Page 60 of Worshiping Faith

They don’t know how many of us are here. That could be a problem. If they think we’re a bigger threat, the backup theybring could really overpower us. And we won’t have the time or the resources to deal with it.

“They’re backing off. Pussies. We got twenty-four hours,” Zachs responds, his voice laced with amusement.

“What did they demand?” I ask. They’re not giving us time to nap.

“Jinx and Fredricks,” Zachs says. He clearly finds it funny. After a long, drawn-out silence, he adds, “Relax. They didn’t specify alive.”

My jaw tightens. It’s a countdown.

“Send someone to cover my tower,” Dax orders, voice flat. It’s not a request.

I don’t hesitate. “On it.” I toss a rifle to Grip. He’s not the best shot, but he’s loyal.

I start pacing, the urge to move like a pressure that won’t let up. Our next moves matter. If they know Fredricks is dead, it’ll escalate things. But I wouldn’t put it past Zachs to drag his damn corpse right out to them, just to stir the pot.

Dax is moving faster than he should be. There’s a glint in his eyes, that sharp, calculating look. The kind that says he’s done fucking around.

“Useless,” he mutters, scanning the yard with ruthless precision. He snatches his walkie and barks, “Trip, yard. Send…” He blows out a breath, a growl of frustration slipping out. “Fuck. Someone to relieve Zachs. Zachs, get to the yard.”

I keep my distance but step closer. He’s already thinking five steps ahead, like always. He’s the kind of man who doesn’t waste time second-guessing. Every move is already mapped out in his head.

“What we doing, Dax?” I ask. I can feel the tension vibrating off him. We’re nearing a decision point. I see the look in his eyes, the hard line of his jaw. He’s done thinking, done talking. He’s ready to make it happen.

I’ll hold the Faith and Quince shit for later. Right now, the next move matters more. But damn, if I’m not gonna need a drink after this.

Trip and Zachs hurry over.

Faith walks toward us, purpose in every step. That’s why we need two comms channels. One for us, and one including her. She doesn’t even say hello, just pulls up on her toes and kisses Dax like they’re in a damn porno flick.

Zachs lets out a low whistle. “Well, fuck me, should I look away or take notes?”

Trip elbows him in the ribs, but Zachs just grins.

Faith pulls back, her hand still on Dax’s chest, like she’s grounding him. “What’s going on?”

Dax’s jaw twitches, his hand settling on her waist for a second before he steps back. He’s still running too hot, and if she weren’t here, he’d be pacing like a caged animal.

Zachs is looking at Faith in a way that should get him killed.

And that’s when it clicks. Dax was serious about us and her. And Zachs has already…

Shit.

Faith meets Zachs’ gaze for half a beat, something unspoken passing between them, but she stays anchored to Dax.

“We got twenty-four hours,” Zachs says. “Let ‘em dock. I’ll handle it.”

“That boat is ours,” Dax says, his voice like stone. “Here’s what’s going down. I want every rifle on the wall. Nothing gets by. They know exactly who the fuck is on this island.”

“The boat,” Trip says, his tone unreadable. I can’t tell if he’s praising Dax’s plan or questioning it.

“The getaway boat quiet enough to get near?” Dax asks.

“You fuckin’ what?” I say.

“Pirate style?” Zachs grins. “I dig it.”

“You planning on waiting ‘til morning to let me in on this plan, or…” I start, but Dax cuts me off.

---