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“Grayson? That you? And Charlotte, too?”
“It’s me, Cole. I appreciate your checking before you blasted a hole in me with that anti-tank pistol.”
Cole apparently has no sense of humor, because he stares past us into the basement.
“Are there any other hostiles?”
“Negative,” Gray says. “You can stand down.”
“I never stand down.”
Cole ejects a magazine from his pistol and jams in a new one with precise movements and mechanical clicks. I’m glad he’s on our side.
I’m even more glad when we get back to the first floor and find no guards to bar our way. What we do find, however, makes me yelp in fright: half a dozen bodies lying near the staircase.
“These enemy assets attempted to stop me from breaching the basement door,” Cole says in a voice devoid of emotion.
“Jesus Christ, Cole. Remind me not to piss you off,” Gray says with an astonished whistle. “Ryker said you were Hell on Wheels. He did not exaggerate.”
“I’m just a sailor.”
I hide my chuckle. Yeah, right. Just a sailor. I feel sorry for anyone who gets in Cole’s way.
“Come on,” Cole says, leading the way. “Rendezvous point is this way.”
I lean over and whisper to Gray.
“Is he always like this?”
“Pretty much.”
We follow him to the main ballroom. Outside, the constant flashes of headlights and the sounds of ripping gravel indicate the party guests are fleeing in a hurry. I can’t blame them one bit. If I never come back to Wyatt’s again, it will be too soon.
When we reach the main ballroom, it’s largely deserted and a chaotic mess. The champagne glass tower sits in smashed ruins, while most of the food has been exploded by stray bullets. Jax and Griff huddle near the entrance, both of them holding guns in their hands.
“There he is,” Jax says as we approach. “You look like shit, Grayson.”
“You should see the other guy.”
“No, I mean the way you’re dressed,” Jax says, shaking his head in dismay. “What is that…do you have gel in your hair?”
“Look at all the bling,” Griff says with a chortle.
“Ha ha,” Gray replies, wearing something between a sneer and a smile. “By the way, my old friend, using the term loosely, is in the basement with a broken wrist. Might want to corral him.”
Grayson looks around the room while Jax addresses me.
“Are you all right, Charlotte?”
“I’m fine, thanks to Grayson and your team. But Gray probably needs to see a doctor.”
Gray turns back to us, his face crossed with a frown.
“Forget the doctor. Has anyone seen Wyatt?”
Jax and Griff exchange glances, then look over at Cole. All of them seem confused.
“Tell me that bastard didn’t get away,” Gray says with a groan.
