Collateral Blood

24

The moonlight bathed the harbour in a cold, pale glow as Harry climbed back into the SUV. Sloan sat in the passenger seat, her eyes wide with questions. He could see the tension in her body, the way her fingers fidgeted with the gun still strapped to her thigh.

"What did he say?" she asked, her voice quiet but steady.

Harry glanced at her, then started the engine. "He's just a messenger. Sent by your father to make sure you're still alive."

Sloan's heart clenched at the mention of her father. Lucas Montgomery—her father, the man who had raised her with love, who had seemed so kind, so protective—wasn't who she thought he was. He was a criminal, a manipulator, and now, the man who had lied to her her whole life. She looked out at the dark water beyond the docks, her mind swirling with confusion and anger.

"Why would he send someone here?" she asked, her voice shaky with a mix of fear and disbelief.

Harry pulled the SUV out of the shadows and onto the empty road, heading toward the outskirts of the harbour where Zayn and Tom were waiting with the rest of the crew. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles white against the leather.

"Your father knows we're not going to hand you back," he said, his voice low and controlled. "He's trying to scare us. But it's not going to work."

Sloan stared at him, her mind racing. She couldn't trust anything anymore. Her father had been involved in this world for who knows how long, and now Harry was talking about not giving her back—as if she had no choice in the matter. But maybe... maybe she didn't want to go back. Maybe she didn't want to be part of the lie her father had built around her.

"I want to help," she said, surprising herself with how firm her voice sounded. "I told you before—I'm on your side. I'm done being a pawn in my father's game."

Harry glanced at her, his green eyes narrowing slightly as if he were trying to read her mind. "We'll see about that."

As they neared the rendezvous point, Harry's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, seeing Zayn's name flash across it. He put the call on speaker as he drove.

"Harry," Zayn's voice crackled through the car. "We've got eyes on the Vipers. They're making moves. Looks like they're preparing for something big."

Harry's jaw tightened. "What do you mean 'something big'?"

"More vehicles, more men," Zayn replied. "They're mobilising for a full-scale assault. Lucas isn't playing around anymore."

Sloan felt a chill run down her spine. The image of her father leading a gang of violent men, preparing to tear through anyone who stood in his way, was hard to reconcile with the man who had raised her. But the reality was sinking in now—he wasn't just the man who had told her bedtime stories and kissed her on the forehead. He was dangerous, and if he found them, he wouldn't hesitate to destroy everything in his path.

Harry kept his eyes on the road, his mind working quickly. They needed to move fast. The ambush they had planned at the harbour needed to be flawless. There was no room for mistakes now.

"Stick to the plan," Harry said firmly. "We hit them hard, take the product, and leave no loose ends."

Zayn hesitated on the other end of the line. "And what about the girl?"

Sloan tensed, her eyes flicking to Harry. She knew she wasn't just a bystander in this anymore. She was in deep, and there was no turning back.

Harry's gaze shifted to her for a moment before he answered. "She's with us."

Zayn didn't respond immediately, but after a moment, he sighed. "Understood. I'll get Tom on it and prep the ambush."

The line went dead, and the car was filled with the quiet hum of the engine. Sloan stared out of the window, her thoughts tangled in a web of confusion and fear. But beneath it all, there was a strange sense of resolve growing inside her. She wasn't just some helpless victim anymore. She was part of this now, whether she liked it or not.

As they approached the harbour, Harry slowed the car and pulled over, parking in the shadow of a large shipping container. He turned off the engine and sat back in his seat for a moment, staring ahead at the dark expanse of the dockyard.

"You sure you're ready for this?" he asked, his voice low.

Sloan looked at him, feeling the weight of his question. She wasn't sure about anything anymore, but she knew one thing—she wasn't going to let her father's lies define her any longer.

"I'm ready," she said, her voice steady.

Harry's green eyes flickered with something unspoken as he held her gaze for a moment longer than necessary. There was tension between them, thick in the air like the storm clouds that loomed above. She already had the holster strapped to her thigh, the weight of the gun a constant reminder of how far she'd come from her old life. Yet, here she was, standing in the shadows of a dockyard, on the brink of something she couldn't fully comprehend.

He didn't need to say anything, and yet she could feel it—the pull between them. It was dangerous, intoxicating. His rough exterior, the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his lips twitched when he was thinking. She didn't want to notice these things, but she couldn't help it.

Harry stepped closer, the scent of cigarettes and leather clinging to him. His proximity sent a shiver down her spine. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, and it stirred something inside her that she didn't expect—a mix of fear and desire, tangled up in a knot she didn't know how to untie.

"Stay close to me," he said, his voice low and gravelly, barely more than a whisper.

It wasn't just an order—it was something more. Sloan felt a tremor of anticipation, an unspoken promise lingering in the air. The way he looked at her wasn't just as a kidnapper and a victim anymore. There was something else there, simmering beneath the surface.

"Harry..." she began, but her words faltered when his hand found her wrist, pulling her just a bit closer. His touch was rough, but there was a strange gentleness behind it, as if he was holding back, caught between who he was and what he felt. Sloan's breath hitched as his fingers brushed against her skin, lingering just long enough to send a thrill through her.

He leaned down, his lips barely an inch from her ear. "We get through this, and then we talk," he whispered, his voice sending a pulse of heat through her. "But not now."

Her heart pounded in her chest, the weight of his words heavy with implication. She didn't know what he meant by "talk," but she knew that whatever it was, it would change everything between them. And maybe that was what scared her the most—how much she wanted that change.

He pulled back, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of hesitation. But she didn't falter. Not anymore.

"Let's move," Harry said, and this time, she followed him with a newfound resolve.

As they moved through the shadows of the harbour, Sloan couldn't stop thinking about the way his touch had lingered on her skin, the way his voice had softened for just a moment. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to this than a twisted game of survival. Maybe there was something real between them, something dangerous and irresistible.

But now wasn't the time to figure it out. Now was the time to survive.