Victor and his seven sons didn’t deserve mercy. They deserve to feel every second of what was coming. I looked at my reflection in the small mirror mounted inside the safe door. My eyes looked different. The blue was gone, replaced by a dark, dilated pupil. The husband was asleep. The Delta operator was awake. I needed to know where they were.
I needed to track the pack. And I knew exactly who the weak link was. Mason, the youngest, the one who was shaking in the hospital, the one who held the coffee cup like it was a grenade. He was the one who held her legs. He was the one who watched. And tonight, he was going to be the first one to speak.
I closed the safe, grabbed a black hoodie, and walked out into the night. The silence of the house didn’t bother me anymore because I knew very soon the silence would be broken by the sound of Mason screaming. The night air was biting, but I walked with the windows of my truck down. I needed the cold. I needed to keep my temperature low, my pulse steady.
