Go.
Go?
A valet pulled up with Brennan’s motorcycle. Police sirens came closer.
Go.It came again, this time from both Brennan and Jett.
“Tell the police what happened. I’m going after Grace.” I handed Riley Jett’s phone and grabbed Jett’s gun.
“What the fuck? You’re not a superhero.” Fear leaked through her voice.
“No, just ex-military. I’ll be back. Promise,” I told her, getting approval from the bonds of all three of my mates. Especially Wes, who knew exactly what I’d done for the military beforegetting desk duty. I didn’t know what Spencer thought, but surely, he’d approve.
Without waiting, I got on Brennan’s motorcycle. I pulled up the location tracker on my phone, used it to track Grace’s phone, and hooked it up to the comm system in Brennan’s helmet.
“Love you,” I called as I took off toward Jett’s car.
The guys should hopefully be okay. The stun would wear off. But Grace… she needed our helpnow.There wasn’t time to wait for the police or the guys. I couldn’t let her brothers take her to Rosalind–or another world.
Following the navigation, I sped after Jett’s convertible. While I’d never been part of some elite strike team back in the military, because of my size, I had been on a retrieval team. We did a lot of breaking down doors, busting heads, and speeding after people, on jobs where they didn’t need anyone fancy, just a bunch of large people with guns.
Usually, we’d have someone helping us–changing stoplights, unlocking doors, and blurring cameras. It was how Wes and I met. Well, sort of. I knew his voice long before I ever saw him.
When I saw him, I knew I wanted to be his. He’d also been fucking pissed at me. While he hadn’t been part of my most recent op, the team I was on had sort of fucked up his.
But he forgave me. Oh, did he ever forgive me.
Jett’s convertible came into view, the top still down. I got closer, hoping they’d think I was just a guy on a motorcycle.
Yeah, those assholes paid me no mind. They weren’t even really speeding. Did they not think that they’d suffer any repercussions?
Mmmm, between their potential to be sigmas and whatever their mom told them, probably not.
Grace was in the back seat, just there, like a sack of potatoes, not even belted.
I drove up beside them, hoping that Brennan–and my body– would forgive me for what I was about to do. I leapt off the moving motorcycle into the back seat of the car.Ow.
“What the fuck, man?” one of them yelled.
Without waiting, I grabbed Grace, opened the door, and jumped out, rolling to help shield the both of us from the impact. Taking Jett’s gun, I shot at the tire. Missed. Fuck. I should spend more time at the range with Jett. I shot again, and one tire blew, and the car careened. That was what I was talking about. I shot out another.
“Take that, assholes. Wow, I’ve still got it.” I looked at poor, frozen Grace, getting surprise and gratitude. “I wasn’t always a social worker. One day I should tell you about working with Wes back in the Army. Yeah, maybe it was dumb of me, but didn’t you once say about why not save someone you love if you’re capable?”
Pain coursed through me. I wasn’t in my twenties anymore–and slightly out of shape. But shit, it felt good to do that. Finally, a situation that I could handle.
Police cars surrounded us. “Hands up.”
I put the gun on the ground and my hands up, holding Grace. One brother leapt out of the car and started running. An officer ran after him and tackled him to the ground.
Panic came through my bond with Grace.
“You’re safe,” I assured her. Then I got it. “Oh, they might be like your mom. They’re also not in the system. Shit. But we couldn’t let them take you.”
Hopefully, they’d be betas or something, given her dad was just some regular dude.
“What the fuck was that? I’m guessing you’re Evan? Your sister is not pleased you ran off to be a hero,” an officer said.
“My sister thinks that I sat on my ass at a desk when I was in the Army,” I explained as the two of them were taken away.
