The guy fell to the ground, gasping for air, and I fell on top of his back. I ground his face into the dirt and leaves until he quit fighting, and I knew that he was dead.
Owen had turned on the final man, pulled the guy's gun from his holster, and shot him in the chest three times with it, dropping him.
That left the leader, who had finally quit staggering around like a drunk. He gaped at Owen and me and backed up, as if to turn and run. I grabbed the second man's gun from the ground, and a couple of bullets solved that problem.
I got to my feet and scanned the forest, in case there were any more of Grimes's men lurking around who might come running at the cracks of gunfire. But a minute passed, then another one, with no signs or sounds of anyone heading our way. Those three must have been all that were in the area. So I shuffled over to Owen, who had his hands on his knees, trying to get his breath back.
"Are you okay?"
He wiped a bit of blood off his face, winced, and straightened up. "Yeah. Although now I think I know how you felt getting tossed around in the river yesterday."
I grinned at his black humor, but I still kept looking and listening at the woods around us. Just because no one had immediately appeared didn't mean that they weren't headed in our direction.
"c'mon," I said. "I don't know about you, but I'm ready to get off this damn mountain."
"I couldn't agree more," Owen quipped.
Chapter Twenty-six
We packed up our things and headed out. Owen insisted on carrying his backpack and all of the supplies that he'd brought. He offered to carry me too, but I refused. I might be injured, but we'd make better time with both of us on our feet. So instead, he found a tall, sturdy branch that I could use as a walking stick to help me hobble along faster.
To my surprise, we made it back down to the parking lot at the foot of Bone Mountain without any problems.
We hunkered down in the trees and watched Roslyn's car for several minutes, but no one was waiting to ambush us. Still, I made Owen check under the hood to see if one
of Grimes's men had planted a bomb there, just in case.
But the car was clean, and thirty minutes later, Owen had stopped the vehicle outside cooper's house.
Quite a few cars were clustered together in the driveway now, facing out and forming a solid metal barricade in front of the house. I recognized Finn's Aston Martin, Bria's sedan, and Phillip's Audi. The battered gray pickup truck had to belong to Warren, given the rifle in the gun rack attached to the back window.
Owen and I got out of the car and shuffled up to the house. At this point, he was dragging his backpack along the ground with one hand, while I had both of my hands wrapped around my walking stick, despite the splinters digging into my palms. Neither one of us was in the best shape of our lives, but we'd made it back alive.
A few soft murmurs of conversation sounded as we headed around the side of the house and stepped into the backyard. The others were sitting around the table outside on the patio, almost as if they were waiting for us to show up. Finn in a perfect suit and tie, Phillip wearing the same thing, the two of them looking as cool as icebox pies, despite the sweltering afternoon heat.
Bria in her usual jeans and button-up shirt, her badge and her gun both clipped to her black leather belt. Eva wearing shorts and a tank top. Roslyn in an elegant sleeveless sundress.
They were all leaning in toward the table and talking quietly, with Finn leading the conversation, judging by the wild way that he was gesturing. He was the first to spot Owen and me, and he stopped in mid-sentence to stare at us.
I grinned. "Honey, we're home."
The others scrambled to their feet. Eva raced over and gave Owen a long, tight hug, while Phillip clapped him on the back and almost sent him and Eva tumbling over.
Bria came over and hugged me, along with Roslyn, and then the two of them stepped to the side so Finn could get in on the action.
He stopped in front of me, crossed his arms over his chest, and gave me a critical once-over, his green eyes as sharp and bright as emeralds in his handsome face. "You look like hell," he finally said.
My grin widened. "You should see the other guys."
Finn sighed and opened his arms. "come on, come on, you know you want to hug me and get blood, mud, dirt, and who knows what else all over my brand-new suit."
"Why, I thought you'd never ask," I drawled.
I stepped into his arms, and Finn carefully hugged me, mindful of my injuries.
After a moment, he pulled back and sniffed in that haughty, superior way of his. "I told you to wait for me. You wouldn't be beat up nearly as badly if you'd done that." His tone was rough and grumbly, but I could still hear the worry in his voice.
"I know," I said, patting his shoulder and trying to soothe his ego and his concern. "Next time, I'll definitely wait for you."