The words slammed into Marcus like a high-caliber round. His knees buckled, his balance nearly failing him. The entire world he had built—his loyalty to his father, his obsession with violence, his cruel intimidation of everyone around him—collapsed into a heap of ashes.
He… he gave them the coordinates? Marcus gasped, his chest heaving as if he were suffocating. He killed Julian?
He eliminated a loose end, Ramos sneered. Just like I’m going to eliminate you if you don’t grow up. Your old man knew Julian was soft, Marcus. And deep down, he knows you’re soft too. That’s why you’re here. You were never meant to run the empire. You were meant to take the fall if the feds ever came knocking.
Die! Marcus screamed.
His finger squeezed the trigger.
In a fraction of a second, Dana moved.
Her left hand shot out like striking lightning, slipping between the hammer and the slide of the pistol just as it dropped, muffling the metallic snap and catching the mechanism before the firing pin could strike the primer. Simultaneously, her right hand hooked Marcus’s wrist, twisting it upward and away.
The gun remained unspent.
Dana wrenched the weapon cleanly from Marcus’s grip in a single, effortless motion, racking the slide to eject the chambered round onto the floor. She dropped the magazine into her palm and tucked both pieces into her tactical belt.
Let me go! Marcus wailed, collapsing forward, his hands clawing at his head as he hit the floor beside the unconscious goons. Why did you stop me?! He killed my brother! He helped my father murder Julian! He deserves to die!
Julian died so you wouldn’t become this, Dana said fiercely, grabbing Marcus by the collar of his jacket and hauling him upright until his tear-streaked face was inches from hers. Look at me, Marcus! Look at me!
Marcus looked, his eyes wide and bloodshot, shaking uncontrollably.
Julian took three bullets pulling men out of a fire, Dana said, her voice shaking with restrained emotion. His final breath wasn’t spent on revenge. It wasn’t spent on hate. He looked at me, covered in his own blood, and begged me to save you from turning into Richard Vance. If you pull that trigger, if you execute a man on his knees, Richard wins. The monster who murdered your brother gets exactly what he wanted: another butcher to take his place. Is that who you are? Is that what you want to be?
Marcus choked on a sob, his head slumping forward against Dana’s shoulder. No, he whispered, his spirit completely broken. No… God, Julian… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
Dana held him by the shoulders for a single, firm beat, grounding him, before pushing him back to his feet.
Save your apologies for the courtroom, Dana said, her tone instantly snapping back into tactical operational mode. Right now, we move.
Where? Marcus asked, wiping his face with a trembling forearm. To the police?
Before Dana could answer, the piercing scream of emergency sirens shattered the sound of the rain outside.
Flashing red and blue lights cut through the tall gymnasium windows, painting the walls in erratic, blood-colored pulses. Three, then four, then five vehicles skidded to a halt in the courtyard outside the athletic center. The harsh slam of car doors echoed through the storm, followed by the metallic click of shotguns being racked.
Sheriff’s department! a voice boomed over a patrol car megaphone, reverberating through the glass doors. This is Sheriff Miller! We have reports of an active shooter and a faculty assault! Drop all weapons and come out with your hands above your head!
On the floor, Ramos began to laugh—a loud, barking laugh that turned into a bloody cough.
You’re too late, Callaway, Ramos gloated, pointing a trembling finger toward his lapel. Underneath his collar, a small green LED light was blinking rapidly. Silent distress beacon. Wired directly to Sheriff Miller’s personal radio. Miller has been on your old man’s payroll for twenty years, Marcus! You think they’re here to rescue you? They’re here to clean the scene. An armed gym teacher goes rogue, takes the Vance boy hostage, and the sheriff’s department is forced to neutralize the threat. Tragic. A real community tragedy.
Marcus turned deathly pale. Miller… Dad has dinner with Miller every Sunday.
Dana didn’t waste a second. She reached down, grabbed Ramos by his leather jacket, and hoisted him off the floor with one arm. She dragged him toward the heavy steel equipment cage at the far end of the court, threw him inside, slammed the door shut, and slid the massive steel padlock into place.
Hey! Ramos roared, grabbing the chain-link mesh. Miller will rip this place apart! You won’t make it to the highway!
