"Guys… I don't think this is right," Billy muttered, his voice barely audible over the low rumble of the van's engine.
His palms were slick with sweat, his heart pounding like a war drum as he stared at the black ski mask in his lap.
But it was too late to back out now.
They were parked in a dimly lit alley across from a luxury apartment building, twelve men crammed inside the white van, each one masked, wired with adrenaline, and ready to do the unthinkable.
The plan was simple—at least, that's what they kept telling themselves.
Grab one of Ross Oakley's wives, drag her inside, and break her.
Violate her so thoroughly that the golden boy of Parkland City would never forget the humiliation.
It was an eye for an eye… or so they claimed.
Billy swallowed hard, his gut twisting. He wasn't a criminal.
Hell, he wasn't even the type to cheat on a math test back in college. But now?
Now he was about to cross a line he could never return from.
