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“Shit,” I curse under my breath, my mind spinning at a hundred miles an hour. “Fuck, Darragh can you walk?”
Darragh’s a tough fucker, but his legs shake as he tries to stand. Easton and I stand on either side of him, holding him up between us as we stagger out of the warehouse. I hate to turn my back on an armed enemy, but I guess Rossi isn’t technically an enemy anymore, and getting Darragh out of here takes priority.
Thankfully, Louis has the car ready to go for the whole meeting. The second he sees us rushing out, he throws open the doors to the car. Easton and I shove Darragh inside, and Louis floors the gas.
“Heard the shots, what the hell happened?” Louis shouts as he breaks the speeding law.
“One of Rossi’s men wanted more than he was owed,” I seethe. “Rossi handled it, though. We got our truce.”
Louis gives me a grim nod in the rearview mirror before returning his focus to the road.
Even at his speed, the drive back feels like it stretches for years. The second the car stops outside the safe house, we’re moving. Louis and Easton grab Darragh, hauling him from the car as I run ahead to open the door and warn Kacie to ready her kit.
The scene I find as I rush through the front door is just as horrifying as the one in the car. My mind spins as I take in Kacie standing over a slumped body, anger in her eyes and what looks to be an empty syringe clutched in her fist.
I move so fast she jumps, startled by my presence.
“What the fuck happened?” I shout, grabbing her and hauling her against my chest, needing to feel for myself that she’s safe, alive, and well.
“I’m fine.” She cradles my face between her hands, soothing me when it should be me soothing her.
“Who the fuck is that?” I ask, stepping forward and guiding Kacie behind me protectively.
“Some asshole who broke in when you were out,” she says, sounding way too calm. “Yelled something about being sick of Rossi’s rules and going out on their own? He lunged at me, so I grabbed the needle and knocked him out.”
Pride fills me as I spin back to her, holding her tight and kissing her head. “My brave little doctor,” I murmur, and she laughs a little.
Suddenly, she pulls back with a gasp. Her eyes are wide as her hand goes to my arm. “You’re bleeding!” she cries.
Before I can answer, Easton and Louis burst into the room with a nearly unconscious Darragh hanging between them.
“Trust me, Darragh’s bleeding a whole lot worse!” Easton calls out, sounding out of breath.
I watch, fascinated, as Kacie’s expression transforms into the determined, professional mask of a doctor. “Kellan, lay out the table,” she orders, rushing to help the others steady Darragh.
I do as she says, then help the others haul a limp Darragh up onto the top of it. Kacie sets us to work, cutting off Darragh’s shirt as we grab her supplies and trash bags. Thank God she spent all that money on medical shit because there’s no way in hell our bare essentials in the first aid kit would be enough for the hole in Darragh’s shoulder. I’m no stranger to blood, but I can’t even look at it for too long without feeling sick.
There’s so much fucking blood.
A low groan yanks my attention away from my girl injecting anesthetic into Darragh. The man she’d knocked out with a similar syringe moans on the ground, moving slightly as he blinks heavy eyelids.
I storm towards him, dragging him up and out of the room. He’s barely conscious and puts up a pathetic little fight as I forcibly move him away from my injured friend and my girl.
I couldn’t do any more to help Darragh, but I sure as fuck could do something with this asshole.
Footsteps sound behind me before Easton joins me in the spare room and I throw the man to the ground. Easton closes the door behind us, the locksnickingas it secures us in. I roll up my sleeves, dried blood crusting the fabric.
“Louis stayed to help Kacie,” Easton tells me as the man she knocked out stirs back to full consciousness. “Figured I’d help you crack this one open.”
I give Easton a grim smile. He knows me well. I can’t count how many times we’ve worked together to get information out of someone like the man before us. But never in all my life have I craved the feeling of making someone pay like I do right now.
This man tried to hurt my girl. Tried to lay a hand on her.
And that’s fucking unacceptable.
“Ah shit,” are the first words out of the man’s mouth as he looks up at us, his eyes wide.
I don’t say anything back at first, letting my fist speak for me. Sharp and fast, my knuckles meet the guy’s nose, and it crunches under the strike. Satisfaction floods me as the guy spits blood.
