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I cock my head to the side. “I don’t care.”

Headlights sweep across the front windows, painting the walls in bright white arcs. Doors open and close, one after another, voices carrying through the night air.

Backup has arrived.

The man must realize it’s over, because he raises his arms, blood dripping from his hand. “This was just a job, man.”

“You’re in my home.” Switching my grip on the gun, I ease behind Kain and pull the knife from my pocket. “You hurt my mate.”

“I wasn’t going to kill him,” the guy insists.

With a swift move, I pop the zip ties holding Kain to the chair. “Are you the one who hit him over the head in the Stackers’ parking lot?”

He hesitates, and it’s all the answer I need. I shoot him in the shoulder, right in the joint. Fucker will never taking another swing at anyone.

He screams just as the front door bursts open.

Rowan enters first, gun drawn, sweeping the room. Lev follows, then Orien, with Saint bringing up the rear.

Rowan finds me beside Kain, then takes in the bleeding but still alive man in front of us. Saint swoops forward to tie his wrists behind his back, ignoring his screams.

“There’s another at the bottom of the basement stairs,” I say. “Still alive, but unconscious.”

Orien moves toward the basement without a word. Lev stays by the door, his pale gray-green eyes taking in the scene with the flat assessment of someone used to blood.

“Luca?” Kain asks.

“Found him locked in his trunk three houses down,” Saint grunts as he hauls his prisoner to his feet, half carrying the man. “He’s alive, but drugged. Ash is with him.”

Rowan holsters his gun and crosses to Kain. He crouches, examining the new injuries. “Hospital?”

Kain rubs his raw wrists where the plastic bit into his skin. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” I cut in as I flip the safety back on my gun. “That guy hit you, and you already have a head injury. You need an X-ray.”

He turns to me, anger simmering under the surface. “Why didn’t you stay in the safe room?”

“Because I’m stubborn,” I snap at him.

“Oh, I see how it’s going to be now.” He tries to sit straighter and hisses.

I lean down until only inches separate us. “Yes, this is how it’s going to be now.”

“Okay, you two, save it⁠—”

A crack punches through the room, and Saint jerks as the man in his grip goes limp.

For one strange second, Saint keeps holding him, his arm locked around the guy’s chest as if his body hasn’t caught up with what just happened.

Then blood blooms across the prisoner’s shirt.

Rowan spins toward the windows. “Down!”

Kain grabs me and yanks me toward the floor as Lev lunges away from the front door. Saint stares at the man sprawled half across his legs, shock wiping every trace of his usual composure from his face.

“What the fuck?” Saint drops with him, catching most of his weight before they hit the floor.

The man’s head lolls onto his shoulder, his body going limp.