Hadley gives me a stern look. “He helped me.” Turning back to the guard, she calls out, “Marcus, what are you doing here?”
“I heard gunshots. As soon as I realized what was going on, I figured it was your guys. I wanted to help, but I couldn’t get into the building.”
I tense as the guard approaches, and Hadley looks at me over her shoulder, doing the same with Hawk, pinning us both with a behave yourselves look, before her eyes move to Beck. “He’s Meena’s brother.”
I don’t know what that means, and neither does Hawk, if his furrowed brow means anything, but Beck obviously does, as his shoulders relax, even though his brows pull together in confusion. His gaze runs assessingly over the guard before he glances at Hadley. She gives a tight nod of her head, and he returns his focus to the guard once again. “If you want to help, there’s a boy inside, in the far right corner of the building.”
“I’ll get him.” There’s a promise in his tone that has me giving him another onceover, but I still don’t trust him.
Beck must be hesitant too as he scrutinizes him for a second before responding, “The code is four-two-three-five-three-nine. Take him to the back entrance. I’ll tell Cain to look out for you.”
The guy nods, and with a final glance and a small smile directed at Hadley, he takes off into the building behind us.
The rest of us continue forward. The previously silent yard is now ripe with life. The sound of children crying permeates the air, along with smoke from burning buildings. The place is frenzied, and as we approach the back entrance to the compound, children are running or being carried through the open gate.
We’re most of the way across the yard when Hadley’s leg gives out, and she falls to the ground, hissing in pain. Hawk is beside her in a flash, hauling her into his arms.
“Shit, are you okay?” I brush my fingers over the reddened skin on her knees, swiping away the dust and grit, relieved to find no fresh cuts from where her knees collided with the hard asphalt. Running my eyes over her as I inspect for any other damage, I notice the deep cut on her thigh has opened up. Blood trickles from the wound, and when I look back at her face, she looks paler than she did before. Honestly, she looks completely fucking wrecked.
“I’m fine.” She waves me away, but there’s a fine tremor in her hands which she tries to hide. “Just not used to such strenuous exercise.” With a small, tired smile, she tries to laugh it off, but none of us find it funny. Hawk’s arms tighten around her and his face turns thunderous. My own jaw clenches, and I have to look away for a second so she doesn’t see just how much her words fucking infuriate me.
“Hawk,” she grumbles, pushing against his chest, “I can walk.”
He glowers, but none of the heat is directed at Hadley. “I don’t give a shit if you think you can somersault the rest of the way. You’re fucking exhausted.” Huffing out a breath, he clenches his teeth and pleads with her with his eyes. “Just let me help you, okay?”
The two of them share a twin moment, where the rest of the world doesn’t exist, before Hadley relents and gives a quick nod of her head, relaxing into his embrace.
We set off again, quickly closing the distance to the back gate. Spotting us heading in his direction, Cain strides toward us.
“Go on, I’ll catch up in a sec.” Beck focuses on Hadley, before sparing the rest of us a glance. As we pass by, Cain nods his head at us, a gesture I return. Tonight wouldn’t have been possible without him.
Leaving the chaos of the compound behind, we make it back to the car, and Hawk slides Hadley into the back seat. I climb in beside her, and Mason slips in on her other side as Hawk gets in behind the wheel.
“You go,” Wilder insists, watching Hadley as she slumps against Mason, barely able to keep her eyes open. “I’ll wait for Beck.”
Hawk nods, starting the engine, while West slides into the front passenger seat. Not having to be told twice, he guns it down the lane, onto the main road, and away from the burning buildings behind us.
Chapter 6
The world comes back to me slowly as I groggily wake from the land of the dead. Or maybe I’m actually dead. Did Lawrence and Bowen finally get the better of me? I’m struggling to think through the thick fog of sleep, to remember what happened or where I am, and I can’t for the life of me manage to peel my eyes open. They may as well be glued shut.
I give up on trying to open my eyes, and focus instead on what I can feel and hear. The room is silent, and if it wasn’t for the smoothness of the soft sheets wrapped around me, I’d believe I was still in my dingy cell back in the compound.
Someone squeezes my hand, and on instinct, I squeeze back.
“Hadley? You awake?”
Hawk’s soft murmur and the worried tone in his voice gives me the energy to crack open an eyelid, and I groan as light floods in. Lifting my hand to block it, something tugs the skin and, looking down, there’s a bandage stuck to the back of my hand, with a tube coming out of it that’s attached to a bag of fluids.
“The doctors said you were extremely dehydrated when we brought you in,” Hawk explains.
“Where am I?” My throat is so parched the words are barely more than a croak, and my lips are dry when I run my tongue along them.
Letting go of my hand, Hawk stands and fills a cup on my bedside table with water, bringing it to my lips. I down it in two gulps, feeling the cold liquid slosh around in my otherwise empty stomach.
“You’re at a private hospital. You passed out on the way home and we didn’t know what else to do.” He glances away, and I notice the muscle in his jaw tick. “Given the cuts all over you…” Gritting his teeth, anger overwhelms him. Unable to stand still, he paces back and forth across the end of my bed in the small private room I’m in.
Resting my head against the pillow, I sit and watch as he stomps to one side of the room, then turns around and strides toward the opposite wall. His eyes are molten fury, his face like thunder. There’s nothing I can say or do that would calm the rage consuming him right now. I know, because, despite the sheer exhaustion threatening to pull me under, I feel it too. That boiling ball of rage and fury, of wrath and malice that grows in my stomach, demanding retribution. Lawrence might be dead, but I need everyone connected with that cesspit of a compound to be punished. The guards, Bowen, our parents. I won’t be able to move on with my life until they’ve all suffered.
Hawk stops his pacing, spinning to face me from where he stands at the end of the bed. His angry eyes fall on mine, but behind them, I see the pain he’s masking; the vulnerability that he doesn’t know how to process.
“Hawk—”
He shakes his head, unwilling to hear my platitudes. His fists clench tightly around the footboard, turning his knuckles white and threatening to crack the flimsy plastic.