let you down," I promise, gripping the wheel tightly, knuckles turning white. "I love you, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep us safe."

As I merge onto the highway, the night envelops me like a protective cloak, shielding me from prying eyes. The road stretches out before me, a dark ribbon leading me to the heart of the storm.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Thunder

The sun is just peeking over the horizon, casting long shadows across Reid's Repairs. I lean against my motorcycle, my entire body radiating tension like a coiled spring, a coiled spring that’s been beaten and stabbed to hell and back, courtesy of that fucking lunatic in the bar, when my phone buzzes in my pocket.

"Unknown number" flashes on the screen. Could be a scam, because whoever these jokers are that keep texting me, they don’t know that I already have an extended warranty on both my motorcycle and my home. I think about ignoring it, but something in my gut tells me to open it.

The message reads: "We want the same thing. We can help each other. If you want the truth about the Eco Resort, meet me at the old Solverson Warehouse. Come alone."

"Shit," I mutter under my breath. Rook and Bullet glance up from their bikes, sensing the sudden shift in my mood.

I stalk over to them, thrusting the phone in their faces.

"Check this out," I say tersely.

“If this is some stupid meme, Thunder, I swear I’ll punch you,” Rook says.

“It’s not. It’s nothing to do with a meme. And besides, do you have a problem with the funny shit I show you?”

“It’s not funny,” Rook says.

“You only think that because you gruesomely murdered your sense of humor at the age of five,” I retort.

“Watch it or I’ll gruesomely murder your face.”

“Look, just read the fucking text, okay?”

I tap my phone screen, accidentally open Candy Crush, swipe a few more times to get the text back, and then hold it out, watching their eyes flick back and forth as they read the text.

"Could be a trap," Rook drawls, his voice gravelly and dark.

"Or it could be someone who wants to help," Bullet counters, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Help? Or murder?" Rook smirks, and I can feel my blood beginning to boil. "I've thought about doing that myself, you know. Lure Thunder out with some mystery text. Take him to some deserted location… In fact, I’ve even thought about using the Solverson Warehouse. Scouted it, noticed they’ve got some excellent floor drains there, which is crucial if you’re going to chain someone to the ceiling and slowly bleed them out, and then—"

"Enough, Rook," I snap, cutting him off before he can finish describing how he'd torture and murder me. “This isn’t about torture. I want your honest opinion on this thing.”

“I was getting to it. You know, there’s an art to this, Thunder. You’d do well to learn a few skills.”

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