Brought By Destiny

Chapter 13

The Price of Redemption

Michael’s POV:

Jordan and his team were working at full speed, scouring every bit of data for a lead. I felt like a fish out of water, gasping with anxiety. Every second felt like an eternity. I swore to God that if Anthony laid another finger on her, I would kill him with my bare hands.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my palm an unknown number. I answered immediately, and to no one's surprise, it was him. The tech team signaled to me; they were already tracing the caller ID.

"Hello, Mr. Knight... It's a pleasure to finally speak to you," he said, his voice dripping with a sickening, evil laugh.

"You bastard! Where is Lilly?" I barked, my teeth gritted so hard my jaw ached. "If you dare touch her, I will end you!"

"Cool down, young man!" he giggled, seemingly enjoying my torment.
"Just give me some pocket change and you can have your girl back."

"How much?" I demanded.

"Five thousand. If you pay, I let her go. Otherwise, I will—"

I cut him off before he could finish his threat. "Keep your hands off her, or I'll rip your head from your shoulders. You’ll get whatever you want. Just tell me where to go."

"Good boy. I'll message you the address. And remember, no police," he said, then the line went dead.

By then, the team had already pinpointed the area. My phone pinged with a message a moment later, but the address was a diversion. He had called from a warehouse, but he wanted the money drop near the city lighthouse.

As we prepared to move, Jordan’s team caught a massive break.
CCTV footage showed a yellow van passing through a nearby tollgate;

Anthony’s face was clearly visible in the driver’s seat. They tracked the van's plates and narrowed down its current location. I told Jordan I was coming with them. He hesitated at first, but seeing the look in my eyes, he agreed. Jack remained at the station to coordinate.

We first went to the lighthouse for the drop. I had some cash on me, and Jordan supplemented the rest from the police emergency fund. Jordan and the tactical force hid behind a nearby shop while I stood alone in the middle of the road.

Another message came through: 'Leave the bag by the dumpster and walk away.' I complied, acting as if I were leaving the area, but I circled back and took cover behind a large tree. Minutes later, two men on a motorcycle arrived.

One of them was Anthony. I had to physically restrain myself from charging out and beating him to death. He grabbed the bag, and they sped off. We followed them at a distance until they reached an abandoned, dilapidated warehouse.

"Boys, on the count of three... follow me," Jordan whispered to his team. I watched as they loaded their weapons.

"Here, take this. Use it only if you have to," Jordan said, handing me a handgun. I took it, the cold metal feeling heavy and foreign in my grip.
"We don't know how many are inside. Stay sharp. We need them alive if possible."

"Ready guys... three, two, one... go!"

We stormed the building. The men inside were caught completely off guard, scrambling for their weapons. A chaotic firefight erupted.

There were eight of them against twenty armed officers. The sound of gunfire echoed off the high warehouse ceilings.

Within minutes, we had them suppressed. I lunged forward and grabbed Anthony by his collar. He had been shot in the shoulder and leg, blood soaking through his clothes. He glared at me, his eyes full of spite. I didn't hesitate; I landed a heavy punch across his nose, sending a fresh spray of blood onto the floor.

"Where is she?" I roared.

Jordan pressed the barrel of his gun against Anthony's forehead. "Where is Lilly? Tell us, or I'll pull the trigger right now."

"She’s... in one of the storerooms upstairs," he wheezed through the pain.

The officers dragged Anthony and his goons to the waiting police vans. Jordan, myself, and a few others raced deeper into the building. I was screaming her name like a madman.

We split up to cover more ground; I went to the upper level while Jordan checked the ground floor.

Then, I heard it, the sound of something heavy banging against wood. Thump. Thump.

I ran toward the noise. "Lilly? Are you there?" I shouted. There was no verbal answer, but a gut feeling told me I was in the right place.

I threw my weight against the door until the lock snapped and it swung open. My heart shattered at the sight. She was lying there on the cold floor, her clothes torn, her body covered in bruises.

When she saw me, she gave me a weak, trembling smile of pure relief. I didn't care about anything else.
I rushed to her side, stripped off my jacket, and wrapped it around her.
I pulled her into a tight hug, a wave of profound relief washing over me.

"You're safe now, Lilly. I've got you,"
I whispered. I called Jordan immediately. "I found her! Get an ambulance here now and I need a female nurse on site!"

I carried her out of the warehouse in my arms. Jordan had already called it in. I placed her on the stretcher in the back of the ambulance, kissing her forehead and her bruised knuckles. I promised her I’d be right behind her as the nurse began her assessment.

Jordan and I followed the ambulance to the hospital. By the time we arrived, she had slipped into unconsciousness. They rushed her straight into the operating theater for an emergency evaluation while we waited in the sterile, quiet hallway.

My phone rang, it was my mother.
I glanced at my watch: 3:00 AM. I realized I’d been gone for nearly twenty-four hours. I answered and lied, telling her a friend had been in an accident and I was at the hospital with him. I took the scolding she gave me, but I barely heard a word of it.

Soon, Jack arrived, followed by Andrew and a girl I didn't recognize, likely Jeni. They all looked devastated. Jack was pacing, cursing Anthony's name, while Andrew tried to comfort the crying girl.

A nurse eventually approached us with a clipboard. "I need someone to sign these consent and admission forms," she said. She looked at me skeptically. "Who are you to the patient? Only a family or a legal guardian can sign."

I froze, my mind searching for an answer.

"He's her boyfriend," Jordan stated firmly, stepping forward. "You can let him handle the formalities."

I gulped, feeling a surge of guilt for continuing the lie to my friend, but I didn't have a choice. I took the pen and filled out the forms as quickly as I could.

After that, there was nothing left to do but wait. I sat in a plastic chair, head in my hands, listening to the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock. My heart was pounding. Please, God, I prayed silently, don't take her away from me now.