Cade’s grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles turned white. He recognized that voice. It belonged to a man named Silas, the current president of the Iron Vipers, a rival crew from three counties over.
"Silas," Cade growled, keeping his voice low so Mia wouldn't hear the rising violence in his tone. "You strap a pipe bomb to a seven-year-old girl? Have you lost your damn mind?"
"It's not a pipe bomb, Cade. It's military-grade C4," Silas replied smoothly, the sound of windshield wipers thumping in the background of his audio. "And I didn't want to bring a kid into this. But you've been a ghost for six months. You took something that belongs to my crew. The ledger, Cade. The titanium lockbox you stripped off my brother's bike the night he went down. We know you still have it. We know you keep it in the saddlebags of that rusted-out cruiser sitting in the diner parking lot right now."
Cade glanced through the rain-streaked window. His motorcycle was parked under a flickering streetlamp. The heavy saddlebags were strapped tight.
"You want the ledger," Cade said, his mind racing. "Fine. You can have it. Just come get it and take this vest off the kid."
"I don't trust you, Cade. You're a snake," Silas laughed coldly. "Here are the rules. You walk out the front door of that diner with the lockbox. You set it on the curb. Then you walk back inside. Once my boys verify the ledger is inside, I'll text you the bypass code for the digital lock on the vest. You have twenty minutes."
"And if I don't?"
"Then I push a button, and the diner gets a new skylight," Silas said. "Oh, and Cade? I know about the pressure plate. I had my boy Rusty wire a dead-man's switch into the back panel. If the kid sits down, or if you try to take the vest off her without the bypass code, the circuit completes. Boom."
The line went dead.
Cade lowered his phone. The cold reality of the situation washed over him. He looked at Mia. Her small knees were visibly shaking. She had been standing for at least fifteen minutes since the van dropped her off. A child that small wouldn't be able to stand perfectly still for another twenty minutes. Her legs were going to give out.
"Sarah," Cade said, turning his head.
Sarah was standing by the counter, pale as a ghost, gripping a baseball bat from behind the register as if it could somehow stop an explosion.
"Sarah, I need you to bring over a stool from the counter," Cade instructed calmly. "A tall one. But don't bring it close to her. Bring it to me."
Sarah nodded, abandoning the bat. She dragged a heavy, vinyl-topped diner stool across the floor.
Cade stood up, shaking out his arms. He looked at Mia's terrified eyes. "Mia, I need you to do exactly what I say. I'm going to slide this stool right in front of you. I want you to lean forward, put your elbows on the seat, and rest your weight on your arms. But you cannot sit backward. Do you understand?"
Mia nodded, tears splashing onto her teddy bear.
Cade positioned the stool. Mia leaned forward, resting her elbows on the red vinyl cushion, taking the weight off her shaking legs. She let out a long breath of relief.
"Good girl," Cade said.
He moved behind her, inspecting the device closer. Silas had mentioned Rusty. Rusty was a paranoid engineer who built custom explosives for the Vipers. Cade knew Rusty’s work. Rusty never built anything without a backdoor, a flaw in the wiring that allowed him to disarm it if he made a mistake.