Chapter 4 – Break In
1578 Words
The figure under the streetlamp didn’t move. Just stood there, the glow catching the edge of a hood, hands shoved deep into pockets.
Sienna’s mouth went dry. “Is that—”
“Not a friend,” Jax said quietly.
Her fingers dug into the curtain. “What do they want?”
He gave her a look that made her feel stupid for asking. “Same thing they wanted when they sent that photo. To scare you into shutting up.”
“It’s working,” she whispered.
“No,” he said, stepping back from the window. “Scared people make mistakes. We don’t.”
We. Like she was part of this now. She wasn’t sure when that happened, but it had.
“What do we do?” she asked.
“We wait,” he said, grabbing his jacket from the back of a chair. “If they try the door, I’ll handle it.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Then they’ll try something else.”
She stared at him. “That’s not comforting.”
“It’s not meant to be.”
They didn’t wait long.
Five minutes later, a faint scrape echoed from somewhere below. It was the kind of sound you wouldn’t notice unless you were listening for it—a metallic drag, then the slow groan of hinges.
Jax was already moving, silent and fast. He flicked a switch on the wall, killing every light in the loft. Sienna blinked into the sudden dark, her pulse thundering in her ears.
“Stay here,” he murmured.
“Like hell—”
“Stay. Here.” His tone left no room for argument.
Her feet rooted to the floor as he crossed to the kitchen counter, retrieving the gun he’d left earlier. The metallic click of him chambering a round was louder than it should’ve been.
Another sound—a door downstairs easing shut. Footsteps. Slow. Deliberate.
Her brain screamed at her to hide. She ducked behind the couch, hands gripping the fabric so tightly her knuckles ached.
The footsteps grew louder, climbing the stairs to the loft. Whoever it was didn’t rush. They moved like they had all the time in the world.
The floorboards creaked under the weight of a body crossing the threshold.
And then—silence.
She held her breath.
The sudden crash of something hitting the floor made her jump. A chair? A table? She couldn’t see.
Then Jax’s voice, low and hard: “Wrong door, friend.”
A stranger’s voice answered—smooth, casual, almost amused. “Just looking for someone.”
“You found the wrong someone.”
“You sure? Because I heard you’ve been asking about a little girl who doesn’t belong to you.”
Her blood turned to ice.
The man’s footsteps shifted. She could picture him scanning the room, eyes adjusting to the dark.
“You alone, Maddox?” the stranger asked.
“No,” Jax said. “And you’re not leaving here unless I let you.”
The sound of movement—fast, violent—made her flinch. The scuffle was brutal: a grunt, a thud, the scrape of boots on wood. She couldn’t tell who was winning.
Her fight-or-flight screamed at her to do something, but before she could move, the loft went still again.
A shadow loomed over the couch, and she nearly screamed—until she saw it was Jax, breathing hard but steady.
“Stay down,” he said.
“What happened?”
“He’s gone.”
She peeked over the back of the couch toward the open doorway. “Gone? Just like that?”
“Ran when I told him what would happen if he didn’t,” Jax said.
“And what’s that?”
“He didn’t stick around to find out.”
Sienna didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.
Every creak of the building made her tense. Every gust of wind against the window had her glancing toward the street. But the sedan was gone by dawn, and the figure under the lamp had vanished.
Jax stood at the counter, pouring coffee into a chipped mug. He looked like he’d been awake the whole time.
“You’re making more enemies than friends,” she said, wrapping her hands around the warmth of the mug he slid toward her.
“Wasn’t looking for friends.”
“Good, because you’re terrible at it.”
His mouth twitched. “Eat something. We’ve got work to do.”
By midmorning, they were back on his bike, weaving through traffic toward the hospital.
“This is a bad idea,” she said into the comm in her helmet.
“Most of my ideas are,” he replied. “Still usually works out.”
“I feel so reassured.”
“Try to look like you’re supposed to be there. And don’t talk to anyone unless you have to.”
She did her best to follow that advice. Walking through the ER entrance in scrubs she’d stashed in her locker, she felt almost normal—like she could pretend the last twenty-four hours hadn’t happened.
Almost.
Jax waited in the shadows just outside the ambulance bay, watching the flow of people. He was wearing a plain black hoodie now, the kind of thing that made him look more like a brooding ex-boyfriend than an outlaw biker.
She ducked into the admin office and logged in to the system. Her fingers trembled as she searched for Emily Reyes again. Same results. Same dead end at “Transferred to Pediatrics.”
But today, she tried something different—searching for patient transfers in that exact hour window, no name filter.
Her breath caught.
Four transfers logged in ten minutes. All kids. All files marked restricted access.
She clicked the first one.
Error: File Not Found.
The second. Same thing.
The third. Error.
Her stomach dropped. This wasn’t just Emily.
She exited the screen fast, closing the search before anyone could see.
She stepped back into the hallway—and froze.
Dr. Mason was standing there.
“You’re working pediatrics now?” he asked, voice smooth but laced with something she didn’t like.
“Just consulting,” she said, forcing a smile.
“Funny,” he said, glancing at the empty coffee cup in his hand. “Because I could swear you were here on your day off.”
“I had paperwork to—”
“You should go home, Dr. Blake,” he interrupted. “Get some rest.”
Her pulse skipped. There was nothing in his tone she could grab onto, nothing overt. But she could feel it—an undercurrent of warning.
She nodded and walked away, heart hammering.
Jax was waiting by the loading dock.
“Well?”
“It’s not just Emily,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Three other kids. All gone from the system.”
His expression didn’t change, but his eyes went darker. “Names?”
“Files are locked. I can’t get in.”
“Not without help,” he said.
“What kind of help?”
“The kind that knows how to break into a hospital server.”
She stared at him. “You have someone for that?”
“I have someone for everything.”
She didn’t doubt it.
They left through the staff exit, the cold air a slap after the hospital’s heat. The bike was parked at the end of the alley. Jax handed her the helmet, but before she could take it, a voice called out from behind them.
“Well, well. Maddox.”
They both turned.
Three men stood at the mouth of the alley, leather cuts marked with a patch she didn’t recognize. The one in the middle—tall, blond, all teeth—grinned at her like she was dessert.
“This your new girlfriend?” he asked.
Jax didn’t answer. His body shifted just enough to put himself between her and them.
“Don’t remember inviting you to town,” the blond one said.
“Didn’t ask for permission,” Jax replied.
The man’s grin widened. “You should’ve. Because now we’ve got a problem.”
Jax’s voice dropped into something cold. “You don’t want this problem.”
“Oh, I think we do,” the man said—and with a flick of his hand, the two at his sides pulled knives.
Sienna’s brain screamed at her to run, but her feet wouldn’t move. The alley seemed to shrink, the air thick with the promise of violence.
Jax didn’t hesitate. He shoved her toward the bike. “Get on and don’t look back.”
“What about—”
“Now, Sienna!”
She scrambled onto the seat, her fingers fumbling with the helmet strap. The sound of footsteps pounding on wet pavement filled her ears. She risked a glance—Jax was already moving, a blur of motion, taking down the first man with a brutal strike to the jaw.
The second lunged. Jax caught his wrist, twisted, and the knife clattered to the ground.
The blond one hung back, watching.
And smiling.
When Jax turned to grab his bike, the blond man spoke again—loud enough for both of them to hear.
“Ask him why he really cares about that girl, sweetheart.”
Sienna’s stomach flipped.
“What?” she called out.
But Jax didn’t answer.
Didn’t even look at her.
- Writer
