“Wells, you handle the guards. Karter, get the kids out of harm’s way. Dash and I are taking Hudson. Onyx, grab the wife. She’s filth dressed in pearls, don’t go soft.”
Everyone nods.
I point to a small room near the front of the house. “Meet here. The office. Easy in. Clean out.”
“Uh, how are we handling the dogs?” Karter asks.
“Handled,” Wells mutters, already texting. “Done.”
I glance his way. “Who?”
“Declan.”
Karter chuckles. “Sniper-on-demand. Must be nice.”
It is. That’s what sets us apart.
The Devils don’t send warnings. We send shadows.
I scan their faces. “Everyone knows their part?” They nod. “Masks on.”
“Fuck yeah,” Dash grins as we slip them on. One by one.
Except Karter.
He smirks. “You know I don’t wear masks.” I shoot him a look. “Except for her.”
He doesn’t respond, but the flicker in his eyes says it all.
“Let’s finish this fast,” I mutter. “I want to get back to our girl. In one piece.”
“Hell yeah,” we say in unison.
A soft buzz in my earpiece.
“Dogs are out,” Dash confirms. “Bodyguards are next.”
We move.
Silent. Ruthless. Fluid like fucking smoke.
Inside, the house erupts, glass shatters, a scream echoes, then, “You think you can storm my house and put a bullet in Hanson?” one of the guards roars.
Wells laughs.Laughs.The kind of sound that promises violence. “Yeah, actually. I do. Bet you die before your next breath.”
Bang.
Body drops.
“Told you.”
He vanishes, hunting the next one.
“I’ll get the kids,” Karter says, heading upstairs.
Onyx’s silhouette rounds the opposite corner.
Moments pass.
