West’s mouth opens in protest, but Beck has had enough of our shit. “West,” he snarls. “Get in the fucking car.”
Huffing out a breath, West glances at me with what looks like an apology in his eyes, but I’m not sure why, before he climbs into the passenger seat. He hasn’t even got the door closed before Mason is gunning it out of the lot and down the road, out of sight.
When they’ve disappeared, I look to Hawk, seeing the despair in his eyes. Despite the lack of hope I see there, I ask, “Do you think he’s going to make it?”
He wraps his arms around me, and I bury my head in his top, stealing some of his strength. I don’t miss the fact he doesn’t answer my question, and the sick feeling in my stomach solidifies.
When he pulls back, I run my eyes over him. For the first time since everything went down, I actually take him in. He’s got a split lip that looks like it’s scabbed over. Other than red marks around his wrists, he looks relatively unharmed. He’s definitely in better condition than West.
“Are you okay?” I ask quietly, scanning him over for any injuries I may have missed.
“I’ll be fine. Let’s just get to the hospital.”
“I’ve booked a cab,” Cam pipes up helpfully. “It’ll be here in fifteen.”
I look over my shoulder to the warehouse behind us. “What, uh, are we going to do about the mess in there?”
Hawk grimaces. “I’m not sure. Maybe Beck can see if Cain knows anyone who could sort it out?”
“Maybe.”
It’s not the best of plans, but I’m too concerned about Barton to try and figure out a better solution.
The three of us make our way toward the main road to wait for the taxi. Hawk all but collapses onto the sidewalk, placing his elbows on his knees, and sighing heavily as he goes to bury his face in his hands before realizing they’re covered in blood.
Pausing, he stops and stares at the blood on his hands, like he can’t recall how it got there, before he frowns and crosses his arms instead, hanging his head.
I move to join him, suddenly feeling exhausted, but as I bend down, I notice the absence of my gun from the back of my pants. I quickly straighten and pat myself down.
“What’s wrong?” Cam asks, watching me closely.
“My gun, I don’t have it.”
“Does it matter? You probably can’t take it to the hospital anyway,” Hawk mumbles, looking up at me.
“My fingerprints are on it. I don’t want to leave it behind.”
I start back toward the warehouse, but Cam’s arm snaps out, his fingers wrapping around my upper arm. “I’ll go get it.”
I give him a small smile. “It’s okay, I’ll get it. I can’t just sit here and wait anyway.”
His lips flatten, but he lets go of me, and I don’t waste any time jogging back to the warehouse, not wanting to hold us up if the cab arrives while I’m gone.
Pulling open the side door, I scan the floor, my gaze bouncing over the dead bodies as I search for my gun. Spotting it lying on the ground, I swallow around the sudden lump in my throat as my eyes bounce to the puddle of blood beside it. I can’t think about what might happen to Barton right now. One thing at a time. Retrieve the gun. Get in the cab. Go to the hospital. Then I can think about him.
My footfalls reverberate around the large space as I move to retrieve my gun, but as I go to bend down, the sound of stiff boots on the concrete behind me has me spinning around, crouching and raising my fists in preparation for whatever shitstain tried to sneak up on me.
My eyes widen as I come face to face with Bowen, pointing his gun in my motherfucking face, like I haven’t already had the day from hell.
“Ah-ah.” He waves his gun, indicating for me to step away from mine, which is uselessly lying on the floor at my feet. Keeping my eyes trained on him, I slowly sidestep until the gun is out of my reach, holding my hands out to my sides, making it clear I don’t have any other weapons within reach.
I watch him closely, on alert for any sudden movements, as I try to work out where the fuck he came from. Was he here this whole time? Hiding out? Why?
“You couldn’t have made this easier for me, D,” he purrs, his beady eyes eating me up. The way they flare in excitement at having me trapped, sickens me, and I struggle to regulate my breathing as my pulse spikes and my palms begin to sweat. “I thought I’d have to chase you down, but here you are.” His lips curl up in a cold smirk that sends a shiver down my spine. “It’s almost like you missed me…did you miss me, D?”
I can hardly focus on his words as images flash before my eyes. One second I’m standing opposite him in the warehouse, and in the next, I’m chained to the wall in his torture room back at the compound.
In my distraction, he manages to get closer to me, and when I blink back to the present and find him towering over me, I scurry backward on shaky legs, desperate to maintain some distance between us while I talk myself out of my freak out. Now is not the fucking time to be having traumatic flashbacks!
I take a second to give myself a mental reprimand. I have been doing well since I opened up to the guys. Sure, there have been the odd moments when I’ve struggled or woken up from a nightmare, but talking to the guys and opening up to them has really helped me adjust. Knowing that we have been systematically working on bringing down our parents and the company has been a huge help too. I can’t let this sick fuck destroy all that progress.
Thoughts of Hawk, and how fucking grief stricken he’s going to be if he loses his dad, never mind if I let this asshole destroy me, along with what losing me might do to the guys, flitter across my mind. Would West and Beck’s relationship survive if something happened to me? I know it wouldn’t take much for Cam to break. He might appear like he’s back to his normal self, but his wounds are still healing. One strong pull on the stitches and he would fall apart. And Mason…he’s only started to poke his head out of his shell and feel confident enough to be himself. I don’t want him to go back to the cold, impassive person he was when I first met him.
Those thoughts bolster me and I straighten my spine, glowering at Bowen as I refuse to let him intimidate me. My little act of defiance has one side of his mouth lifting, excitement for the chase flaring in his eyes.