Nash turned back to Sarge.“I’m assumin’ you got a plan.”
“When don’t I?Blade’s gone.Anything comin’ back on Cassie’s gone.Called some favors in—got a few boys comin’ back with gasoline.”
Sarge glanced at his phone.“Should be here any minute.”His gaze flicked toward Ollie.“Leavin’ him to you.”
Ollie lay on the floor across the room, hands bound behind him, Crusher standing over him, weapon drawn.Blood had dried dark across his clothes from multiple gunshots, one leg twisted wrong where the four-wheeler had thrown him.
He wasn’t moving—but he wasn’t dead either.
Yet.
Nash dragged his focus back to Cassie, who was still trying to twist away from him, her hands weak against his chest.
“I don’t wanna leave her,” Nash ground out.“But yeah, Caldwell’s mine.”
Sarge dipped his chin.“You want Margie up here?I’ll help her handle Cas while you do what you gotta do.”
Sarge was pulling his phone out when Cassie—still bucking in Nash’s arms—suddenly went slack.
Her palms hit his chest in a weak slap.“Fuck—you—” she gasped, breath catching.She still tried to move, but there wasn’t much behind it.Another shove—faltering halfway before dropping against his chest.
“It’s a deal, Strawberry—” he muttered, pulling her in tight.“Soon as you’re better.”
Her lips moved again, something low and slurred—his name, maybe.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he murmured, brushing the damp hair back from her forehead, his hand lingering there before dropping to her chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath his palm.“I ain’t going nowhere.You rest now.I got you.”
Fifteen minutes later, trucks hauling fuel pulled up, the boys moving quick through the cabin—getting the wounded loaded up, swapping out ruined bikes, grabbing whatever they needed.Sarge barked orders over all of it, splitting them off in pairs and shoving gas cans into their hands.
Thirty minutes after that, the front door slammed open.
“Where the hell is she—”
Margie stopped dead when she saw Cassie.
Then she was moving, dropping to her knees in front of Nash.
“Hey—hey, Cassie-girl—look at me—”
Cassie barely reacted, her head lolling where it rested against Nash’s shoulder.
“She’s breathin’ good,” Nash said.“Got a nasty bump on her head, though—”
“I got her,” Margie murmured, pulling Cassie toward her.“I got her—you can let go.”
When Nash didn’t quite fully relinquish her—because he goddamn didn’t want to let her go—Sarge stepped forward.
“We ain’t got all day,” he said quietly.“Don’t know how deep this goes or who else might show.We’re ready to light this place up when you are.”
Nash only looked at his VP, expression hard.
Sarge gave him a knowing look before dipping his chin once.
There was a whole lot more buried under this mess, and Nash meant to dig every bit of it up.
Forcing his grip to loosen, he let Margie take Cassie’s full weight.“Careful—” he started, only to be shushed by the woman.
“Now you ain’t goin’ nowhere yet, Cassie-girl,” Margie was saying, cradling her close.“You hear me?Hell, we just got you back.”
