Page 180 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

He stood glaring out of the other window, one hand braced on the glass, shoulders rigid. Every few minutes he turned toward the screens where Xander sat with his hands bound in front of him, trying too hard to stay quiet. Then he’d turn back to the window, jaw working, body humming with a wrath that had nowhere to go…legally.

Ruxs and Green were worse in a different way.

They moved in short, sharp patterns around the room, never far from each other, never far from Genesis, both waiting for permission to do what they did best. Rain down trouble.

Their son had been taken and was tied up, and bleeding. The only reason Ruxs and Green hadn’t destroyed Los Angeles was because God had told them not to.

Steele stood near the far wall, still as ice except for the smooth iron baoding balls rotating in his right hand. His fingers and thumb moved with slow, practiced control, circling the ancient Chinese tools—meant to lower stress and sharpen focus—around each other in his palm.

The man he loved was trapped somewhere across the city, unarmed, pretending his glasses were just glasses while two kidnappers kept circling, hoping he’d step out of line, just once.

Tech and Free stayed quiet on the open line.

They didn’t ask what the plan was. Didn’t ask if God had one. They just stayed still, alive, trusting him to find a way.

That trust was a motherfucker of weight God could feel on his shoulders, grinding down into muscle and bone.

He’d spent his entire career making the impossible happen because his team expected it from him—kick down the door. Find the witness. Stop the shooter. Get the drugs off the streets.

He’d pulled successes out of nothing, dragged survivors from the trenches, and forced justice through the gaping holes in the system.

He thought he’d experienced it all.

He hadn’t.

This was family, and the law had his fucking hands tied behind his back.

He couldn’t tell the room his plan until he knew he was actually coming.

“Where’s your backup, God?” Cassidy’s voice cut across the suite.

Everyone looked at him.

Cassidy’s dark eyes were bloodshot and weary. “You said you sent for help. Where are they?”

God didn’t answer, because he didn’t have one.

Not really.

All he had was a black phone, one text message, and the trust that the man he’d called would honor his word and come when he sent for him.

On screen, Xander shifted, and squirmed on the unforgiving concrete.

One of the kidnappers barked at him to stop moving.

Cassidy flinched as if the command had struck him physically.

Day stepped closer to God, close enough their shoulders touched. He didn’t say anything. His presence was reassurance, a reminder that whatever happened, he wouldn’t be standing alone.

Another hour crawled by in pieces.

Fox’s voice finally came through the speakers.

“God.”

The room snapped toward the screen where Fox’s face stared back from his ranch office. His cap was turned backwards on his head now, his expression hard and focused, the glow of Free’s system painting his face in cold light.

God stepped closer. “What?”