The silence that followed Renn’s crushing of the burner phone lasted exactly three seconds. Then, the double doors at the far end of the warehouse were kicked open.
“Moving in! Go!” a voice barked.
Some men in tactical vests flooded the room, their heavy flashlights illuminating the warehouse. They didn't look like police; they had the rigid, aggressive posture of private security, the kind of men who got paid to ask questions later. They were armed with batons and tasers, their boots thundering against the concrete as they locked onto us.
They were private security, who obviously worked for Hargrove.
“Theo, get behind the crates. Now!” I commanded, pushing the boy back. Theo’s teeth were chattering so hard I could hear them clicking, he was shivering so hard his knees were knocking b
