The camp leader was standing on the porch of the main lodge when Rylan walked up. “Have you made any contact?” Rylan asked his friend.
Connor shook his head. “Not yet.” He frowned as he took in Rylan’s appearance. “Jesus. You look two inches from death’s doorstep. Go get some shut-eye, man. I’ll let you know as soon as anything comes through.”
“No. Let’s call again,” Rylan insisted, refusing to believe he’d come all this way to get nothing. He slapped the sidearm at his waist to signal he was ready.
Connor placed his hand on Rylan’s shoulder and pushed gently. “You couldn’t rescue a mouse in your condition. Get some sleep.”
Rylan hated that the man was right, but he gave a weary nod. He was so tired, a child could do him in.
As he turned to go, he saw Sloan approaching.
“Thank you for taking us in.” The bearded man held out his hand. And Connor, that bastard, shook it.
Rylan seethed at the unknowing betrayal. Con shouldn’t be shaking this shithead’s hand. Con had rescued his woman. He hadn’t left Hudson in the council’s clutches. If Connor knew how faithless and gutless Sloan was, he’d kick the man to the curb.
“We’re going to help you get Reese out,” Connor said. “But for now, you need to get some rest too. In the condition you’re in, neither of you are any good to her.”
Sloan nodded. “Point me in the direction of the nearest horizontal surface. I’m sure I could sleep anywhere.”
“All the cabins are filling up fast,” Connor admitted.
Shit. Rylan began to inch away from the porch, but his leader held up a hand.
“Ry, why doesn’t Sloan crash in your—”
Oh no. He was not letting Sloan into his cabin. No way in fucking hell. He opened his mouth to say just that when Hudson appeared at the door.
“I’ve got something,” she announced.
It was hard not to run her over on the way into the lodge. Sloan charged forward too, and Rylan attempted to shove him, but the man was having none of it. They reached the meeting room at the same time and then stood shoulder to shoulder while Hudson bent over the table. She tapped on a tiny satellite phone.
“Dom? Are you still there?”
Rylan couldn’t help but glance at Sloan, whose eyes flared with hope.
“Still here, sis. I’ve only got a couple more minutes before I have to go, but here’s what I know—they brought the outlaw leader here to the Enforcer base. She’s being held in an interrogation room in the main building, underground. It’s about five feet of reinforced concrete and there’s only one entrance, guarded by a rotation of handpicked Enforcers. Most of them are related to council members—Ferris assigned them because they’re considered highly loyal.”
“Any form of communication?” Hudson asked.
“Negative. Hard to maintain a signal because of the concrete. Even the radios don’t work past the second step. I tried it out earlier today.”
“How is she, Dom?”
“She’s alive,” he said flatly.
Rylan closed his eyes. Alive meant a hundred different things. Was she beaten? How many bones had they broken? Had they taken turns raping her?
Beside him, Sloan remained utterly silent. As if he didn’t give a shit about what had happened. The bastard had raced back to Foxworth, saved the people, and now his task was complete. Why was he even with them? He didn’t care about Reese. Didn’t care about her at all.
Rylan fisted his hands at his sides, longing to drive one of them into Sloan’s impassive face.
“It sounds like our only opportunity is if they move her,” Connor spoke up.
“Yes.” Dominik paused for so long Rylan wondered if the connection had dropped. “They’re going to execute her, old-city style, at the base of the council building as a warning to all outlaws.”
Hudson covered her mouth to suppress her gasp of dismay. Rylan felt his already weak legs turn to water. He staggered backward until his shoulders found the wall. The asshole Sloan didn’t move. It was like he’d turned into a piece of stone.
“When?” Connor asked grimly.
“It’ll take twenty-four hours to have the execution order signed. As soon as it is, she’ll be brought out and charged for crimes against the Colonies. The sentence will take place at nightfall.”
Nope. Rylan refused to accept this. Reese wasn’t going to die.
He pushed forward, slapped his hands on the table, and snarled into the phone. “We’re coming after her, Dominik. Better say your prayers.”
Dominik let out a humorless laugh. “Prayers aren’t gonna save anyone.”
“We need more details,” Hudson begged. “A timetable, location, any weak points. Anything.”
“I’ll get you what I can, when I can, but you’re just gonna have to sit tight until then.”
He cut the connection before they could ask another question.