The back of my head hurt, but other than the slicing pain tearing through my skull, I didn’t believe I was injured, which was good considering I wasn’t all the way healed from the gunshot wound I’d endured from their fuckin’ club.
When I finally picked up my head, I scoured the small room and saw all three Reapers on the ground. Two weren’t moving and the other one had his hand resting against his stomach, his body twitching in pain.
Ryder was on his feet, barely, leaning against the wall, his head lolling from side to side as he attempted to remain upright. His hand disappeared beneath his dark shirt, reappearing with blood staining his fingertips.
Brick’s large body was slumped in the far corner, his head hanging down, appearing lifeless, blood seeping through his gray T-shirt as well as through his right pant leg, the sight making my vision blur over again.
I clutched the back of my head and raised my body from the floor until I was in a seated position. When I pulled my fingers away from my damp hair and shoved my hand in front of my face, I saw blood. I had no idea if I’d been shot or if at some point, I’d stumbled backward and hit my head on the way down. Full comprehension continued to elude me, but one thing was for sure… the threat in this room had been eliminated. Now all that was to be done was to survey the damage, the casualties.
Movement from my right caught my attention, but when I turned to look, I cursed, the swift effort wreaking havoc on my injury. In the middle of gathering my strength once again, a hand squeezed my shoulder.
“You okay?” Tag’s voice sounded rough and distorted. As he stood to his full height, he shifted his weight to his right side. My eyes trailed over the length of him, noticing his jeans were torn at his left shin, blood puddling on the floor by his foot.
“I think so,” I finally answered, my wits coming back quicker than before. I struggled to get to my feet, but succeeded only when Tag helped me, being sure not to put any pressure on his left leg.
He looked down, then back up at me. “My fuckin’ shin is killin’ me, but I’m better than those shitheads.” He jerked his chin toward the fallen Reapers.
“One of ’em is still alive,” Ryder suddenly mumbled, pressing his hand over the apparent wound right below his left rib cage. “Tag.” Our prospect hobbled closer to Ryder. “You need to do it.” The Reaper who still breathed the same air as us was the same one who killed Erin. Not a flicker of reservation passed over Tag’s features before he carefully bent down and snatched up one of the fallen guns. He hobbled toward the groaning fucker, pointed the gun at the guy’s chest, and pulled the trigger. The resounding boom made my heart skip in surprise even though I knew he was gonna do it. I believed the Reaper to be dead, but that didn’t matter to Tag because he shot him once more, right between his evil fuckin’ eyes. Now, there was no doubt the man had perished, hopefully to hell where he belonged.
For him to walk up to him and end him without an ounce of reservation screamed I didn’t know the guy as well as I thought. Had he killed before? Or was the revenge for Erin, a girl he barely knew, the only thing that prompted his action?
Since Ryder was conscious and Tag wasn’t in any serious danger, I made my way toward Brick. With each step, I prayed he wasn’t dead, but he hadn’t moved at all in the past couple minutes. I willed his chest to rise and fall but I didn’t see any movement. Slowly falling to my knees, I pressed two fingers over his pulse point. Nothing. I moved them slightly to the left and still nothing.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I shouted, lifting his shirt to assess the damage. His blood stain was so far spread I couldn’t tell exactly where the bullet or bullets pierced his skin. Tag was next to me seconds later, helping to lift Brick’s shirt. Our enforcer’s entire torso was painted red.
“I can’t tell where he’s hit,” Tag said, feeling around with me. When the prospect moved to get closer, bumping Brick’s leg in the process, a sudden and guttural moan fell from the big guy’s mouth.
“Watch the leg.” Brick’s words were choppy, but we heard him loud and clear.
“You scared me, man,” I uttered, continuing to check him over. “Do you know where you got hit?”
“My chest is burning, but I can’t tell you exactly where. But I do know one thing.” I impatiently waited for him to continue. “If you fuckers don’t stop tryin’ to cop a feel, we’re gonna have a problem.” A cough erupted, shaking his body and making him groan louder. “Fuck, that hurts.” His brief snippet of laughter died on his lips when he grimaced in pain.
We withdrew our hands from beneath his shirt and gripped him underneath his arms. “Come on, big man. We gotta get you to your feet.” Brick’s head moved back in frustration and thudded against the drywall. Bracing for his weight, Tag and I struggled to lift him up. Goddamn, he was a heavy fucker. I was in great shape as Tag appeared to be as well, and still, we had a hard time. God love any woman who fell underneath him. I had no idea where that thought came from, but it amused me, and I needed the sentiment right now to deal with this shit.
When Brick was finally upright, I left Tag next to him to ensure he remained vertical. Grabbing an oversized bag from the closet, I gathered the guns, theirs, and ours, as well as any shell casings I could find, packed everything inside, and slung the bag over my shoulder as I approached Ryder.
“We gotta go.” I heard the faint sound of sirens in the background, and if we didn’t get out of here in the next two minutes, we were gonna be locked up for years.
He pushed off the wall and moaned with each step, but he was able to walk with minimal assistance from me. Tag helped to support Brick, and the four of us made it downstairs and out the back door as the sirens crept closer. Cutting through several yards, we made it back to the vehicle and tucked ourselves inside without any attention. Tucked might’ve been another word for Brick and Ryder collapsing into the back seat. Yeah, that was more accurate.
Three cop cars whizzed past us, and while I’d love to say we were in the clear, too much of our own blood was left back at the scene. I’d never been arrested, so my DNA wouldn’t be in the system, but I couldn’t speak for the other three. For now, however, we had other shit to worry about, mainly getting us all patched up and better because we still didn’t know what the Reapers meant when they said it would be easier for them to do it with us not around.
I dialed Chelsea’s number, but the only thing I heard when the call connected was static, then the line went dead. I tried once more, but my battery conked out and I didn’t have time to search for a charger with the four of us bleeding and in dire need of medical attention.
“Tag, can you call Lincoln and ask him to have his mom come to the clubhouse immediately? Then have him tell Marek to call everyone in.”
“On it.” He pulled a face when he moved his leg, but he whipped out his phone and called just like I’d asked.
Now, I just had to make sure we made it back in one piece, or with as many pieces of us that were left.
34
I barely missed ramming into the gate, slamming on the brakes before the large shield of metal crushed the front of the vehicle. Honking the horn like a crazy person because I couldn’t readily locate the remote, I impatiently waited for the arms to swing open. My head throbbed more than before, and if I didn’t get into the lot in the next ten seconds, I felt a wave of freak-out coming on.