Chapter 72 Gone

• The safehouse door bangs open like a shot — Decker’s laugh sharp and sloppy where he stumbles through first, shoulder slammed to the hallway wall while he drags the last of the whiskey from Vince’s stash straight to the couch.
• Bishop’s behind him — phone in hand, flicking through the feed Knox keeps half-tucked behind a burner app no one but them knows the password for.
• Knox’s boots hit the floor last — heavy, mean, the hush under his breath thick enough to choke the tiny lightbulb humming over the kitchen table.