TWENTY-TWO
Tony
“FUCK,” GAGE SAID under his breath. He popped his seatbelt free, before reaching under his jacket and pulling out a gun. My heart skipped and pounded—I still wasn’t used to members of this pack waving firearms around.
This wasn’t the little snub-nosed conceal-carry pistol that I’d seen him use at the pack house, either. It was a very serious looking semi-automatic, carried in a very serious looking shoulder holster. Against all good sense, I grabbed his bulging bicep, my fingers digging in.
“What thehellare you planning to do?” I demanded. “There are three vehicles parked out there, and no way of knowing how many people came here in each one!”
“I’m going in for recon,” Gage said, not reacting to my hand on his arm as he checked the magazine on the gun and clicked it back into place. “Stay here. Keep the engine running, and if anyone comes outside that isn’t me, burn rubber.”
“What?” I yelped. “No! Gage...no. That’s a fucking moronic plan, and it’snot fucking happening.” Inside the battleground of my own damned head, good sense warred with whatever the opposite of good sense was. “Look... you just want to have a sneak around and try to see what’s going on in there? BecauseI’ve sneaked into a lot more places than you have, I’m willing to bet. I’ll go.”
My brain made unintelligible gibbering noises at me, becauseseriously? I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore the burning embers of my dearly departed sense of self-preservation.
Gage ran a beady eye over me. “The fuck you will. You’re not even armed, and as scared as you are of guns, I’m guessing you’ve never shot one in your life.”
“I’m armed,” I said, hearing the defensiveness creep into my voice. I dug into the pocket of my hoodie and pulled out my trusty pepper spray.
Gage grunted. “Right.” He hesitated for a long, fraught moment. “Fine, we’ll both go.”
He didn’t sound happy about it, which was fair. I was the one kicking up a fuss, andIwasn’t happy about it, either.
“Okay,” my mouth said, not waiting for approval from whatever was passing for my IQ these days.
“Okay,” Gage echoed, and I took a moment to wonder why we were doing this when we both knew how stupid it was.
“Wait, why are we doing this again?” I asked. “We could just call the police instead. Let them sort it out?”
A low rumble vibrated up from Gage’s barrel chest, making me shiver.
“Because my mate is in there, and I’m not a hundred percent sure whose side she’s on,” he growled.
“Yourphoneis in there,” I corrected. “That’s all we know for sure.”
Gage turned off the engine and cracked open the driver’s side door. “Come or don’t,” he said, all traces of the affable alpha marshmallow gone without a trace.
I swallowed whatever words had been gathering in my throat and got out of the Yukon, clutching my pepper spray in one sweaty hand.
There was no question of hiding as we approached. The chain link gates weren’t locked, but the rusty hinges shrieked like a banshee as Gage pushed one open far enough for us to slip through. It was broad daylight, and while the area around the derelict grain warehouse was overgrown, it wasn’t a forest. I kept as low to the ground as I could, moving through the tall grasses and weeds—hoping that no one inside happened to be looking through one of the missing windows facing in our direction.
Gage also crouched low, although the fact that he had a good eight inches of height on me certainly wasn’t helping him in the ‘staying out of sight’ department. But there was no sign of any guards posted outside, and no movement from inside as we crossed the final distance. A moment later, we fetched up in front of a massive pair of mildewed wooden sliding doors, like the kind you saw on old barns.
I pulled out my phone to double check that Gage’s signal was definitely coming from this building rather than one of the huge, cylindrical silos flanking it—then gave him a nod of confirmation. He nodded back, grabbing a rusted handle in one meaty fist and heaving. The door slid to the side with an awful groaning noise, inch by painful inch.
The instant it was open wide enough to admit a person, a slight form bolted through the gap, shoving past me and sending me staggering. Adrenaline surged through me, even as Gage shouted, “Oy!” and lifted his gun.
“Don’t!” I gasped, whirling just in time to see a child dart into the tall grass and disappear from view.
Gage cursed and pointed the gun’s muzzle safely skyward.
