“Gav?” Marcus called, hoping to hear him call back from the forest.
Reacting to the sound of his daddy’s name, Puppy started squirming, fighting his hardest against Marcus’s grasp. The damn dog slipped from his arms and landed on the ground about as gracefully as a drunk ballerina.
Puppy looked up at Marcus, barked, then looked back to the area he had just come from.
“Daddy? Where’s Daddy?” Marcus asked, fully aware that he sounded like the biggest pussy as he spoke to his dog. He could feel the guys watching him from the periphery.
Puppy glanced back at Marcus and gave another bark.
Then suddenly, Puppy pivoted and sprinted back toward the trees.
“I think he wants us to follow him,” Ace shouted, turning away from his bike and dashing after the four-legged creature.
“I think you’re right,” Marcus said, grabbing his gun from the back of his jeans, then running after them.
It’s not every day one sees a pack of bearded bikers running through the woods in the middle of the night. Most bikers stay away from jogging or running, preferring the steady roar of their hog between their legs.
But when it comes to the safety of one of their own, bikers will do whatever it takes to get the job done. Even ifthat means charging through the woods in the dead of night, searching for a serial killer holding one of their own captive.
Chests heaving and lungs burning, Marcus ignored the pain and focused on the four-legged furball leading them through the darkness.
Finally, the mutt stopped in front of an old hunting cabin. Marcus would have thought it was abandoned—if not for the light shining through the gaps around the crooked front door and the hinges that no longer provided any support.
Puppy plopped his ass down just outside the door and began to whine. He glanced up at Marcus as if to make sure he was still beside him.
Low, muffled voices could be heard from within.
Was this where he had taken Gavin?
Stepping closer toward the door, Marcus peeked between the spaces to get a better look.
Marcus’s jaw tightened when he spotted a slimy-looking man huddled over Gavin, caressing his face before leaning down and giving him a kiss.
Oh, fuck no!
Marcus burst through the door, rage consuming every ounce of his soul. Before he knew it, he was standing next to the Valentine Killer, grabbing him by the throat and tossing him across the room.
The man’s body flew like gravity did not exist in this part of the world.
Marcus stomped over to the man, grabbed hold of his shirt, and then began beating the man’s face.
Blood burst from the killer’s nose, as his left eye swelled and began turning a dark shade of purple. The sounds coming from the broken, mangled mess barely sounded human.
It wasn’t until Marcus felt someone grab him by his arm that sounds and senses returned to his body.
He could hear yelling coming from behind him. He wasn’t sure who it was, but he knew they had interrupted his murderous beating of the monster before him.
The sniveling sack of flesh before him was a dead man. He wasn’t going to let a predator such as this walk out of the cabin alive.
“Marcus!”
This time, the owner’s voice did cut through the fog in his brain.
Gavin.
His one and only.
Still alive and able to call his name.
