Chapter 6 - The Real Enemy Surfaces
Chaos erupted in the quiet suburban hallway.
Shards of glass rained down like diamond dust as a second bullet embedded itself deep into the drywall just inches above Lauren’s head. Paige screamed from the kitchen, clutching crying Ren tightly as she dropped to the floor behind the breakfast bar.
"Down! Stay down!" Colton roared, his voice dropping into a lethal, commanding register that brooked no argument.
In one fluid motion, Colton drew the silenced Glock from his shoulder holster, his body coiling like a spring. He didn't hesitate. He kicked open the front door, slipping out into the darkness of the porch while communicating in rapid, clipped code into his sleeve mic.
"Vance! Sector four! Sniper in the oak tree across the street—take him alive!"
Outside, the muffled thwip-thwip of silenced automatic gunfire echoed through the night, followed by a heavy thud as a body hit the pavement across the manicured lawn. Within thirty seconds, absolute silence descended once more.
Colton stepped back inside through the shattered doorway, his face carved from granite. A small graze bled across his left forearm, but he didn't even notice. He rushed straight into the kitchen, dropping to his knees beside Paige and Ren.
"Are they okay?" Colton demanded, his hands hovering over his daughter as if afraid to touch her.
"We're fine! She's fine!" Paige gasped, trembling violently as she handed Ren over to Colton.
Colton scooped his daughter into his arms, pulling her tiny body against his broad chest. His eyes closed, and for a terrifying second, his shoulders shook as he pressed his face into Ren’s soft blanket, breathing in her scent like a lifeline. When he looked up at Lauren, his gaze was dark, hardened by absolute rage.
"That wasn't a random hit," Colton said, his voice cold enough to freeze blood. "That was an inside leak. The Moreno cartel didn't find this location on their own. Someone within my own inner circle gave them our coordinates."
Lauren slowly stood up, her legs shaking as the adrenaline crash set in. She looked at Colton holding their daughter—the man she had accused of abandonment just ten minutes ago, who had literally just used his own body as a shield against a sniper bullet.
"Who?" Lauren whispered.
"Tom," Colton replied, the name falling from his lips like falling lead.
Paige gasped. "Your brother?"
"My older brother," Colton confirmed, his jaw tightening until the muscle feathered. "Tom has been running the Savannah docks while I’ve been building our legitimate portfolio. He’s been bitter for years that our father left the crown to me. He made a backroom deal with the Moreno cartel to hand over the family empire in exchange for a clean slate and half the shipping lanes. He was the one who leaked the flight itinerary to make you run, Lauren. He wanted to fracture my family so I’d be vulnerable when they made their move."
Lauren stared at her husband, the pieces of the puzzle violently snapping into place. The late-night phone calls, the hidden tension, the sudden appearance of the flight reservation—it wasn't Colton pushing her away; it was Tom engineering a masterpiece of psychological warfare to destroy them from within.
"What do we do now?" Lauren asked, her voice steadying as the fear evaporated, replaced by a cold, shared fury.
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Colton looked down at Ren, then raised his eyes to meet Lauren’s. There was no more deception between them. The masks were gone.
"We finish this," Colton said quietly, racking the slide of his weapon. "Tonight, my brother learns what happens when you touch a Beckett."
