White-hot fury burned through every inch of his body as he ripped open the door and stormed up the steps leading to the side of the cabin. Blood-red and ocean-blue lights flickered up into the night sky, painting it with their own shade of misery. It occurred to him then that he was caught—that there was no way out but to go down swinging.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
As he ascended the stairs and let his head emerge from ground level, the first thing he saw were three police cars. All their lights were on full beam, blasting out toward the basement. That was his first thought as he saw them—that they were not aimed at the cabin itself. Next, there was a sedan he couldn’t quite identify, one man stepping out from behind the driver’s seat. Beside that was what took his rage to a whole new level—the smoking Ford Explorer that had busted up his RV. Beside it, Mason Black’s sister and the young girl he’d almost shot.
“Son of a…”
Simon turned and hurried back down the steps, rushing back to his position of power. They were all here for him, to arrest him and to save Mason. But it was against his very clear instructions not to involve the police, and they had violated that rule. This meant one thing, and one thing only.
It was time to change the game.