out, I presume, because her face is covered in blood.
I lean forward, picking up a pencil holder and chucking it at the wall. Pencils and pens fly and clatter to the ground in an eruption of writing utensils. I lean down, grabbing my gun from the ankle holster strapped around my leg. I cock it, loading a bullet into the chamber. “What the fuck are we waiting for? Let’s go.”
Rich steps forward. “I’ve already called Lynx. They’re on their way towards the Texas Charter. We have one of our PI’s trying to catch up with them. We’ll find them. Hugo, I think you and Easton should head that way. I’ve got a load of men strapping up and will be right behind you. Jackson, I think it might be best if you stick with me.”
The madness has reached my head, because I lift my arm and point the gun at Rich. “You’ll have to bury me under cement to keep me from going after Cara. I’m going with Easton.”
His nostrils flare as he stares me down. Anger pulls at his lips and I know he’s fighting between laying into me and standing down.
“Put the fucking gun down, Jackson.” Rich barks at me.
“I’m not fucking staying here.” I growl.
“You are if you don’t fucking listen to me! I’ll throw you in the fucking basement if you don’t put that God damned gun down right now!” He roars, slamming his fist into his desk. Everything shakes and rattles. With a deep breath, I lower the gun, placing it on my lap, my finger still wrapped around it tightly.
He takes a deep breath and stares at me. “I understand you’re stressed. We all are. Cara is and has always been family to all of us. We will find her. But don’t, for even a half of a second, think that you can point a fucking gun at me. I run this shit, and as long as I’m standing in this office, I will run this business. This is your last and final warning; don’t you ever point a gun at me again. Do I make myself clear?”
I swallow, anger abating if at least for a second. “Yes, sir.”
He nods. “Go with Easton and Hugo. If you get killed over this, I will stand on your grave and terrorize your ass. You will wish you were alive to escape me. But if you think with your fucking head, you can still save Cara. Get in the fucking truck and go save her.”
My nostrils flare, and I give him a nod. Turning around, I make my way to the door and open it. Looking over my shoulder, I say, “Thanks, sir.” I turn to Easton. “I’m going to go get my girl. You fucking coming?”
21
Cara
The stopping of the van jostles me awake. Radiating pain makes me bring my hand up to my nose, and I wince when the throbbing pain becomes unbearable as I touch it.
“Ughhh.” I gurgle, my voice sounding unlike my own with the damage to my nose.
Where am I?
What happened?
I try to get my bearings. As I open my eyes, I see what looks to be like the floor of a car. The floor of a car? I attempt to sit up, and my bones ache as I push up. The vehicle is unfamiliar. Looking out the window, the area is unfamiliar as well.
I bring my hand up to my nose again, wincing as I poke at the tender skin. Memories flash through my head.
Being ambushed at my home. Someone taking Wesley from me and coming back empty handed. Being punched in the face.
Fuck.
My nose is definitely broken.
Fear and panic seize me, making the breath leave my lungs. I sit up, ignoring the pounding in my head and the throbbing in my face. Reaching for the door handle, I find it locked.
“Shit.” I whisper.
I climb over to the front seat and try for the front, seeing that that’s locked as well. I hit the unlock button, but for some reason, it won’t unlock the door.
“What the fuck?” I cry, looking around for a magical button that will get me the hell out of here. “Somebody help me!” I scream, pounding on the window with my fists. We look to be at some deserted gas station, the windows all boarded up and the gas pumps all have an Out of Order bag covering the pump.
There’s no sign of life anywhere.
That doesn’t stop me from looking for a way out of here. I search