I stomp the brake. “I don’t see anything, Holden.”
“It’s right there,” he says desperately.
I connect the call to my phone and step out of the SUV. We’re in a shitty neighborhood, and people are eyeing us warily.
“What can I do for you, fellas?” An older black gentleman asks, leaning against a brick wall.
“We’re looking for someone,” Dex says. “Six-two. Dark wavy hair might be with a pretty girl with black hair.”
“You lose your girl?” the guy chuckles, and I try to keep my temper in check. He shakes his head. “Haven’t seen him.” This is the type of neighborhood where they never see anything.
“We aren’t fucking cops,” I say impatiently, tired of the games.
“I know who you are,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t like your kind around here.”
“My kind?” I ask incredulously.
“Mafioso. Boys with egos too fucking big, thinking they run the place.”
“Come on. We don’t have time for this shit,” I tell Dex, and we start to walk away. More guys step out from behind the building, blocking our path, and I’m done with this shit. I pull my Glocks at the same time Dex does. “If you know who the fuck I am, then you know I’m not playing games. Move,” I threaten.
“Ryder!” I hear Holden yell from my phone and put it back to my ear. “The phone is flashing two buildings down; I narrowed the search.”
“We seem to be in disagreement with the neighborhood friendlies,” I tell Holden.
“Look, man,” Dex says, never lowering his weapons, “The girl we’re looking for is the girl I love, so I suggest you tell your boys to move, or we will level this fucking neighborhood.”
The guy tilts his head and flicks his cigarette toward us. It lands right at my boot. “Go on then,” he finally says and jerks his head for the others to follow. They all slink back into the building the guy was leaning against. We tuck our guns away and take off at a dead sprint. We round the corner of the building Holden indicated and come skidding to a stop.
The car they stole is full of bullet holes, and Gage is slumped over the steering wheel. We run at the same time. I jerk open the driver’s side door, and Dex pulls open the passenger side.
I put my phone on speakerphone and lay it on the dash. “Gage,” I say softly. His eyes are shut, blood pouring from his head and out of his mouth. I’m afraid to move or touch him, so my hands flutter around him. “Gage!” He doesn’t stir, and I meet Dex’s eyes from the passenger side.
“There’s no sign of Les, and there is blood in the seat,” Dex says, closing his eyes. They burn with panic, worry, and anger when he opens them again.
“What’s going on?” Holden asks, and I can hear the quiver in his voice.
“Where’s Leo?” I ask, checking Gage for a pulse. It is weak, but it’s there. I try not to slump in relief. He needs an ambulance. Now. “Dex, call nine-one-one, then call Doc. We can’t take care of this at home.” Dex nods and whips out his phone.
“Asleep.”
“Wake him up. Now.” Holden doesn’t answer, but I can hear him run from the room. “Gage. Goddamnit, don’t die on me.”
There is too much blood, and he’s so damn pale; his usually smiling face is slack.
“Fifteen minutes,” Dex says, sticking his head back in. “We can’t be here.”
“We can’t fucking leave him!”
“Ryder,” Dex says harshly. “Doc will meet them there. We’ll wait until we hear sirens, then we can follow them to the hospital, then find Les.”
I don’t even want to think about that. If Gage is this bad and Les is missing, they were ambushed. Could Viktor have organized that fast?
“What’s going on?” Leo’s voice filters through, and I fill him in as fast as possible. “I’ll meet him at the hospital.” I hear him gulp. “Is he going to die, Ryder?”
“No. He’s not,” I say adamantly. Mainly to soothe him but also to soothe myself. “He’s not, Leo, and we willfind Les.”
Fifteen minutes is too damn long, so between Dex and me, we lay Gage back in the seat, and his eyelids don’t even flutter. The front of his white shirt is drenched in blood, and I can’t even begin to look for a wound. Dex pulls out a knife, flips it open, and slits Gage’s shirt. What I see makes me want to fucking fall apart.
