"Where the fuck are you guys?" Kylian barks through the comms. "We need more cover."
"Almost. There." Colter huffs like he's in the middle of punching someone.
Therat-tat-tatof gunfire blasts off to my right, and I immediately get low, trying to shield Ridge's head the best I can. Kylian returns fire with a wild “whoop” that could slide right into the sound effects for a cowboy flick.
Normally that would make me grin. But the need to get Ridge out of here presses down like a weight.
I can't believe how sideways this mission has gone. Our need to find our mate completely overrode our caution. We should have done more extensive questioning of that Noth. We should have run drones over this location first. There are so many things we should have done…
But it's too late.
I check Ridge's pulse.
It's weak.
"Hurry. The. Fuck. Up," I grit out into my earpiece.
Two seconds later, thudding steps run toward us.
"Here," Colter says, his skull mask red with blood splatter.
"Let's move," Kylian states.
He takes the lead, and Colter covers our rear as we leave the office space and head out into the wider warehouse.
Fires burn around us from the remnants of old grenades, and the scent of blood is so strong I can taste it, which only ramps up the anxiety twisting me up about Ridge's injuries. With every step I take, I fear I'm jostling his wound and making it worse.
A pair of Noth soldiers steps out from behind some heavy equipment, and one pitches his arm forward—a motion I know well. One that makes me internally cringe even as I dive to the right for cover, dragging Ridge with me so we can huddle behind a warped piece of machinery that's been shot to hell.
BAM.
The grenade blasts off with a force that makes my skin ripple, with a heat that singes my eyebrows. My ears ring, and I have no sense of direction for a second. Not until I see Kylian and Colter bent low, moving and shooting in tandem.
I turn to check on Ridge, trusting them to take care of the threat.
He doesn't look good. He's pale to the point that he nearly looks blue.
We’re running out of time.
"All clear," Kylian calls through the comms. "Think that was the last of them."
"Think or know?" I snipe.
"Checking with thermals," Colter replies. A minute later, he confirms Kylian's assessment. "It's just us."
"Finally." I rip at Ridge's shirt and vest, needing to see the wound.
Needing to know what this mistake cost us.
When I have his torso exposed and can see the wound that rips through him just above his hipbone, right beneath the vest, I get my answer.
And it's not good.
9
BRYLEE
Smash.
