I didn’t rationalize. PD was hurt and needed me, so taking our truck and slamming it into the cops’ bikes required no explanation. I hit the gas.
“Woah!” King gripped the handle above the door, whooping at the crunch of metal under the wheels as I drove over the bikes, then slammed on the brakes again.
Dallas jolted forward between me and King, grasping at King’s thigh tightly as we pulled to a sharp stop. I turned the vehicle so the headlights flashed across PD and the cops.
I shoved open my door and was out of the truck before King and Dallas had time to process. Gravel crunched under my boots as I stalked toward the six guys standing over a half-conscious PD. The wind whipped around my face, cooling the heat that spread across my cheeks.
One of the guys came at me and swung a fist, but my muscle memory kicked in, and I ducked, avoiding the punch while simultaneously jamming my knuckles into his gut. He grunted and went down to his hands and knees, and I kicked him across the jaw for good measure, dropping him fully to the ground.
By the time Dallas and King caught up, the other five guys were coming at me, ready for a fight I was more than happy to give them. Adrenaline roared through my veins, surpassing any pain that resonated from my ribs and spine.
My focus was on PD and getting him to a doctor. I couldn’t see him well from here, but I didn’t miss the silly smile he sent me. His eyes closed and he slumped into the grass. He had to be hurt somewhere, and I needed to get to him to assess the damage.
Two guys veered toward King, while one gave Dallas their attention. They had their guns out, but King and Dallas were quick.
A shot went off, but no one yelped or yelled, so I ignored it.
I focused on the two assholes in front of me as they yanked out their handguns, but I was already tackling one of them, throwing him to the ground in the long grass. I slammed my knuckles against the guy’s jaw, and thecrackthat echoed through the air was one of the most satisfying sounds I’d ever heard. I snatched his gun from him and rolled onto my back, hitting the trigger. The bullet lodged into the forehead of the man still standing and he dropped to the ground. Then, I was back on the first guy, jamming the butt of the gun against his temple.
He screamed, head flinging back against the grass. I pointed the muzzle at his forehead. It wasn’t easy to see in the dark, but I recognized his build. He was the cop PD drew. Martin Loubeck.
Well, I guess it was a good thing he wasn’t the cop I shot.
“Do you know who I am?” he yelled, and I was grateful we were on a somewhat abandoned road. It wouldn’t take much for someone to come along, though, so we needed to do this fast.
I glanced toward PD, cataloging the changes since the last time I’d seen him. The headlights from our truck cut across his face. He was still and pale, eyes closed. Too fucking pale. Anger and worry bubbled in my chest, deep in my scarred and battered lungs, until it grew difficult to breathe around the emotions.
I wanted to kill and maim and destroy, while I also wanted to rush over to PD and take care of him the way he’d always done for me.
PD came first.
“King, here’s Loubeck,” I snapped over my shoulder. “Maybe this bastard can tell us where the cash is. PD needs me.”
Dallas was at my side in seconds, and I passed him the gun before I rushed toward PD. From the corner of my eye, I noted the other guys were down. Dead. All of them.
Sometimes I forgot Dallas was a badass, too.
Dallas wouldn’t be happy, though. He’d said we shouldn’t kill anyone. It would cause too much trouble.
But they deserved it. And from what Jayce had told us, Loubeck had some pull, so surely he’d be able to tell us where to find the money.
I dropped to my knees beside PD, the sound of my blood roaring in my ears. My fingers twitched over PD’s unconscious body, and I hesitated, scared to touch him. Then, all at once, I was punched with the realization. He neededhelp.
He washurt.
Blood stained the thigh of his jeans, spreading and growing until my brain finally caught up with what was happening.
I screamed “help him” over and over in my head. My thought process had shifted from the speed of molasses to a KawasakiNinja. Finally, my limbsmovedand I scooped PD in my arms, his weight heavy but steady.
I ignored King and Dallas, ignored the ache in my ribs and spine, ignored the yelling in my head as adrenaline fired in my veins, fueling my desperation.
PD needed help. Now.
I didn’t realize Dallas was right behind me until he yanked open the passenger door for me when I reached the truck. I cut him a glance, and he offered me a short nod.
“I’ll call for backup with the boys. Get someone out here. We’ll get these bikes off the road before anyone notices. Hide the cash they’ve got here.” A worried smile twisted his lips. “Get PD help. Grant’s at home. Take him there. We’ll let him know you’re on the way.”
Words caught in my throat, and I opened my mouth, only to close it again. Dallas’s smile told me he understood, and then he closed the door once I had PD secured.
